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Try them, let him heal, and try more. Make him suffer.”
    His tone was heavy, and unease built in Tessa’s belly. “But?”
    “But I thought about it all night, and I can’t tell if doing this would be justice…or darkness.” His blue eyes met hers.
    “Of course it would be justice.” She shook her head. “Look at what’s happened since—”
    “I know exactly what’s happened. I also know the lure of those dark ley lines. They try to reach us even here, try to influence every one of us. Even me.” He picked up an amulet from his desk and idly rubbed it. “Condoning torture isn’t who I am. It’s not who we, as a coven, are.”
    “Why not let the coven decide? It sounds like they want blood.”
    “Exactly. They want it. Part of me does too, but the reason why?” He shook his head. “I won’t lower us to Vespera’s standards.”
    Tessa’s jaw dropped. “Dad. He fell out of the freaking sky and landed in our backyard! If that’s not a sign for us to deliver justice, I don’t know what is.” But even as the incredulous words flew from her mouth, a seed of argument rooted in her stomach. Scorpio’s aura, which she could read easily. Honor. Duty. Protect.
    Crap!
    “You echo the thoughts of many, I expect.” He looked at her with equal parts assessment and compassion. “But I’m going to consult with the Elder witches first.”
    “Okay. Good.” That meant her dad wasn’t ruling out any possibilities. His standard MO involved weighing every option carefully, and this particular situation was made more complicated by the emotion running through the coven. Scorpio was the catalyst for Bronwy’s woes, and he now lived and breathed at their mercy.
    But torturing Scorpio wouldn’t get their land back or improve their lives in any way. A brand new fledgling objection to harming Scorpio dug in and expanded, and its stark terms startled her. What she might view as justice would serve no good purpose. None. She bit her lip, more confused than ever.
    At times like this, Tessa was glad she wouldn’t automatically become the leader one day. Covens didn’t operate on a ruling family system, but rather on a popular vote, whenever there was a vacancy in leadership. And she would never, ever ask for this job.
    Besides, she would be taking her place at Damien’s side soon.
    The door flung open, rousing her from her gloomy reverie. She shuddered, not wanting to think of the Vespera leader or the arrangement she’d made with him.
    A short stocky form stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the sunlight behind him. Only a few, like her, didn’t bother to knock on Hallon’s door.
    “Hi, Winston.” Tessa grinned at the Elder’s mop of wild gray hair. “We were just talking about you. Sort of.”
    “Ach, that’s why my fourth toe was itching.” The old mage walked in and plopped down in an overstuffed chair. “What is it?”
    “I’d like to consult with you and the others about our prisoner,” Hallon said. “But we can do that later. What brings you here this fine morning?”
    “We need more amethyst crystals.” Winston leaned down to remove his shoes and rub the toes of his right foot.
    “We’re out already?” Tessa asked, surprise and dread mixing in her gut.
    “Yes, child. We sell so many of the healing charms, and they’re used in those. One of the few high selling items these days.” Winston sniffed. Healing charms worked well on minor injuries and sicknesses that might befall witches. More serious situations required a healer, though not every village had one.
    The items Bronwy could make had become limited, due to their supply area being reduced by Vespera. They were still able to grow many herbs, but the soil of their new land wasn’t as rich and nurturing as that of the old land. A few things didn’t grow at all…and the crystals were only found in a hidden pocket of the forest on Vespera’s land. Vespera knew they still created the healing charms, but thought Bronwy had a large