Chapter Sixty-Three
Jacinda
Jacinda ground her teeth so hard against one another, they felt as though they might splinter.
To summon a storm a fortnight ago would have been as easy as breathing.
Now the effort gouged her very soul. She glanced at the hill in hope.
The empty forest beyond pulled at her rapidly depleting energy.
Sybil’s fear radiated from the pyre, leaving a metallic taste in the back of Jacinda’s throat.
She had always been aware of Sybil’s moods.
Indeed, she had long suspected Sybil was her mother before she had confessed. The way her gaze lingered on Jacinda’s face
with quiet pride, the persistent love that endured no matter how stubbornly Jacinda fought back against Sybil’s rules.
The hurt that echoed between them the day after they saw Jacinda’s father in the street that one time.
Exhaustion tugged at Jacinda. Her entire body was suddenly impossibly heavy.
The clouds overhead continued to churn, a storm simmering but not boiling.
Tears burned in Jacinda’s eyes, a knot of frustration clenching at the back of her throat.
She needed only hold on a few more moments.
For Sybil. For Lilith. For herself. For the descendants she wronged so completely with the linking spell.
For every daughter of the earth who ever felt the weight of judgment and persecution.
A flare of energy roared through her, feeble by comparison to what she’d possessed in the days before. But a spark still amid
her draining energy.
Rain came down harder, spattering against the tinder of the pyre, slapping at Jacinda’s face.
As soon as the energy arrived, it ebbed, bleeding out.
It was too little. She could not help Sybil as she thought she might.
She was too weak.
The hot salt of her tears mingled with the rain.
Her eyes closed, yielding to the exhaustion.
“Wait.”
Her eyes flew open at the familiar voice. At the direction the cry had come from.
She looked to the forest and her heart leaped.
Finally.
Kat had arrived.