Chapter 4 #2
Nova’s lips curved into a satisfied smirk.
“If your true intention is not to betray your coven, then you won’t be able to do it.
You can perform a spell, speak an incantation, mix a potion or lay a hex, but without that true intention, none of it will work.
You have to want to break the Covenant, Wren, and we all know that’s the last thing you want. Right?”
“Right,” I said. The word surprised me. As sure as I was a moment ago that I was going to crack under the pressure, I now felt the pressure lift and vanish—pop, like a soap bubble.
“My mother knows this, by the way,” Nova said.
“It’s the thing that bothers her the most. No matter how much we want to believe that Sarah Claire was misunderstood, or tricked or innocent somehow, we know it’s not true.
What she did required intention. If Bernadette had just accepted that, we could have avoided a lot of the mess of the last few months.
” Nova shrugged. “So, I guess what I’m saying is, stop being such a drama queen.
You still have agency, Wren. As long as you have that, the Covenant is safe. ”
“Thank you,” I said, expelling a long breath before glaring at her. “And I’m not a drama queen. This stuff is like… genuinely stressful, you know.”
“No, I don’t know. Because I’m not the ‘chosen one,’ remember?”
She used sarcastic air quotes. I threw a pillow at her face. And just like that, everything felt back to normal.
And then I remembered that "normal" meant a roomful of witches and Durupinen waiting for me downstairs, and sighed.
“I’d better get back down there. They’ll all be waiting for me,” I said.
“Off you go then, chosen one,” Nova said, still smirking.
“I absolutely refuse to let that be my new nickname,” I told her, as I headed for her door.
She pretended to pout. “Aw really? I was gonna put it on a shirt for you. Chosen one merch.”
I stuck my tongue out at her and left, leaving her chuckling behind me.
Okay, so maybe we really were friends.
As I pushed open the library door, the quiet murmur of voices settled into silence. I knew my face was burning, but there was nothing I could do about it.
“Sorry about that,” I said. “I just needed a moment. I’m fine.”
“That’s totally understandable,” Celeste said kindly. “You are young, and this is all rather a lot of pressure for anyone to withstand. I admire you, Wren. You must be proud of her,” she added, looking at my mom.
“I am,” she said, putting her arm around me as I sat back down beside her.
“We all are,” came Persi’s voice from near the window. She barely met my eye before she looked back out over the water, but it was enough to bring a lump to my throat.
“I would like to offer our assistance,” Celeste went on, “in your quest to better understand this Darkness, but I’m not sure what help we can be.
I shall, of course, set our Scribes to work in our archives and libraries, to see if we can uncover any mention at all in any of our history or lore.
And if you are in need of anything in your own quest, our resources are vast. Please consider them at your disposal. ”
“Thank you,” Ostara said, though her tone was far from grateful. She seemed offended by the implication that we would need anyone else’s help. I, on the other hand, felt bolstered.
“I’m still in touch with Jess,” I said, finding the courage to speak up. “I’ll be sure to, uh… keep her posted on any progress we make.”
“That would be much appreciated,” Celeste said, smiling encouragingly at me. “You could not have a better mentor in a situation such as this. Jess has overcome some remarkable challenges in her time as a Durupinen, and I know she’d be more than happy to help you in any way she can.”
I nodded. Jess had expressed as much to me, but it was nice to hear it from someone else as well.
My mother stood, resting her hand protectively on my shoulder. “If that’s all, I think we’ll be heading back to Lightkeep Cottage. As you said, High Priestess, this is all rather a lot of pressure on Wren. Ostara?”
I could tell my mother didn’t like asking Ostara’s permission to leave. But Ostara seemed more than happy to let us go.
“Thank you, Vespers,” she said. “You may go.”
Celeste rose as I did and held out her hand once more. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Wren.”
“You, too,” I said hoarsely, taking her offered hand and shaking it.
My mom led me out, Persi and Rhi behind us.
“‘You may go,’” Persi repeated, in an exaggerated impression of Ostara’s imperious tone. “Goddess, that woman is insufferable.”
“She’s trying to save face,” Rhi said, as we all pulled our jackets, scarves, and hats off the hooks on the wall, and bundled up. “It’s obvious that Celeste woman has far more power than she does, so she’s trying to exert the little she does have.”
“Right, because that’s what this whole meeting was really about,” Persi muttered. “Stroking Ostara’s ego.”
I expected my mother to weigh in, but she was too busy looking at me with that nurse’s look, like she was trying to diagnose me with something. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked me.
I was relieved not to have to lie to her face. “Yeah. I really am. Nervous, but okay.”
My mom kissed my head and then pulled my hat down over my ears. “Good.”
I followed my mom and Rhi out the door, but when it didn’t close behind me, I turned back. Persi had stopped halfway down the hallway, staring at something on the wall. I hesitated a moment, then walked back down the hallway until I was standing beside her.
It was a painting. Small, and square, matted in blue-gray and framed in a rose-gold frame. It depicted a lightning storm over the ocean.
“This was on her easel, the first time she let me see her studio,” Persi murmured, more to herself than to me.
I knew I should say something, but the words wouldn’t come. Anything I said would be wrong. Stupid. As I struggled, my ears perked up at the sound of Ostara and Celeste’s voices on the other side of the library door.
“It is very generous of you,” Ostara was saying, “but I assure you that the covens of Sedgwick Cove will protect this place as we have always done.”
“Of course,” Celeste replied, diplomatic as ever.
“Nevertheless, the offer still stands. I would like you to think of us as partners in this venture. I have been impressed with what your magic has been able to do, and I know that you are as eager as we are to see the Source safe, even if our motivations are… different.”
“Motivations?” Ostara’s voice was sharp now.
“I mean no disrespect,” Celeste said. “But the Source does not hold the same meaning for your covens as it does for the Durupinen.”
“You imply then that our motives are self-serving,” Ostara said.
“I mean no disrespect. I hope only to reassure you. We have no personal stake in the Geatgrima. We seek only to protect it, and that means that this so-called Darkness is now an enemy we have in common. I will have to consult with the rest of the Council. The Darkness is an existential threat to the Geatgrima. Removing that threat is now a priority. If your covens fail to uncover the nature of it, we shall make it our personal responsibility to discover it ourselves.”
I jumped as the front door shut, and I whirled around to see that Persi had left. I hurried to follow her, but not before I noticed the empty space on the wall where the little painting had hung.