Mage's End Game **PRE-ORDER**

The biting wind tried to find a way through Sera’s woollen cloak, as she arched her back to relieve tired muscles. She never thought that being branded an outlaw would result in her fantasising about baths. Just because they were riding from one safe place to another in search of answers, didn’t mean she abandoned all thought of cleanliness. A sigh frosted on the air as she remembered the copper tub in the Fae palace.
She cast a sideways glance at Hugh and her mind tumbled into much warmer memories of baths.
With each step her horse took Sera’s determination grew stronger, somewhat fuelled by her desire for the comforts of her little home. Lord Rowan would fail with his plan to seize control of the throne. After she had defeated him, she would carve a place for herself in the world. Until then…oh, how she wanted a bath.
Her breaths left puffs of fog in the frigid air, but there was no time to stop. Elliot Brynn, her insolent yet charming footman, led the way towards the Crow’s Nest, a secluded estate belonging to his cousins.
“Nearly there,” Elliot called back, his voice carrying over the gusting wind.
The path they followed through the trees grew darker as the old oak and beech clustered closer together. Even stripped bare of their leaves, their skeletal branches made arms that enclosed them. Up ahead, a pair of wrought-iron gates appeared. The metal was overgrown with ivy. A crow perched on one pillar and called out at their approach before taking flight.
“You better tell Fiona to make sure the coffee is hot!” Elliot yelled to the bird.
Their horses perked up, as though sensing they would soon be tucked up in a stable with a warm feed in their bellies. As the group rounded a corner, the trees pulled back to reveal a two-storey house built of a pale gre stone.
Ancient trees surrounded the Crow’s Nest, their gnarled branches reaching up to the heavens like grasping hands. The old manor house stood proud amidst the winter landscape, as if daring the frigid air to even attempt to penetrate its walls. The slate roof glistened with a dusting of snow, while tall chimneys puffed smoke into the grey sky.
As they approached the house, laughter rang through the air. Children bundled in thick coats dashed across the frozen ground, their cheeks rosy with joy. The three remarkable women who called the Crow’s Nest home had rescued these children. The Crows were descendants of Morag, a long ago mage. Her daughters were born with the ability to transform into crows and when they combined their magic, they were the equal of any mage.
Erin emerged from the manor house, bundled up in a dark purple woollen shawl. A wide smile on her face as she hurried to Sera’s side.
“Lady Winyard! Come inside. There is more snow on the horizon.” Erin gestured for two of the older boys to approach. “The lads will take your horses to the stables. Warin is out there and will take the saddles off for them.”
As they dismounted, each boy took hold of two horses and led them around the side of the house.
Then Erin turned to her cousin. “The coffee is hotter than you can handle, Elliot.”
The lanky footman chuckled as he embraced his shorter cousin.
Kitty and Hugh stood on either side of Sera and she laced her gloved fingers with Hugh’s.
“Let’s do the niceties inside. I’m freezing my buttocks out here,” Kitty said and pushed them all towards the front door.
Inside, they walked past the dim parlour and followed Erin into the kitchen—the heart of the home. The fire burned bright and enchanted lights cast a golden glow over the long oak table. Two long benches were positioned on either side and Fiona carried a pot from the stove. Anna stirred another pot that wafted a meaty aroma that made Sera’s stomach rumble.
“Lady Winyard,” she murmured. Then she glanced at her cousin. “Elliot. Don’t bother sitting, earn your keep and fetch cups and plates for our guests.”
A frown flashed across Elliot’s face, then the footman heaved a dramatic sigh and walked to a cupboard.
Sera peeled off her outer layers and tossed them over a ladder-backed chair. Then she sat on the worn bench that had supported dozens of bottoms over its long life.
The kitchen was a warm embrace after the biting cold outside. The roaring fire at one end cast flickering shadows across the white-washed plaster. Sera wondered at the countless stories and secrets hidden within the timeworn walls.
She drew in a deep breath and savoured the aromas of stew, coffee, and freshly baked bread. “Can we stay for a few days while we figure out what to do next?” she asked Erin, as Fiona poured coffee and passed around the steaming mugs.
“Of course you can. You and your friends are always welcome here,” Fiona said. “Anna and I will feed the children upstairs, so you can have some privacy.”
The two older crows arranged a pot and stack of bowls on a tray, and piled another with bread and a pitcher of lemonade.
Warin, the gargoyle head of the Londinium clan, stomped through the back door. He nodded to them in greeting, then took a seat opposite Hugh.
Conversation flowed as freely as the rich gravy that accompanied their stew. Sera listened intently, her mind racing with thoughts on how best to bring down the old mage who thought her but a pawn in his scheme.
“Lord Rowan has men scouring the countryside for you. Perhaps you should consider a new life in the Americas?” Worry etched itself across Erin’s forehead.
“No. I will not falter now. Not when we have come so far, and no matter the danger swirling around us.” Sera straightened her spine. She would not be driven from the country of her birth like a pheasant flushed from the undergrowth.