Page 30 of Summer of Sacrifice

Sorscha howled. Seleste and Agatha couldn’t help but laugh as well.

“In truth, one of the troupe members passed out from the heat, and that effectively shut everything down. Vera ended up doing the healing for me and Laurent wanted to mess with that”—she moved her hand in a dismissive wave—“apparatus thing Seleste gave him, so I took a nap. What’s all this about?”

Seleste quickly filled Winnie in before Agatha posed her opinion on the matter.

“It had to be Chresedia using the goddess quill to manipulate our Orders. Look at how everything has lined up for us. Those awful Orders written for us by Talan have perfectly placed…everything. For Chresedia.”

Seleste’s lips quirked sadly. “Aggie, most of your Orders lined things up for her. For all of us, really. We’ve done some dreadful things, but they weren’t all bad, even the worst of our tasks. Grimm wouldn’t even be king if it weren’t for your Orders.”

Agatha watched her Sister Summer carefully, something was off. She shook the thought loose. “True. What was your Order from Talan, Seleste? It was that year with your Summer boy, right?”

She could have sworn Seleste blinked too many times, but Winnie interrupted, looking at each of them. “Wait. Am I the only one who received Orders from all four Sisters?”

Sorscha exaggerated a perplexed frown. “Uhhh… Yes?”

“The three of us had only one from Talan each.”

Winnie shook her head, silvery-blonde hair sliding over her shoulders. “My Orders to cease contact with the Druids and to give up Lilette were both in Talan’s hand, but I had many other Orders from her, as well as Hissa, Monarch, and Belfry.”

Bewildered, the four Sisters regarded each other, lost in thought for several moments before Sorscha groaned.

“None of this settles anything! It could have been Mother doing all of this.”

“How could Mother know all the proper details?” Seleste asked logically. “Athania, however, has a connection to The Primordial.”

“And we saw Winnie’s memory.” Agatha gestured widely to Sister Winter, growing increasingly more impatient with the stifling heat and their debate. “She heard Father say that the woman— What was her name?”

She’d directed the question at Winnie, but Seleste answered. “Nadja.”

“Nadja. In the vision, Father said she did not make it out—we don’t know out of where—with the quill. Only the journals. And we know she died from the injuries she sustained after bringing them to Father. We have to assume it was Chresedia from whom Nadja took them since we know that The Order is the one who stole them in the first place.”

Letting out a garbled screech of frustration, Sorscha stood from her stool. “Winnie was a child. She could be misremembering, or it could have been a different quill they were discussing, or Asa’s mother could have been lying?—”

“Wait,” Agatha cut in. “Asa’s mother? What does that have to do with anything?” Realisation struck. “Nadja was Asa’s mother?”

Sorscha nodded. “The woman who retrieved the journals was Asa and Lena’s mother. Nadja Rashad.”

A gasp tore from Seleste, and they all spun to look at her.

“Seleste?” Winnie asked. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost. Are you all r?—”

“I–I’m sorry. I have to go.”

Agatha blinked, and their Sister Summer was gone.

SORSCHA

All right. Maybe—maybe Asa had been correct. The scent of roasted chicken smacked her upside the face upon entering the mess hall, making her stomach ache in hunger. Ostara, wound around Sorscha’s forearm, darted out her tongue as if to say she took Asa’s side.

“You stop it,” she hissed at the snake.

Sorscha nodded and traded short pleasantries with the other residents, making a point to stop off at Sophia’s table to ensure she was feeling all right. The transition off Sugar had been difficult for those they’d rescued from the brothel in Bowery. Not to mention, their magic was still mostly depleted. However, Gaius’ concoctions and the abbey healers’ gifts had done wonders in the last fortnight especially. Sophia had even begun casting spells, and Bethany had summoned an apple just the day before.

The mages were such a peculiar lot. They were nowhere near as powerful as witches, as if their magic was diluted. A curiosity she hoped Aggie would be able to clear up as Lady Magic. She was, after all, the mother of all magic, gifted from Hespa. Was she not? Even Arielle had sensed it in her, with all that ‘kernel of aboriginal magic’ mess. Primordial.

Damn, if it wasn’t all too confusing. And her Sisters so insufferable.

Fine. Asa had definitely been right. She needed a rest. And a fucking drink.

---