Chapter 9 #3
“Wren, this isn’t your fault,” my mom murmured, stroking my hair away from my face and untangling a tendril from my glasses, which were so badly streaked with dirt from my tumble in the woods that I could barely see.
I couldn’t agree with that, and so instead I said, “It’s been isolating, starting from scratch while everyone around me has grown up honing their craft.
I’m not blaming you, Mom,” I added quickly, because I could see my mother’s face beginning to crumple.
“I understand why you did what you did, and I’m not mad at you, not anymore.
But I can’t pretend that it hasn’t had an impact, and that playing catch up isn’t hard, because it is.
But tonight at the Shadow Tree, I felt really and truly connected for the first time, not just to Sedgwick Cove, but to all the Vespers who came before me.
For the first time since I started my training, I felt like a link in a chain instead of just one person, groping around in the dark. ”
A sniff from beside me betrayed the fact that Persi, who generally seemed to be allergic to sentiment of any kind, was holding back tears. Rhi reached out and put a hand on Persi’s shoulder, and Persi immediately slapped it away.
“I just need a tissue!” she hissed.
“Anyway,” I said, “it’s made me realize I don’t have to do this myself—that I shouldn’t do this myself.
That grimoire, the Source, messages from Asteria, none of that belongs just to me; and even if they did, I need help.
I need all the help I can get. That means you three, but it also means the Conclave, and anyone else we know we can trust. A woman is dead. We can’t keep secrets anymore.”
The three sisters didn’t need to say anything aloud to realize they were all in agreement. They simply traded a knowing look around the circle, and Persi sealed it with a grumbling, “Fine.” But then Rhi stood up suddenly, knocking her chair over and making us all jump.
“Okay, Wren is right. We can’t keep the grimoire a secret. We should have known we couldn’t. But that doesn’t mean we can’t protect it.”
“What are you suggesting, Rhi?” my mom asked.
“Whatever it is, we have to hurry.” She had to yell the words at Rhi’s retreating back, however, because Rhi had already turned and run out of the room.
We listened in silent confusion while she rummaged around and cursed under her breath in the library.
Then she appeared again, panting slightly, and with her hands full.
I tried to make sense of the items I saw—a long curling strip of birch bark, a candle and box of matches, a raven’s feather, and a length of green ribbon—but remained as confused as before.
My mom, however, let out a soft “oh!” of comprehension, and Persi’s face broke into a slow-blooming smile of understanding.
“A Binding. An excellent idea, Rhi,” Persi said.
I wasn’t completely clueless. I’d learned about the various types of Bindings used in witchcraft—whether it was to Bind two people together, or to Bind a person or an object from doing harm.
But I was definitely still unclear on what exactly was happening as Rhi returned to the table.
My mom spotted the look on my face, and took pity on me.
“Our biggest worry,” she explained, “is that Ostara will convince the rest of the Conclave that the book isn’t safe.
They would never be allowed to destroy a coven’s grimoire, but they could vote to lock it away or otherwise prevent us from using it, at least in the short term, while it’s being examined. ”
“Would the Binding prevent them from using it?” I asked.
“No, it would Bind our coven to the book, so that we can’t lose it again,” she said.
“But… why didn’t we just do that the first time? Then it never could have become lost,” I asked.
“Ah, but you forget, our coven lost the book on purpose,” my mom said. “They were trying to keep it concealed. Binding us all to it would have made it discoverable.”
“You realize Ostara is going to expect this, right?” Persi said, her wicked smile fading. “It’s going to be the first thing she checks for.”
Rhi’s smile only grew broader at these words. “Persi, sometimes the only conclusion I can draw is that you think your big sister is an imbecile.”
Persi’s mouth fell open. “I didn’t say—”
“I’ve already thought of that,” Rhi plowed on, laying the Binding implements out on the table. “That’s why we’re not Binding the book to us directly.”
I frowned. “But you said we have to Bind it to our coven. Aren’t… aren’t we the coven? So how—?”
But as though in direct answer to my question, there was a sudden whirl of fur, and two shapes leapt up onto the kitchen table: Freya and Diana. Rhi grinned as she reached out and scratched Diana between her ears. Diana closed her one eye lazily, deigning to accept the show of affection.
“Oh!” I said, as the realization hit. “Will that… is that going to work?”
But Persi and my mom were also smiling broadly, and so I had my answer.
Together we sat around the table. Freya and Diana sat patiently as Rhi plucked several long hairs—black for Freya and white for Diana—from their lustrously fluffy tails, to which indignity neither cat seemed to object.
She placed the hairs inside the grimoire, right on top of the page with the Latin inscription, murmuring an incantation under her breath.
As she did this, my mother lit the candle, and Persi began scratching a sigil onto the inner layer of the birch bark with the sharpened tip of the feather, her head bent low over her work, so that her curtain of dark hair hid her from view.
After less than a minute’s frantic scratching, she flung the feather aside with a triumphant, “Done!” And thrust the bark into Rhi’s waiting hands.
I caught barely a glance of the spiky, complicated sigil she created.
“What does it mean?” I asked, as it passed under my nose.
“It makes the grimoire discoverable. Wherever it is, the coven familiars will be able to see through any glamours or enchantments obscuring it with their inner eye,” Persi explained.
Carefully, so that the bark didn’t split, Rhi wrapped it carefully around the outside of the grimoire, and secured it with the green ribbon.
She also secured several more black and white cat hairs into the knot as she pulled the bow tight.
Then she hovered her hands over the grimoire for a few more seconds, her eyes closed in concentration.
Finally, she opened her eyes with a satisfied sigh.
“It is done,” she announced, dropping her hands to her sides.
Freya and Diana both sniffed at the book, as though inspecting her work. Then, as though declaring themselves satisfied, they leapt off the table and disappeared, tails whipping around the corner.
“Now what?” I asked.
“Now we remove all signs of the Binding, so the Conclave isn’t clued in,” my mom said. “And then, we wait.”
We didn’t have to wait long. Within a few minutes there was a sharp knock on the door.
“Here we go,” Persi muttered, rising to answer it. “Once more unto the breach.”