Chapter 11
“Hartwell, come on.”
“No, Bridget. You’ve done enough magic for the day. You need to rest.”
Bridget pouted. “Fine. What about you?”
“I’ll be meeting with Connor.”
Bridget’s expression turned ugly. “What’s so great about him?”
“I like him. No! I love him.”
Bridget’s expression became even more hideous.
Then, all of a sudden, the scenery changed. Hartwell was standing somewhere in the forest, so close to Connor, but out of nowhere, a bunch of men dashed out from every direction, with one holding a familiar athame. The man rushed toward Connor from behind.
Hartwell recognized the athame. It belonged to Bridget, his witch. He ran toward Connor and got there just in time. Then he felt the athame piercing him. Hartwell could sense powerful, dark magic within the blade. He slo
