Chapter 6
Jessamine guided the new witch into the kitchen and sat her down at the table that was covered with a patchwork quilt. Elissa was shaking like a leaf, her entire body in a state of shock.
Leaving Elissa to her thoughts, Jessamine set about making her a cup of tea.
Shockingly, she hadn’t been pooped on yet.
She was more of a lady than Elric was a gentleman, so she had yet to mention it.
But while she was tossing the leaves into the teapot and waiting for the kettle to shriek, she noticed one of the birds did poop.
In a flash, the refuse was caught by magic and whisked away out the kitchen window.
She’d never seen magic so readily used, especially not in a district so close to the castle.
The Pleasure District got away with a lot more than the rest of the kingdom. After all, if magic was used to entertain, then surely it wasn’t all that dangerous. As long as it amused the rich and the powerful, it wasn’t scary.
“Here we are,” she said. The kettle whistled, she poured the boiling water, and collected two matching teacups with bees painted on the sides. She set everything in front of Elissa, who still looked like she’d seen a ghost, and then attempted to get the woman out of her own feelings.
“This is a lovely tablecloth.” Jessamine fingered the hand-stitched edges.
“My mother made it.”
“Such precise stitches.”
“Better than me.” Elissa’s hands were still shaking as she lifted the cup to her mouth and took a rather loud, unladylike sip. “She would never have made a mistake like this.”
“All witches make mistakes. It’s hard not to when you’re given so much power but have no one to teach you how to wield it.” Or at least, that’s what she assumed.
“Are you a witch?”
Should Jessamine lie? It seemed wrong to do so when they’d only just met and Jessamine needed this woman to help them. A contact in the Pleasure District, especially one with Elissa’s connections, would only aid their cause.
“Not really,” she replied. “I’m a gravesinger.”
Oh, it was the wrong thing to say. Elissa froze again, staring at her with wide eyes as the blood yet again drained from her features. Either the woman was very expressive, or she was going to have a terrible headache with all these terror responses.
“A gravesinger?” Elissa repeated. “Like… the gravesinger?”
“Well, from what I understand, there used to be more of us.”
“You’re the one who raised him?”
“Resurrected,” she couldn’t help but correct. “But yes.”
“Oh.” The rattling teacup was set down on its dish, and Elissa then planted her hand on the table. “I think I need to lie down.”
Jessamine leapt up and grabbed Elissa by the shoulders.
She was already weaving where she stood, and if she wasn’t careful, she was going to pass out on her own kitchen floor.
“Why don’t you sit down and put your head between your legs for a second?
Catch your breath, have another sip of tea, and then we’ll talk some more.
I promise, nothing bad is going to happen to you. ”
A knock on the door made Elissa nearly slide out of her chair before it burst open and Sybil strode through.
She wore a new scarf around her head, a rather pretty crimson color with black butterflies hand-painted on it.
Her coiled hair was now swept back to show her gleaming skin, Nyx riding on her shoulders like a warrior going into battle.
“I stole this from my cousin, and then your god summoned me.”
“In the back.”
“Good enough.” Sybil didn’t even acknowledge the other woman in the room, walking through the house like she owned the place before disappearing into the back room.
Elissa made a soft sound in the back of her throat. “Who was that? And was that a cat?”
“Sybil, another coven member. And yes, a cat. My familiar. She’ll behave herself.
” Jessamine knelt between the other woman’s legs, holding on to her hands as though she could give Elissa some point of grounding.
“Listen, from my understanding, when you sacrificed to the Deathless One, you willingly became part of his coven. You worship him, do you not?”
Still far too pale, Elissa’s gaze met hers with frantic intensity. She whispered, “I didn’t think he was really alive.”
“None of us did. But that’s quite all right, don’t you think? He’s going to help you. And now you’re part of something so much larger. A coven. Isn’t that what your mother always wanted?” Perhaps it was a bit manipulative, but Jessamine knew how to convince someone to accept their mistakes.
Her mother had been impossibly good at that. She’d seen the queen tell people right to their face that they’d chosen to make a mistake because they would learn from it. And they had been happy to believe her. A good leader knew how to ease someone’s mind, even if that meant twisting it a bit.
“Is having a coven a good thing?” Elissa asked.
Jessamine could see how important the answer was to the other woman. Elissa wanted to believe that a coven would give her something she didn’t currently have. They could be friends, teach her magic, give her power and security beyond what she could even imagine. All the things girls dreamt of.
She squeezed her hands, resolving to help this young woman no matter what the cost. “It’s a very good thing. I think you’re going to like us quite a bit.”
The door to the back room banged open so hard that the birds above their heads all burst into flight.
Jessamine shouted over her shoulder, still on her knees, “Would you stop doing that? Open the door like a gentleman. Don’t slam it open like a bull!”
The shadowy figure in the doorway shot her a glare. Elric was practically bloated with magic. Deep streaks of black marked his cheeks where he’d touched his face while casting the spell, and she could see it writhing underneath his skin like eels in a bucket.
His black gaze turned to Elissa. “Kill one of your birds.”
“E-excuse me?” she stammered.
“Kill one of your birds, or your beloved ends up dying like a common animal.”
“Well, she does appear to be a macaw, so… that’s a long life.” Elissa swallowed hard, and then wilted beneath his unimpressed stare. “Does it matter which bird?”
“Magic always comes with a price. You cast the spell, and you sacrificed magic of your own. Now there needs to be intent to save. Kill the bird that matches that value of the spell. Do you understand me?”
Elissa nodded and slowly stood. She took a while looking up at the birds before she finally reached out her hand for one.
A delicate creature landed on her outstretched hand.
It was beautiful, with long tail feathers that almost reached the floor.
A riot of cool tones, greens, blues, and delicate whites.
Without another word, she went out the door and made her way into the garden. Jessamine could only see her silhouette from this far away, but she knew Elissa was petting the bird and talking to it.
“Is this really necessary?” Jessamine asked, feeling her own heart break just a little. “She loves these birds.”
“She loves the woman she turned into a bird, too.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“You aren’t doing this just to punish her? She must feel bad enough already.”
“If I didn’t need the sacrifice to do this, I wouldn’t take it. My magic comes from death, Jessamine. I have never pretended otherwise.”
She turned her gaze away from the woman in the garden and looked at him. He was otherworldly when he cast spells. He stood taller, stronger, more confident in moments like this. Clearly not a man, but a god.
He was everything she had always wanted to have with her as a child. A protector, someone who wasn’t afraid to do terrible things to make sure that she stayed safe. And yet, in this moment, she feared that wasn’t the right choice.
He stared back at her, and she knew he was sending her a message.
She needed to believe him, to know that magic never came easily.
It was the cost of being a witch, something she might never understand.
She was connected to him as a gravesinger, but not in the same way the rest of the women were.
He was their sacrifice. A feast of magic if they fattened him up first, like a prize pig.
Elric’s throat bobbed in a swallow, sympathy in his gaze. “It is done. I will return for her in a moment. I need to help Sybil weave the spell before I can come and talk with her.”
“I’ll be here.”
She waited by herself for a while, standing when Elissa came back inside. The witch’s hands were shaking, but she returned as a different woman. Stronger. More steely in her expression. “Will that suffice?”
“He’s already weaving the spell. He’ll be back in a moment.” Jessamine took the other woman by the elbow and guided her into a chair. “Sit. Drink your tea. It’ll all be over soon.”
“I didn’t think witchcraft would be like this.”
“Neither did I,” she replied with a soft smile. “I was dead when he found me. He tricked me into coming back and then used Sybil to guide me into his service, I suppose.”
“Do you regret it?”
Now, that was something she could answer honestly. Without hesitation, Jessamine replied, “Not a single bit. I am who I am because of what they did. I trust them both with my life, and I’ve seen with my own eyes that they would do anything to protect me.”
“But you are the gravesinger. That is your purpose. They protect you so that you can protect him.”
“No.” Jessamine shook her head. “We all protect each other.”