They traveled for hours—or so it seemed—though they never managed to exit the forest. James suspected they were going in circles, his doom in the center. Just when he would think they’d made progress, he would spy the glittering palace rooftop. A rooftop of the fortress was famous for, the shingles consisted only of slaves tears. No matter what he tried, he could not alter his path.
Fail. The word the mother sorceress had used. Go ahead. Try. Fail. The b***h had used her magic on him as promised, James' realized. But what spell had she used? Unless he figured it out, he could not fight its power. Even as the question and answer formed in his mind, a sharp lance of pain jetted through him. He gnashed his teeth.
At least the guards never caught his trail. Even when the magical shield aroun
