Chapter 16
JOSIE
With a dogged determination detonating inside of me, I pump myself up, building energy and courage before making my move. Here we go. As quietly as possible, I spin on my good heel and open a passage through the thick blackberry bush, ducking through and?—
A ricocheting blast catches me in the shoulder and sends me off balance. My head smacks against the rough ground. It knocks me stupid, adding about a dozen more stars into the night sky as they dance around my vision.
“You just had to prove me wrong, didn’t you?”
Gaia doesn’t respond, but I bet she’s out there somewhere laughing at my expense. Or maybe she’s saving my life by urging me to yield and call it a night because, clearly, I suck at this.
I groan as I roll onto my bruised side and prop myself up on aching limbs. I’m covered in a mix of dirt, sweat, and blood, every inch of my body begging for a break. Spitting blood into the dirt, I wipe the back of my hand over my mouth.
Suddenly, a familiar caw pierces through the noise and chaos. I look up to see Phi tucked away in the low branches of a tree that stretches into the edge of the magical barrier.
Our eyes lock, and in that moment, I consider making a bold choice. Was this her plan from the beginning? Back me into a corner so I’d have to say yes and take her as my familiar?
No. I won’t let my desperation make this decision for me.
I don’t have the luxury of mulling it over.
Breathe. Think.
Francine said we were allowed to use anything within the boundary of the arena.
What would Grand-Mère say if she knew what I was about to do?
No rules, Rune’s voice echoes in my mind.
“No rules,” I say out loud, a sense of resolve washing over me.
I’ve been living according to someone else’s wishes my entire life. Even now, I’m living by the standards Grand-Mère taught me—without following it herself.
That I’m on the same page as Sebastian Fontenot should tell me how bad of an idea this is. What I’m about to do may be the biggest fuck-up of my life, but it’s my life to fuck up.
I lock gazes with Phi. Maybe there’s already some connection between us, or maybe she can tell I’m out of options, because an unspoken understanding passes between the two of us and the raven spreads her huge wings.
She stretches her feathers to their full span before diving from the branch with a rasping call. The raven swoops low, claws extending as she comes in for a landing.
She lilts to the side and fumbles the landing, collapsing hard into the dirt and bumping against my feet as her body rolls.
When my fingers brush the silky tip of her feathers, Phi flinches, scurrying onto her feet and hopping a few steps away from me.
Jeez, she’s really in bad shape.
With my mind clouded by misdirected anger and hurt, I didn’t realize how close her magic was to fizzling out.
“Hold on, Phi,” I urge her. She might be a demon, but that doesn’t mean I want to see her hurting. She’s done nothing to harm me.
Not yet, anyway.
And right now, I need her as much as she needs me. Pushing up to my feet, I scan my surroundings to figure out my next move.
First, I take a page out of Yzma’s book and surround myself in a cocoon of my own magic until I can save Phi and tag her into this fight.
This is going to take some time. I haven’t done this before and have no idea how to forge the bond of a familiar.
“What now?” I ask the raven.
She clacks her beak at me in response, which is no help at all.
“You have to seal it in blood,” Rune calls, his voice warbled beyond the wall of my shield.
Of course.
“Why does everything come down to blood?”
Phi doesn’t answer, and in the midst of battle, with spells being thrown at me, I don’t have the luxury of time to wait for either of us to figure it out. Leaning down, I offer my index finger and pray I still have blood to spare.
Even though I’m expecting the jolt of pain, I still wince when Phi’s beak breaks the skin.
Pressing against the wound to bring more blood to the surface, I draw the binding rune in the dirt between myself and my soon-to-be familiar.
Something clangs off my shield, but I don’t pause to see what. I force myself to stand my ground and finish this. My spell will hold. It will hold. I repeat it to myself until I’m done.
My lines are shaky, but the rune is passable.
Nothing happens, and I lift my gaze to the raven. “Anything?”
Phi caws at me weakly, completely unhelpful.
I sigh. “Yeah. That’s what I figured.”
What did I do wrong?
I’m sure there’s more to it than just a symbol in blood, but I don’t know the ritual words. I look at Rune, but he doesn’t have the answer either. His face doesn’t show any of the worry Finn’s does, and the only thing I sense from our unity bond is a sense of conviction as he watches me.
Grand-Mère always said a witch’s magic was more about intentions than words.
With the tip of my finger still beading a fat red blob of blood, I shut out everything else—the fighting around me, the hollering from Rune, the doubt and fear of taking a familiar—and I focus.
I give it my all this time, all the while praying to Mother Gaia that this is the right decision and putting conviction behind my magic.
The moment I finish retracing the symbol in the dirt, a presence wavers at the periphery of my mind. Phi? I call inside my mind to the entity.
It pulses in recognition, and something within me sings. I reach out to the entity, poking at it hesitantly. As soon as I make contact, a powerful blast of magic reverberates across the courtyard and steals my breath.
Pebbles rumble underfoot with the strength of it. It sends a momentary hush through the crowd and the remaining witches battling. All eyes turn toward where I stand in my bubble with the raven.
I barely notice them, though. As the blast settles, the connection solidifies. A piece of my soul has merged with Phi’s essence, and a piece of hers is now within me.
We are irrevocably joined.
In an instant, I can sense Phi’s wisdom, her age-old knowledge, and a well of untapped power that lies within the raven in front of me.
More than that, I can feel Phi’s presence in my mind. I prod at it again curiously, testing, and jolt when she turns her beak up at me, cawing sharply.
It takes my brain a moment to process, but when it does, I let out a small shriek of excitement. We are officially bonded.
Phi is my familiar, and I am her witch.
The raven, too, seems affected by the bond. Her once dull, shaggy feathers shimmer with an iridescent blue gleam, reflecting the magic that courses through both of us. It fills me with a jolt of pure energy. Phi spreads her wings and raises her beak for a triumphant call.
The raven’s caw, once filled with mystery, now holds a note of determination and loyalty. And, I realize with giddy excitement, I understand her.
Let’s kick some ass, Josie,she says into my mind.
“No need to translate that one, Rune,” I shout into the crowd, turning my attention back to the slinging of spells that have resumed around me.
Connected to Phi with an influx of power and clarity, I feel almost unstoppable. As spells whizz by, my newfound abilities allow me to dodge attacks with uncanny speed and counter with spells of my own.
Phi’s magic blends seamlessly with mine.
This is freakin’ awesome.
I haven’t shown you anything yet!
She’s right—when I let the bubble shield drop and the two of us rejoin the raging battleground as one, Phi and I not only hold our own, but kick some major witch ass.
Forging a familiar bond has transformed my performance in this trial and made me a force. It’s like I’ve downloaded years of skill and practice.
I’m not the only one who notices the shift, either. The skeptical gazes from the spectating witches have been replaced by ones of awe and reverence. Usually, being at the center of attention gives me the urge to curl into a ball and disappear.
Here and now, it fills me with pride—like maybe I can prove myself and earn a place in the coven. Together, Phi and I could even conquer the next two high priestess trials.
Don’t get ahead of yourself, kid. It’s been a while since my last fight—I’m a little stiff.
Right.Phi’s voice in my head brings me back into the moment. We need to make it through this trial first. I don’t have any doubt now that we will.
Connected with our familiar bond, relaying information is seamless and instantaneous.
I skirt around the broken remains of the fountain to keep a low profile. Phi flies above, keeping an eye out for our next opponent.
It’s getting down to the last few of us now, and tactics are changing.
Josie!
Phi’s screech is suddenly cut off, and when I whirl and turn my face skyward, I find my familiar frozen in midair, just hanging there like someone pressed pause on her flight. My heart sinks at the thought of losing her just minutes after finding her.
I’m okay,she says—thank Gaia for that—but her voice sounds strained somehow, like it’s some great struggle.
What’s going on then? I project my thoughts at her as hard as I can and hope it gets through whatever spell she’s trapped in.
The low hum of constant, monotone mumbling clues me in too late. Someone’s caught Phi—and now me—in a petrification enchantment.
I fight against the hold the unseen witch has on me, but it’s no good. Every part of my body feels like it’s encased in lead. I can’t even get my pinky toe to wiggle.
Okay, a different tactic then.
I pinpoint the source of the noise and squint at the rippling fountain, squinting harder when colors start rippling as well.
Am I seeing things? No—the longer I watch from my frozen, crouched position, a witch with golden hair shimmers into view in front of me.
Her image shifts slowly from a ghostly translucence to a solid figure. Sitting under the splashing water has made her makeup run, smearing black around her eyes in a way that reminds me of Avril Lavigne circa the early 2000s.
Fake Avril’s mouth moves constantly as she casts, and I try desperately to think of a way to break her concentration. She glides slim fingers along the pale skin of her thigh through the long slit in her dress.
What is she—the glint of metal catches my eye and in the next moment, she pulls a dagger from a sheath strapped to her thigh.
That makes more sense than an impromptu, mid-battle strip tease.
“Fight, Josie!” Rune yells when the witch starts wading through the shallow water towards me.
What does he think I’m doing? I would yell at him if I could, but even my lips are frozen. No matter how hard I push against the spell, I can’t break it and I’m running out of time. The soaked fabric of the witch’s dress weighs her down, and she has to brace herself on the stone edge of the fountain as she clambers over.
I’m out of options. It’s yield or die.
Except, how do I yield if I can’t open my mouth? I am so completely screwed.
As Fake Avril checks her surroundings for any witches waiting to blindside her, the broken remains of Delaney’s body catch my attention, just a few feet away.
Please help me.
I don’t know whether I’m sending the silent prayer to Mother Gaia or Delaney, but I hope one of them is listening.
And then…I know what I need to do.
I take a breath and summon my magic, remembering how it felt to control the dead in my family crypt. Apparently, raising the dead is like riding a bike because Delaney jolts the second I will her to move.
It makes me sick, thinking that just a few minutes ago she was vibrant and alive, and now I’m using her corpse and reducing her to nothing more than a puppet.
Pushing down the self-loathing, I focus on the task at hand.
Phi’s shock echoes in my mind. You didn’t tell me you’re a necromancer!
The term makes me cringe even as I wield a dead body like a tool. Delaney’s limbs roll and she staggers to her feet with janky, uncoordinated movements. I have no idea how she’ll help, but right now, she’s my only hope.
I push harder, urging her to hurry as Fake Avril has reached me and leans close, her knife clutched out of my line of sight.
The cruel smile she gives me will haunt me for life—which may only be the next few minutes. She meets my gaze, tracking my pupils.
Realization comes too late. She spins just as Delaney comes up behind her, swinging a closed fist. It doesn’t connect, but it breaks the chanting.
I jolt forward as I’m suddenly released from the enchantment. “Now it’s two against one.”
This time when Delaney swings, I’m ready to back her up. When Fake Avril moves to avoid the hit, I go low and kick her knee out from under her. It lets Delaney use her weight to pin the witch against the edge of the fountain.
Yes! Yes!Phi glides over my head, no longer frozen and eager for an opportunity to assist. I knew choosing you as my witch was the right move.
At least one of us is excited about my power. Personally, I would have preferred an ability like Rune’s. Even if my new power did just save my life for the second time in as many weeks, I hate using it.
But I don’t let up with Delaney. Not yet.
“Tap out!” I yell at the witch, determined to make it out on top. There can’t be many witches left competing.
A sudden flare of anger ignites inside of me, morphing my determination into a pure rage that spreads, red hot, through my veins. My fingers flex as Delaney’s tighten their hold on the witch and shove her head beneath the water.
Fake Avril’s fingers scratch against Delaney’s arms, but it’s useless. It doesn’t take long for her limbs to start flailing, panic winning out over strategy.
Stop, Josie. The poor witch needs to breathe. I hear Phi’s words, and somewhere in the recesses of my mind, their meaning registers. But what she’s saying isn’t as important as the all-consuming anger drowning out everything else. Josie, no! You’ll kill her.
I blink and snap out of it—whatever that was. The anger dissipates as quickly as it came on, leaving me reeling.
I don’t want to win enough to kill for it.
Delaney hauls the witch out of the water, her makeup running worse than before and streaming down her cheeks, accenting bright blue eyes, wide in shock.
She gurgles, spitting up fountain water, and I stumble back, horrified with myself as the witch I almost killed gulps in a desperate lungful of air. “I yield,” she chokes, voice scratchy. “I yield!”
Delaney releases her hold completely and we both watch as our opponent slumps to the ground, defeated. Delaney raises her dead, unseeing eyes and stares at me like she’s waiting for me to tell her what to do next.
“I’m sorry for what I made you do,” I say to her quietly, “and for bringing you back in the first place.” I swear there’s a spark of recognition in her empty gaze for a moment.
Moving close, I let go of my control and ease her to the ground as she goes limp. I send her off with a silent prayer of thanks and hope that her soul is at peace. Rest well, sister.
As I leave the witch’s body on the ground, a sharp whistle rings out across the courtyard, signaling the end of the battle and bringing everything to an abrupt standstill. When I look around me, sure enough only four other witches are left standing—Summer, Beatris, and two others I don’t know.
Reality hits me then.
I did it. I made it through the first trial.
I turn my attention to the flapping of wings above me and correct myself as Phi descends.
“We did it!” I’m exhausted, probably have a concussion, and may very well lose my foot, but I ride the moment of triumph before it all comes crashing down around me.
The bubble barrier pops, and the crowd of witches stream into the courtyard, onto the battlefield to envelop those of us who competed—eager to congratulate the final five and to tend to the wounded.
Well,Phi says as we’re surrounded, after tonight, everyone will certainly know the Dumont family has made their return to the Big Easy.
No kidding.
It’s not surprising that none of my sisters rush to my side. Especially after witnessing me using Delaney’s body like a puppet. Still, it’s a stabbing reminder that I don’t belong here.
“Zana!” Finn shouts frantically. “We need a healer, now.”
Am I really that bad off?
When I look for my Celt, I find the crowd parting, and my vampires come into view. Fintan’s spike of fear diminishes when I give him a weak thumbs up.
“Well done, cher.” Rune bowls past him to scoop me off the ground and into his arms with a celebratory whoop.
Sebastian doesn’t come any closer than the edge of spectators, but he does give me an approving nod, which from him, is as enthusiastic as Rune pumping one fist in the air.
He spins me around in his arms, his hand firmly on the curve of my ass, holding me against him.
I celebrate the moment along with my Viking, ignoring the way my body protests, pain flaring with every movement. I could really use Zana’s healing magic. I don’t care—I’m proud of myself and I want to celebrate my win.
When he finally sets me down, I hop out of Rune’s arms, intent on including Phi in the moment as well. My new familiar is already gone. Scanning the night sky, I spot the dark outline of wings cutting through the stars above before she disappears over the roof of the mansion.
Blessed be, little demon.
“Well done, sisters.” Francine raises a hand to quiet the crowd. “We have our five. The second trial will be to create a new potion and present it to the coven in two days’ time. The potion will be judged on strength, purpose, and originality. Happy conjuring, ladies.”