Chapter Thirty-Four
Freya
A s we followed Gloria through the foyer and past the grand chandelier, my gaze flitted to the tall windows. Outside, the moon remained high in the sky. We had time to discuss what I had learned before attempting the spell to transform Clyde.
When we reached the expansive lobby, the six Elders waited for me at one of the many mahogany tables. All of them wore their plum cloaks, though Gwyneth’s long, dark locks were so rumpled, I wondered if Gloria had pried her out of bed. Poised as always, Lyra sat with her spine straight and her dark eyes alert, though her tan skin was a shade paler than usual. Anise sported her signature frown and tucked a piece of her short, pin-straight hair behind her ear.
Surprisingly, they had reserved the head of the table and the seat beside it for me and Walker. Gratitude warmed my chest—perhaps my coven believed in me after all.
Artwork decorated the walls, and light glimmered on the black-tiled floor. As Walker, Gloria and I sat, I studied the tiny, white sculpture of Hecate on the center of the table and silently prayed for wisdom.
I laid the book on the table, and the Elders recoiled.
“Greetings, Elders,” I said before they could pepper me with questions. Though they eyed the book with suspicion, they murmured their own welcomings. “I apologize for waking each of you, but I trust Gloria has informed you of what we learned on our journey?”
Luckily, their focus returned to me. My confidence grew—they trusted me to explain the book and its thrumming magic in due time.
“Yes, Coven Mother,” Mabel said. The Elder’s white curls billowed around her tired face like a cloud. “We know of your plans for the hunter.”
“We know the child plans on dooming our coven,” Anise muttered.
I flinched.
So much for trusting me.
Maeve laid her umber hands on the table and shot her fellow Elder a glare. Rage blazed in the usually serene witch’s green eyes.
“Cordelia harmed one of our young,” she countered, “it is time to play by new rules.”
“Exactly,” Walker agreed.
“Let us hear what you learned from the betrayer before we get into that messy business,” Lyra suggested. She frowned at the book. “And I hope you can provide an explanation for that.”
I took a deep breath and recounted everything Josephine had explained, except for the emotional bits and details. I couldn’t talk about those without crying, and I would not cry in front of my Elders.
When I finished my retelling, Gloria was the first to break the silence. She toyed with the silver chain around her neck. “That thing has been in our home for years, now?”
“Josephine was good at keeping her secrets,” I said and swallowed. “So was my mother.”
“Evidently,” Mabel agreed. The Elder studied me with a steady, brown-eyed gaze.
“She never mentioned the chimera to you?” she asked.
I shook my head and buried the pang in my chest. Arion leaped into my arms and nuzzled my stomach. Gloria dropped her chain and sighed.
“I can’t believe she kept that insidious book here,” Gloria said, “but I might know how she obtained it.”
My jaw slackened. “You do?”
“Oh shit,” Walker murmured.
The other Elders voiced their surprise, and Gloria held up her hand to silence them. When the table was quiet, she continued.
“Years ago,” Gloria explained, “the High Witch tasked Sybil with locating the chimera, and your mother leaped at the chance for glory. Josephine and I were the only ones she told about her assignment because she wanted to return victorious and surprise the coven with her triumphs.”
“But Elle can’t be much older than us,” Walker argued.
Gloria nodded. “She’s not.”
“ The chimera?” I repeated. “The High Witch implied Elle was the only one of her kind too, but how is it possible that there is only one?”
A realization struck me, and my magic swelled in response to my growing frustration.
“And how could you keep this from me?” I asked. “You knew Walker and I were tasked with searching for the chimera, but you said nothing about this?”
Gloria buried her face in her hands.
“Your mother bespelled me with silence,” she explained. “Not only did she magically forbid me from speaking of her dealings with the chimera, but she also enchanted all my thoughts and memories of that time to quiet. I didn’t remember any of this until I saw that goddessdamned book.”
My ire lessened a fraction. Though it was childish, I was tired of being the only one left out of my mother’s loop.
“She was gone for weeks,” Gloria continued. “She didn’t even allow Josephine to accompany her, though, your goddessmother clearly learned something from Sybil’s travels.”
The Elders paused, and I leaned forward in my chair.
“Well,” Walker said. “What happened?”
Gloria rolled her eyes at his impatience.
“I’m working through a powerful spell,” she sniped. “Please, excuse my struggling memory.”
“Take your time,” Lyra suggested, patted Gloria’s arm, and glowered at Walker.
“Insolent boy,” Anise chided.
Gloria squeezed her eyes shut in concentration.
“She told me she failed to capture the creature,” Gloria explained, “but I didn’t believe her. Sybil was always a poor liar, and I had never known her to fail, so I hounded her for the truth.”
“Sybil confessed that she had found the chimera.” Sorrow coated Gloria’s words. “But she couldn’t hand it over to the High Witch. The chimera was a mere babe, and Cordelia wanted it dead.”
Though I had harbored my suspicions, hearing the brutal truth aloud made me gasp.
“How long ago was this?” Walker asked.
Gloria swallowed. “Twenty years ago.”
Cordelia wanted it dead.
“She’s going to kill Elle,” I whispered. Tears pricked my eyes, and my heart raced. “The High Witch is going to kill Ryder’s mate.”
“The wolf would know if his mate was already dead,” Maeve promised me. “He would feel it through their soul-binding connection. There is still time to save her.”
“Are we certain we should save her?” Anise argued. “I know the High Witch deserves reprimand after what she did to the young Moonflower witch, but what we’re talking about here is treason, and not to mention, suicide.”
Worry flashed in the crotchety Elder’s honey brown eyes, and I remembered that these women had helped raise me. I was their family as certainly as they were mine.
I took Anise’s hand. “I can do this. I swear it.”
“Gloria,” Lyra said suddenly. “I remember Sybil taking a weeks-long journey two decades ago. She never told me where she went, but I remember she didn’t return with only a book. She returned pregnant.”
“Yes,” Mabel replied. The Elder perched on the edge of her chair. “The coven was so excited about the baby that no one inquired about where Sybil had gone.”
“What about Freya’s dad?” Walker asked.
Gwyneth cocked a dark eyebrow. “What about him?”
“None of you asked who he was?” Walker asked. We stared blankly at him—no one wondered about witches’ sperm donors. Walker shook his head and sighed. “He might know something. Maybe he was involved in Sybil’s journey.”
As if my mother would’ve involved a man in her quest for greatness.
It was more likely she had gotten pregnant specifically to cause a distraction.
“It doesn’t matter if he did or not,” I said. “We don’t have time to track him down—not while Elle is in the High Witch’s custody. I must get her out.”
“We will,” Walker said, “but don’t you think this lead might be worth looking into—”
Mabel waved a hand. “We’re getting off-track. How does this dreadful book factor into all of this?”
Walker grumbled under his breath.
“All Sybil told me about the book was that it possessed a great and terrible power,” Gloria said, “and that it was written by a being even more horrifying than the book itself.”
“It was written by the sorceress,” Walker suggested.
“But who is she?” Lyra asked. “Other than a being capable of controlling a chimera? Another creature whose power we possess little understanding of.”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, “but there’s only one way to find out. We need to read the book.”
“You’re dallying in dangerous magic, Coven Mother,” Gwyneth warned.
“Do any of you have a better idea how to get the answers we seek?” I asked.
Taut silence was the only reply. I didn’t give myself time to lose my nerve. I braved the eerie magic and flipped to the first page. Power swelled under my fingertips, and my ears popped. One line of text in the unfamiliar symbols was scrawled.
“It's written in Magus Solis,” Maeve recognized. “The original language of magic.”
“I've never seen it,” Anise admitted.
“Neither have I,” Walker added.
Clearly nervous, the cowboy toyed with the ends of his sleeves, and the Elders ignored his unhelpful commentary.
"It's more ancient than the Olde Tongue?" I asked.
Maeve nodded.
“Conjuring and Craft: The Foundations of Magic,” Lyra read, “by…”
The Elder squinted at the text. “Medea.”
The room plunged into darkness.
Magic roared and rattled my chest. My ears ached from the pressure it exuded, and I wanted to crawl under the table. Arion shrieked and clawed his way out of my lap.
I blinked rapidly, but nothing cleared the impenetrable shadows masking my vision. I reached for Walker, but my hand only grasped air. I tried to summon my magic, but even it cowered in the face of such horrific power.
I floundered in the darkness for what felt like centuries but was probably mere minutes. Incantations pierced the roaring, pulsing magic. I grabbed onto the Elders’ spell like a lifeline and joined their chant.
The familiar power of the Coven of Hecate broke through the gloom of the sorceress’s magic, and my own power pushed against the roar of the book’s might. I embraced the heat of my magic and its song in my throbbing ears, until eventually, the darkness dissipated, and the book’s power receded.
No one had moved from their seat. The only sign anything had happened was how pale everyone’s faces had become.
“Maybe you should let the High Witch deal with the chimera,” Mabel whispered, “if it means keeping that at bay.”
I swallowed. “It won’t work. Josephine said—"
“We’re taking her advice now?” Mabel shot back. “After all she did to our coven in life, we must let her wreck us in death, too?”
“No,” Gloria snapped, “but Sybil died saving Cadence. Have you not stopped and considered there is a greater reason for that?”
“But if Josephine knew Cady’s purpose,” Walker argued, “why did she ever try to kill her?”
“She was mad with power,” I said then added softy, “and love.”
As Walker’s eyes bored into mine, longing brimmed in them.
“We can’t let the High Witch kill the chimera,” Gloria said. “Everything Josephine knew about the creature and the sorceress came from our former Coven Mother. If Sybil doubted Cordelia’s plans, I doubt them as well. The best course of action to stopping that power from spreading like a plague is to save the werewolf’s mate.”
“We can’t let Cordelia have the chimera,” Lyra agreed. “I don’t trust her intentions, nor do I trust her plans, but one thing is certain. If you find the chimera, and she truly is a link to this power, she must never be allowed near this book.”
“And you must never,” Maeve added, “ ever say that name again.”