35. Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Five
Steig
It was just barely daybreak as Greya, Perse, and Steig approached the matriarch’s house.
The old, two-story home was similar to most other witches’ houses—a mossy stone building with a thatched roof and a large garden that surrounded it on all sides—though this one was a bit bigger.
But as they approached the arched, wooden front door, Steig noticed it had a large circular knocker attached.
“That’s one of ours,” Steig said, gesturing at the forged iron knocker.
“Really?” Greya asked, sounding surprised.
“Yep,” Steig replied, taking great pleasure in the irony.
Daemons had been posing as mortal traders for centuries, surviving despite witches’ ostracization, so the fact that one of their goods was on the door of the Aquilo matriarch’s house was just another sign of their resilience, and it gave him some modicum of comfort to be reminded of that before doing what they were about to do.
He’d been up most of the night wondering if he should back out—if he was making the right decision by choosing to help Greya—because not only did openly approaching the Aquilo matriarch’s house feel wrong on so many levels, but he was potentially putting himself and his family at risk by abandoning his mission.
But every time he went over it, he always came back to the same conclusion: he could do nothing, and things would remain the same.
The same danger for his family. The same separation that he dreaded.
The same horrors for the Underworld. Or he could do something different.
He could take this risk—for himself, and his family—and hope to Iblis that it worked out in their favor.
Because things couldn’t remain the same—he knew that.
It was time to take risks, especially with Ty on his way back.
So he’d decided again and again to go through with it.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t dreading it, or that he wasn’t prepared with daggers hidden all over his body in case he needed to fight his way out of this village.
Just then, the door swung open, interrupting Steig’s nervous thoughts and revealing a mousy, brown-haired witch, whom Greya had warned him was the matriarch’s apprentice, Pheeba.
“Greya,” the woman greeted in a friendly manner, her brown eyes crinkling in a smile. “Come on in.”
The three of them entered, per her invitation, and Steig didn’t miss the way Pheeba’s eyebrows raised as she fully noticed him. Thank Iblis, he had most of his tattoos covered up under his coat, but he was still larger than the average mortal or witch, not to mention a stranger.
Pheeba didn’t say anything, though, just simply led them down the hall to the matriarch’s altar room and brought them inside.
Steig was the last one in as they entered the dim, candlelit room.
Northe, Aquilo’s matriarch, sat at her desk in the far corner, her eyes tracking the three of them as they approached.
She was an older woman, maybe in her early sixties, with reddish hair that looked like it had faded to gray some decades ago.
But her eyes were still lively, and she looked shrewd in the way he hated about witches.
They were always scheming—or at least, some of them were.
Several chairs had been placed in front of her desk for visitors, but the rest of the room was surprisingly bare, aside from the rows and rows of shelves lining the walls that contained potions, journals, spellbooks, and a vast collection of ceremonial objects.
It reminded Steig strongly of the night they had gone through the Auster matriarch’s altar room, only to be interrupted by Ena, and he was struck by how long ago that seemed now.
Northe smiled tightly as the three of them stood before her, her sky-blue eyes both curious and cautious as she, too, clocked Steig’s presence.
“Greya,” she greeted with what Steig instantly recognized as feigned warmth.
“So good to see you. I haven’t had a chance to congratulate you on your Ascension yet. ”
“Good to see you as well, Northe,” Greya replied formally, nodding her head. Steig had half expected her to be friendlier with the woman, but her guard was up, and it was clear in that moment that Northe was not her friend—they were business associates.
“What is it you have come to discuss?” Northe asked with curiosity, her eyes flicking to Steig once more as the three of them sat down.
“I want to talk to you about the binding spell,” Greya said bluntly, interrupting the woman as she went to take a sip of tea.
Northe attempted to hide her reaction with a cough as she sputtered the drink, but it was obvious Greya had caught her off guard with that one.
“The…binding spell, dear?” she asked, playing dumb.
“I’m not sure if I’m familiar.” Northe’s eyes flicked meaningfully to her companions, as if to say, “we should not be discussing this in front of others,” and it made Steig have to force his ire not to rise.
He knew that the existence of the binding spell was a piece of knowledge that, up until recently, had been reserved exclusively for matriarchs, and it thoroughly pissed him off.
Not only had that kept daemons subject to it for so long, but it was just another example of the many ways in which witches controlled the narrative to daemons’ disadvantage.
But Greya hadn’t hesitated to blow those secrets and lies out of the water, and he begrudgingly respected her for it.
“It’s okay, Northe, my husband and…this man both know about the binding spell. We may speak freely,” she said confidently.
“You’ve told others about it?” Northe asked, her brow furrowed in confusion and shock. “This knowledge is forbidden beyond matriarchs for a reason, Greya. What gives you the right to break centuries of tradition?”
Steig tightened his hands into fists and had to hold his tongue to keep from telling this bitch to shut up and show Greya some respect. She was just as much of a matriarch as Northe was, and clearly a better one at that, and should be allowed to make her own decisions.
Greya took a deep breath, and Steig looked over at Perse, the two of them exchanging a look of solidarity. They had her back, but they’d only react if they needed to.
“I didn’t tell them, but they know all the same,” Greya replied calmly.
“And how, may I ask, is that possible?” Northe asked, her teeth gritted slightly.
“Because the bond has been broken,” Greya stated simply, getting straight to the point.
“Broken?” Northe laughed in disbelief. “No. No, dear, that’s not possible.
That would require…” Northe went silent as she clearly began doing the calculations in her mind—putting two and two together about the current state of relations between witches and daemons, and the ways their magic had changed.
“I’m sure you have heard reports of daemons’ and witches’ magic suddenly working against one another again, including what happened at my Ascension,” Greya offered patiently, helping her along.
“Are you saying…the broken bond is the cause of this shift?” Northe asked, her face grave.
“Yes, it is.”
“Good Gaia,” Northe breathed, bringing her hand to her mouth in shock. “This—this is huge,” she said. “How is it that you know this?”
Steig felt Greya tighten beside him, steeling herself for her response. “Because I had a hand in breaking it,” she said straightforwardly.
Greya had warned him last night about what she was planning to say, and acknowledged that it was risky—that revealing her involvement, and the fact that she’d kept it a secret, could harm relations between Aquilo and Auster—but Greya felt strongly that the time for secret-keeping between witches was over.
She wanted a new era—one in which truth and accountability prevailed.
And who was Steig to argue with that? But now, in the presence of this woman who so clearly did not hold the same values, Steig realized just how risky it had been.
“You broke the binding spell?” Northe asked, her tone appalled.
“Not me personally, no, but a witch from my Coven did, with my knowledge,” Greya explained, not giving an inch.
“One witch could not do that alone. The spell requires one from each Coven, just as it was when it was created. Are you telling me someone from my own Coven participated in this without my knowledge?”
Steig hadn’t seen that one coming. Would she reveal to Northe the other witch’s involvement, or would she lie to protect their identity?
“Someone from your Coven did participate, yes, but they were acting on Gaia’s will, as were the other two witches, because, Northe, there is so much more to the story than you know,” Greya responded, deftly avoiding the whole truth.
“The witch from my Coven who broke the spell, she had a vision from Gaia. In it, she saw the creation of the spell, and the nefarious motivations behind it. It was Gaia’s will that the spell be broken.
It had caused far too much damage to the balance for too long, and undoing it has given us a new opportunity. ”
“A new opportunity?” Northe asked, absolutely affronted by what Greya had said. “For what? For daemons to attack mortals, burn villages, ruin fields of crops? I’m sorry, Greya, but I am having a hard time seeing how unleashing their chaos onto the world is Gaia’s will.”
“Yes, it has allowed our magic to work unfettered against one another once more, but that is the way Gaia always intended it. Not to mention, not all daemons wish to do those things, or to serve Iblis. Breaking the bond has allowed them to access Gaia once more, and many of them wish to serve her as well,” Greya explained, trying to entreat with the woman.
“How do you know this?” Northe asked suspiciously. “Have you had contact with daemons?”
Greya looked over at Steig, and he froze.
Fuck. This was his moment to shine, he guessed.
“Because I have brought you one, to show you he, and many of his kind, mean no harm.”