15
The winding road hugging the edge of the tropical forest posed more mysteries than threats to Orla. There was a sense of familiarity hovering in the air. She didn’t need much light to see the path as she followed her instincts, ingrained in her since childhood. The wind whispered among the trees as if someone was chanting tunes from the days she had lived with magic. Insects silenced when she walked past, showing respect to her and what she was doing. Somewhere in the depths of the dark forest, she heard the hissing sound of a snake—the kind of snake that her branch of sorcery used in sacrificial ceremonies. Orla remembered vividly the struggle and the desperate hisses of the animal before the blood was drained from its body. She didn’t care for the ritual, but at the time, she was a k
