Please enjoy this exclusive excerpt from chapter one of The Forest Witch: Book One in The Sibylline Saga.

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Gwenna

Compared to these efficient travelers, I was a wild thing. A creature of the woods, as at home on that tree branch as any bird or scurrying rodent. So when the trappers passed under my tree and the woman glanced upward, she didn’t see a young woman crouching in the sycamore. She saw an animal. A faerie. A thing. 

My heart stopped in my chest when we locked eyes. 

The woman froze, causing the younger man to clamber into her. 

“What is it, Marta?” the man asked, following her gaze upward. He found me after a few seconds of confused searching among the lower branches, and he paused as well. 

The first man continued a few more steps before he realized his companions no longer followed him. “What are you two gawping at?” he called. “I want to get out of this forsaken place. What’s the hold up?” 

I unfolded my body and stood sure-footed on the smooth bark, looking down at the trio on the forest floor. Their mule nosed around, unconcerned, for something to eat. 

“You should not be here,” I said, my voice low. 

The woman and the younger man trembled, but the other became angry. Tall and strong, he trampled back to get a clearer view of me. 

“What’s this? A little forest witch?” 

“Nate, no!” Marta hissed. She clutched at a rope of seashells around her neck. They must have been Authe Idans, possibly from Bluewater or Iolde, which were the closest cities on the southern border of the Sacred Wood. 

That explained why they dared come into the Wood at all. Authe Idans had forgotten the Old Way. To them, we sibyls were scapegoats or scary stories told to frighten children. Mindwalkers, they called us—people who could flit into their minds and lay their very thoughts bare. Sometimes, they called us witches or blamed us for cursing cattle, children, or the weather. 

And maybe such creatures had existed in the world once. If so, then they had disappeared centuries ago, along with the giants and the faeries, driven out of the world by the fear of man. 

Nate ignored his friend’s warning. “Come down here, girl! If we don’t belong, then neither do you. What are you doing all alone in the woods?”

I tried, truly I tried, to hang on to my reservations. But the shells around their necks and Nate’s leering tone drove away all thoughts of caution. The mental image of the monster I could be slipped away, like mist through the trees. I was only Gwenna, facing intruders who had dared to enter the Sacred Wood without fear. 

“I am not alone,” I said. 

A conveniently timed gust of wind roared through the trees. Branches heaved their loads of foliage and hanging moss, as if to shoo the trappers away. 

But perhaps it wasn’t a coincidence at all. For in the rushing wind hid the faintest whispers, the slightest thrill of half-remembered magic. The Wood had not abandoned me. 

I swayed on my branch, undaunted in the uproar. The feathers in my hair fluttered wildly in the gale as Marta and the younger man cowered. They turned and fled to the north with gasps of panic. 

But Nate was not afraid. He, like most Authe Idans, had forgotten what it meant to fear. 

“It’s just the wind, you idiots!” he yelled after his two companions, who pressed onward with renewed speed. Their long-suffering mule plodded along behind them. 

Nate turned back to me and sneered. “I’m not scared of you, witch. Come down here, or I’ll come up to get you.”

It wasn’t an empty threat. He had a lithe body, strong and capable. He could probably climb a tree as well as I, and my branch wasn’t particularly high off the ground. 

Now what was I supposed to do? 

Hiding had failed. Intimidation had failed. I was not strong enough to fight this man physically. I could run, but his legs were long and powerful. He wore sturdy boots, and though my feet were tough, it wouldn’t be wise to run barefoot through the brambles. I would only weaken myself with every incautious step I took. 

There was no alternative. It was against the rules, but I had no choice. There was nothing for it. 

Besides, I could not allow this fearless man to walk away from the Sacred Wood thinking it was nothing at all. The Wood had helped me scare off two of the trappers. Now it was up to me to get rid of the third. 

I slipped from the tree branch and landed noiselessly on the mossy earth in front of the man. 

Nate was very tall. The top of my head came only to the middle of his chest. He leered down at me. 

I was only eighteen, but that was woman enough for most. Despite growing up in isolation, I had not been sheltered from the hard truths of life. So, I didn’t need to hear Nate’s thoughts to know them. 

My hair could be combed, the mud washed from my body. My wildness could be tamed.

I was a toy to him, nothing more. Something naïve and pretty to look at and to warm his bed. 

By far, the worst thing was his arrogance. 

“That’s right,” he said in a smug tone. “Very good. Why don’t you come with me, little witch? We’ll get you a proper meal, some real clothes. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

He held out one grubby hand to me—and stopped. He hovered, expression frozen, hand extended without moving. 

Right at the very core of all people, there was a little life-string. A tiny, glowing link from mind to body. It called to me in a tenuous, lilting vibration. I only needed to wrap my mind around his life-string and take control. 

 A thrill of joy spread through me. This was easy, far easier than I had expected. 

I had only ever tried to coerce Michael before, and then only in controlled situations. Educational. This was real. Nate did not want to freeze, but he had no choice. Only I could decide. 

Nate lowered his hand to rest at his side. This was simple too. I controlled his body in the same way I did my own. The thought passed from my mind to his, as light as a breath of wind, and his body obeyed me. I only had to will it, and he complied. 

Though I could not control his thoughts, I could feel them all as they passed by. 

Witch! I can’t move! Just move, Nate! One finger. Blink! Fuck! 

I did not enjoy his rising panic, but it meant I had succeeded. He was entirely my puppet. And that realization drew a smirk of satisfaction to my face. 

I stepped closer, inhaling his sour body odor. He hadn’t washed in days. 

“When you wake up, you will leave this place,” I said. “You will not look for me. You will only remember. And next time, you will take the road around the Sacred Wood. You should not be here.” Then, using a trick I had perfected with Michael, I forced his mind into unconsciousness. 

Nate crumpled to the ground, fast asleep. 

I turned toward home and started walking, holding my grip on Nate’s mind until I was half a mile away. There I paused and monitored his thoughts while he regained consciousness. 

His confusion at waking up alone in the forest melted into terror when he remembered our encounter. He wondered briefly if I was still around but decided it would be best to simply flee. Nate trampled off through the brush toward the north, where his friends had gone before.

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