CHAPTER ONE #2
Hoping no one had noticed her slight pause, Nyssa dropped the next ingredient into the cauldron.
‘We offer rosemary, to purify evil in all parts.
We offer dried eggshells, to cleanse our hearts,
And finally, we offer cinnamon, for its ability
To grant us safety, strength and stability.’
Nyssa watched the crystals intensely with each ingredient added, the sense of dread in her stomach growing the longer they remained dim. But finally, as she and the rest of the coven came to the end of the chant, they started to emit a faint, flickering glow.
Nyssa let out a small breath of relief. The glow strengthened her conviction, and she held her head a little higher as the ritual finally came to a close.
‘Spirits, ancestors, guardians
For your aid we thank thee.’
It was only as the coven fell silent once more that Nyssa noticed a slight difference in the colour of the crystals’ glow.
Instead of their usual golden hue, the crystals were shining with something more akin to the colour of rusted brass, and judging by the gasps of the coven, Nyssa wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.
‘What in the name of—’
Edith was cut off by a blast of light and a gust of wind so fierce it blew each of the ritual candles out and sent the large chandelier hanging over them crashing into the ceiling with a deafening clang.
The magic the coven had channelled into the crystals had been released with the blast, and it now hovered in the air around them like early-morning mist.
Nyssa had barely righted herself by the time the magic faded away, leaving the crystals as dull and lifeless as they had been moments before.
And then all hell broke loose.
Noah – sweet, lovely Noah – began choking, his dark eyes bulging as he reached up to grasp at his throat. All as one, the coven lunged towards him, the scent of their magic rising as they readied to fight off whatever unseen force was hurting one of their own.
‘Noah, what is it?’ Edith asked. ‘What’s—’
His gasps for air stopped suddenly, and Nyssa watched, horrified, as his mouth opened with a rasp. Almost in slow motion, the same dark liquid that she’d seen in the cauldron began to gush from his lips.
A wave of alarm ran through the other coven members as they watched Noah clutching at his throat.
The chamber was momentarily transfixed until, instinctively, Nyssa moved forward, her magic drawn and ready to use.
But Edith got there first, her voice rushing out in a cool, firm cadence as she began to chant.
‘Ancestors above and ancestors below,
reverse this magic, let it be so.’
Noah continued to claw at his throat for another few agonising seconds, and then finally, blessedly, he began to cough up the water, spewing it on to the stone floor until a large, inky-black puddle was left.
He’d never looked so young as he sat there trembling, face pale, eyes bloodshot and filled with tears.
For a long moment, no one spoke. The coven members stared at Noah, mouths slightly agape, as if they couldn’t quite comprehend what had just happened.
And then Edith turned her steely gaze on Nyssa and strode towards the cauldron. She peered inside, no doubt making the same connection between the water in its depths and the water Noah had almost drowned on.
‘What did you do?’
Nyssa gaped. ‘I didn’t do anything. I don’t know what—’
‘You used the wrong salt.’ Edith lifted her finger from the cauldron, which was now coated with small flecks of black, ash-like salt. ‘You cursed him.’
‘I … No, I couldn’t have.’ She’d measured each ingredient herself. Had been certain they were all correct.
Or she had been, before that damned bell had made her jump and her looming tardiness caused her to regather the ingredients in a hurry.
‘It’s all right.’ Noah had gotten back on his feet, and despite the way he held himself – as if he was unbothered by what had just transpired – Nyssa could see the slight tremble to his hands. ‘I’m fine. We can start over—’
‘No,’ Edith held up her own pocket watch, ‘the window for the ritual is closed. We can’t do the spell again now until next month.’
‘So what does that mean?’ asked Eko, a slightly older half-elf who’d joined the coven a few years back.
Nyssa spoke before Edith could, her voice as hollow as the pit in her chest. ‘It means the coven will be forced to go without protection until the next ritual.’
Because of her. Because she’d made another stupid, careless mistake. And this time, there was nothing she could do to fix it.
‘I’m sorry,’ Nyssa said, trying not to let the tears prickling her eyes fall. Crying would only make this so, so much worse. ‘Noah, I’ll take you to the infirmary, and I’ll create extra protection amulets for the rest of the coven immediately.’
‘And how can you guarantee they will work?’ Edith asked.
She didn’t look as judgemental as Nyssa expected her to.
No, the look on her face was one of resignation.
‘You’ve been off your game for a while now, Nyssa.
You … Perhaps it’s best if you take a break for a bit. Go somewhere new, clear your head.’
‘I don’t have time to take a break.’ Nyssa’s voice came out sharper than she’d have liked, but anger was an easier emotion to focus on than the shame threatening to burn through her. ‘I’m your coven leader.’
Edith lifted her chin. ‘Perhaps you shouldn’t be.’
The words hit Nyssa like a particularly sharp slap to the face. For a second, the wind was knocked out of her, and it took her a moment before she found her voice. ‘… What?’
Edith at least had the grace to look slightly uncomfortable. ‘This isn’t the first mistake you’ve made, Nyssa, and it … hasn’t gone unnoticed. You leave the coven with no choice but to suspend you indefinitely. Your return shall be subject to evidence of improved magical stability.’
Nyssa glanced around at the rest of the coven, searching Kilan and Prim’s faces for any sign that one of her fellow mages – her friends – might come to her defence. Instead, she found resigned, stone-faced expressions and gazes filled with guilt.
But it was Noah’s silence that finally undid her.
Noah, who had said in his coven interview that he’d looked up to her for as long as he could remember.
Who had said Nyssa’s reputation as the youngest head mage in coven history had inspired him to apply for The Coven of the Sacred Owl in the first place.
Noah, who could now barely make eye contact with her.
See? Nyssa’s inner voice said. Even he knows what a failure you are.
Nyssa cleared her throat, fighting to keep her voice steady. ‘Very well. I’ll … pack my things …’ She trailed off, before turning on her heel and leaving the chamber as quickly as she could without breaking into a run.
The walk to her office felt far too short, the chilly London wind buffeting her as she hurried across the courtyard.
Before she knew it, Nyssa was back inside the familiar space, surrounded by the life she’d built here over almost a decade.
The journal she’d started when she’d first arrived at the covenstead in London on a cold, November night, filled with spells and musings about the changes she could bring to the Sacred Owl.
The cauldron she’d been gifted by her fellow coven members when they’d appointed her head mage.
Shelves and shelves of spellbooks filled with annotations, some centuries older than her, all entrusted to her as she’d risen through the ranks.
The little window seat where Nyx currently slept, unaware their entire lives were about to change.
Nyssa held back a sob and tried to tell herself that they were just things. That they would all be here when she came back.
But this time, when her inner voice spoke up, she couldn’t block it out. Not when, it said.
If.