Page 37 of Summer of Sacrifice

Rah and Amira both murmured expletives Seleste couldn’t quite make out. She went on to explain the rest of their situation, recapping where the other members of their band of misfits were and finally reaching an agreement to contact Amira the moment they learned where Chresedia’s exit point would take place during the eclipse.

“I need to get going,” Seleste said as she rose to her feet and bent to give Amira and Rah a kiss on their cheeks. “If you need me, I will be in Castle Merveille for the foreseeable future.” As she straightened, preparing to translate back to Merveille, she took a shot in the dark about something else that had been gnawing at her since her argument with Sorscha. “What do either of you know about Nadja Rashad?”

“The leader of Araignée?” Rah asked, tapping his cane against the floor. “The leader after Lorelai and Ambrose, that is.” Seleste nodded, and he shook his head. “Again, I was so young when I was there. She was kind to me, but I don’t know much else.”

Amira nodded her confirmation. “She was long dead by the time I arrived there. Her children run Araignée now.”

Yes, yes, all things Seleste already knew. Irritation flashed through her, and she tried to recall the last time she’d rested. Irritability was not something she was prone to unless she was horribly exhausted. Perhaps it was time for a bath when she returned to Merveille.

“Did either of you hear anything about Nadja being mixed up in…” She had to put it delicately. “Dark arts of any kind?”

Another befuddled look passed between Rah and Amira. “No, never,” they both agreed.

“Did your family not practise necromancy at Morgana’s Acadamy of Alchemy?” She pressed the empress.

Amira straightened one of her many bejewelled rings. “They did, yes.” A small shake of her head sent her elegant, chignon of braids to swaying. “But that was several generations ago and our gift to meddle in such things was either punished or extorted. My family learnt what we could and then kept to ourselves, rarely letting anyone know we could meddle in necromancy. That included anyone at the Academy.”

Seleste bit her tongue to better control her frustration, responding to Amira calmy. “Of course. That makes perfect sense.”

“You need rest, dear one,” Rah said with mock severity.

“You are quite right about that.”

Seleste wished them both well and transported to Merveille, making a beeline for the lavatory in the rooms Aggie had so graciously set aside for her—the ones she had occupied before marrying Grimm. Now, though, it was a room of decadent peaches, oranges, and bright yellows, with a perfect view of the castle gardens and a towering lattice of all Litha’s favourite flowers to drink nectar from. Aggie had arranged the room and redecorated it so quickly that it must have been by magic. Every tiny detail was a Summer witch’s dream, down to the giant clawfoot copper tub and seven potion recipes along with their ingredients.

Looking at the list of recipes, Seleste smiled. It was no doubt Sorscha’s touch. Perhaps an apology for their earlier dispute. Seleste ran her finger along the glass jars of flora, oils, and salts as the tub filled with warm water at the behest of her magic. The bottles sat neatly tucked onto a ladder shelf decorated with honeysuckle vines, their fuschia blooms soft to the touch.

Finally, she settled on Sorscha’s Revitalisation Spell. Taking care to follow it exactly, Seleste slipped the lid off one jar at a time and gently placed the ingredients in the water.

•Rose petals (pink offers the best fragrance for revitalisation)

• Orange Peel

• Orange Oil

• Lemon Balm Leaves

• Lavender Buds

• Moonwater

• Black Salt

Revitalisez-moi, corps et âme.

Apporte la paix et le calme dans ma vie.

Seleste uttered the words to Sorscha’s spell as she sprinkled in the salt charged by Mother Moon. Instantly, a deep peace filled her to the brim. Sinking down into the water, she tried to quiet her loud mind, but it remained mostly unaffected by the spell, and continued sorting through information the way her cunning sorted through observations and a cypher through coded messages.

Nadja Rashad had been the one to aid their mother. The leader she set in place when the Sisters’ parents had fled Araignée for Helsvar… Something was not adding up.

Her past always sat in a corner of her mind, of her heart, but it was usually a locked tomb she never entered. She rubbed at her temples, droplets of water sluicing down her arms like Summer rain down a window. The thought sent a flutter through her heart.

Unwilling to drown in her past any longer, Seleste stood in a rush, water sloshing over the side of the tub. Quickly, she donned a yellow chiffon robe without bothering to dry off. She needed to busy herself with the Druid markings Laurent had deciphered. It was needed, and it would distract her well enough.

Walking across the bedroom toward the desk, she caught sight of herself in the looking glass and paused. Lifting one hand, she lightly touched her clouded, sightless eye as tears gathered.

What would he think of her now? Her lips instantly tipped in a smile. Would he appreciate the curves of her body where the robe clung to her wet skin and her nipples peaked, visible through the sheer fabric?

---