Chapter 11 #2
Even after a couple of days immersed in Covens and Wielders, I still knew very little about their world. But something about the two women who brought up breakfast told me they weren’t Wielders.
“The staff… Are they mortal?” The sound of steel clashing and raised voices drew my attention back to the wall of windows. The frost had disappeared, but we were too high up to see who was causing the disturbance.
Granny cleared her throat, pulling my attention back to the conversation.
“Most are. Mortal staff are required to have a fealty spell cast so they cannot share any details about what they see here.” Something about the way Granny said that sent shivers down my spine.
“Less than ten staff are Wielders and serve the Northern Coven; they each have their own permanent rooms here.”
A cheer of triumph sounded from outside.
“So, aside from the staff and these guests you mentioned that arrived last night, who lives here permanently? What lucky buggers call this place home?”
Granny’s eyes flashed with a faint sheen. “Just Seren and I.”
My traitorous heart broke a little at hearing that.
She stood in one fluid motion and stepped towards the wall of windows, scanning the forest in the distance. Only then did I realise she wasn’t wearing her usual black getup but something between a dressing gown and a robe that shimmered the closer she stood to the window.
With her back turned, I could see her hair wasn’t coiled in its usual tight knot either. It fell down her back in a loose plait. Granny looked almost normal, or as normal as someone in an extravagant silver cape could look at six thirty in the morning.
“I assume you have a multitude of questions to ask regarding the events of the last few days and what your purpose is now that you are here to train and serve the Northern Coven.”
I nodded for her to continue.
“Since yesterday evening, thousands of Wielders from all over the country have been gathering at Llwyn Onn. In two days’ time, all four Covens will come together for a celebration to mark the beginning of a series of trials known as the Anoethau.
Wielders who are of age will use these trials to show the Gods they are worthy of serving as their vassals.
Although all who serve a Coven and have power call themselves Wielders, they don’t necessarily get chosen to be a vassal.
The majority, however, do. The number chosen has been dwindling for some time.
We can’t say for certain why, but the Coven leadership believes the gods grow increasingly displeased with us.
Each year, fewer and fewer vassals are chosen, and with that, each Coven’s power diminishes.
During my own Anoethau, it was almost assured that all who completed the final trial would be chosen.
Covens would put forward ten, sometimes even twenty, competitors.
But in recent years, we’ve been lucky if the top three are selected.
As a result, the trials have become increasingly brutal; fatalities are now a given.
Covens no longer risk training the weak, only choosing the strongest who are of age to give the Coven its best chance at survival. ”
Granny looked over her shoulder, and her harsh eyes met my own. A shiver snaked down my spine, and I suspected it didn’t have anything to do with her powers.
“The gods have no mercy for the weak. Nor do we.”
My breaths became short and shallow. “What’s so terrible about weakness?” I croaked.
“A weak Coven doesn’t survive, Non. It vanishes.”
The intensity of her gaze and words made me squirm in my seat. “What exactly is this vassal thing you spoke about? I don’t think you covered that in my How to be a Bloodthirsty Witch 101 classes.”
Granny cocked a brow in disapproval but continued.
“A vassal is a Wielder who channels enhanced power from a specific god. At the end of the trials, the participating Wielders perform a ritual that thins the gateway between here and Annwn, the Otherworld where the gods reside. This allows the gods to pass their power between realms, thus choosing a vassal. The trials consist of three rounds. If by the final round the Wielder has not been chosen as a vassal, it is assumed they aren’t worthy. ”
I blew out a breath. “Let me guess, you want me to sign up for these trials?”
“Absolutely not. That’s why I summoned you today, to tell you that you are to steer clear of the events entirely. Although you are of age and seemingly can wield something, you haven’t had a scrap of training, physical or otherwise.”
That was music to my ears.
Shrugging, I stood from my chair. “Works for me.”
“Glad we are in agreement,” Granny snapped.
“This was lovely. We should do brunch again sometime. I’ll have my people reach out to yours,” I said over my shoulder with a wave.
The next thing I knew, my feet were swept from underneath me. My arms pinwheeled, and I landed hard on my tailbone. Groaning, I rolled onto my stomach and found myself looking at a pair of silver slippers. As I planted my hands on the floor to stand, I felt the cold sting of ice beneath my palms.
“You hadn’t been dismissed,” Granny barked, standing over me.
She turned on her heel and sat back down at the table.
I didn’t want the conversation to end up like the one I had had with Seren.
Although the visible damage had healed, I could still feel the ache of a double broken nose deep in my bones as I returned to my chair and sat—gently, so I didn’t make my now-bruised arse cheek even worse.
“Your training will commence in a few days and will consist of both wielding and physical exercise, although I suspect Seren will want to focus on the physical first,” Granny said as she eyed my stomach. Cheeky bitch.
“Your cousin oversees the sessions within the Northern Coven. Jazz has been informed of when and where you need to be each day during the coming weeks. They are tasked with escorting you to the appropriate locations.”
The idea of training with Seren made my palms sweaty, but a small part of me was glad I’d have Jazz with me every day at least.
“It’s also worth mentioning that, like before, you are not to divulge who you are or your relation to the Meredith family.
People would expect any family member of mine who is of age to be competing in the Anoethau.
If the Cyngor Blaen discovers this, then there is nothing I can do to intervene.
Keep your head down and blend in. Hopefully, you can get through this without getting noticed. ”
“At this rate, I might as well just legally change my surname.” Granny responded with a noise that almost sounded like a forced laugh. “What’s a Cyngor Blaen?”
She let out an exasperated breath. “Did you retain anything from your How to be a Bloodthirsty Witch 101 classes, as you call them?” I levelled her with a deadpan look. “Cyngor Blaen is the name for Coven leadership; it consists of each Ledr and Ail.”
Granny waved her hand at the dishes from breakfast. They vanished in her usual cloud of white smoke and were replaced by a steaming teacup and a small plate of biscuits. I wondered why she needed staff at all if her power was capable of so much. Probably just for the pageantry.
Granny nodded towards the door. “Aside from Jazz, Ledr Emna, Ail Llew, and Seren, you are not to trust anyone else with that information. Are we clear?”
“Crystal. Are we done here?”
“No. We have the matter of your punishment to discuss. Your performance yesterday outside my study was unacceptable. Someone could have seen you and your power.” She didn’t even look up from the tea she stirred.
“Was the battering Seren gave me or the little ice puddle trick you just pulled not enough?” I protested.
“You disregarded a basic command given by your Ledr, which resulted in the assault of a fellow Wielder and Coven member.”
“She had me on my arse! What was I supposed to do?”
Granny glared at me. “I have taken this into consideration when deciding a fitting punishment.”
My eyes rounded. Only my grandmother could watch someone kick the shit out of me and then blame me for it all.
“Commencing the day after the Anoethau celebrations, you will be assisting with the night watch of Llwyn Onn. Ail Llew will be able to give you further details on what is expected of you. You will also be given the appropriate weapons for the watch.”
What in the world would I need a weapon for?
I was eager for the verbal lashing to end, so I tucked the question away to ask Jazz later.
Silence stretched between us, but I was careful to not ask if this conversation was done again.
The ball was clearly in Granny’s court. Eventually, she stood, turning to exit through the carved doors behind her.
“You’re dismissed,” she said over her shoulder.
“Thank you for your time, Ledr Bronwen. Benevolent as always,” I said as I bowed at the waist.
I felt more than I saw her stiffen out of the corner of my eye. A flurry of wind whipped towards my back as I stumbled through the door, slamming it shut just in time. With a thud, an icicle as long as my forearm protruded through the wooden door, stopping only a few inches from my face.
Jazz took a tentative step towards the glacial weapon and pricked a finger on the razor-sharp end. “So, that went well then?”