Page 40 of Summer of Sacrifice

“Hello, you.”

Yula closed her big eyes, nuzzling into Winnie’s attention. A few moments later, the owl startled, wings flapping in a dramatic exit as Winnie yelped—a form materialising in front of her. “Seleste! You gave Yula a heart attack!”

“Apologies, Sister. I need to speak with Laurent.” She bent, unfurling the star map on a mossy tree trunk, pointing to a cluster of stars that made a distinct shape. “I believe the few symbols he hadn’t decoded might match up with this.”

“Of course.” Winnie stood, slipping on her boots. “He should be preparing the tent for a performance tonight.”

Seleste jumped to follow Winnie’s brisk pace as she headed out of the forest. “Oh? The troupe is still performing? I thought you’d halted the cirque to coordinate Grimm’s rebellion leaders.”

Winnie’s magic bent stray branches out of their path. “We thought it best to perform along the way. Chresedia is no dolt. She might still be trapped in the Liminal Place where Grimm left her, but I doubt she will be for long, and he didn’t trap her Acolytes or spies.” She looked over her shoulder at Seleste as they broke from the treeline, the busy Druid camp coming into view. “She’ll come for any of us that she can.”

“Wouldn’t it then be a better idea not to announce your whereabouts with a boisterous cirque?”

Reaching a huddle of men and women encircling a fire, Winnie weaved through the camp, leading Seleste toward the far corner. “No. We’re doing what we’ve always done, even when she was travelling with us. It’s less conspicuous than halting the cirque.”

She paused in front of a heavily guarded tent and Seleste watched her with that unnerving discernment. “If she arrives during a performance, there will be civilians.”

Winnie stared back at her Sister Summer, letting Seleste’s cunning do its work. She gasped and Winnie knew she’d landed on it.

“Laurent expects her to find the troupe.”

“Yes,” Winnie said simply.

“I don’t like this at all, Sister.”

“No, and neither did Aggie.”

“She approved this?” Seleste was almost shouting, three tent guards shifting on their feet.

“Laurent knows Chresedia. The rest of us often forget that.” Winnie put a hand to her chest. “Myself included. I’ve blocked her out. I thought for so long that he chose his magic, his restoration over me, and she was his drug to do so. After I left, she travelled with this troupe for many years. She has a soft spot for Lau. She always returns eventually, and he suspects after their encounter at Glacé Manor, she will make a point to do so soon.”

Winnie had never seen Seleste so furious. “And what will the two of you do?” She threw her hands in the air and venom into her words. “Let her harm your troupe? The mortals?” she shouted. “Is this why he’s been training the Druids so hard?”

“Seleste.” Winnie kept her voice as even as possible. “Calm down.”

The words were a mistake. Every witch knows you never tell a woman to calm down.

Seleste’s eyes went wide with fury, her magic radiating in bright rays of sunshine around her until she looked like a starburst. Tomás came out of the tent then, drawn by the light and shouting. “You,” Seleste growled, pointing to him, “get the Cirque Master.” He looked to Winnie and Seleste snapped, “Now!”

Winnie nodded almost imperceptibly and Tomás took off at a run. Eleanor came out of the tent to see what the commotion was. Her presence dimmed Seleste’s magic, if only slightly. She wouldn’t want her great-niece to see her so angry.

The young half-witch looked between the two Sisters. “What’s going on here?”

Pushing the question aside, Winnie redirected the conversation before it could begin. “Are the wards in place?”

Eleanor pushed the hair that had come loose from her braid back from her face. “They’re up. One set around the quill and one set around the tent.” She scrunched her nose. “I did them the way you taught me, but I would suggest taking a look for yourself. Just in case.”

“Of course.” Winnie risked a glance at Seleste, who was no longer radiating furious light, but her lips were still in a thin line.

Laurent strolled over, the perfect picture of ease. “Ladies, ladies.” He nodded to each of them. “What seems to be the trouble here?”

Winnie clamped her mouth shut. She was growing increasingly accustomed to letting her Sisters speak and act for themselves without her interference. Eleanor, she struggled with—call it her lingering maternal instinct—but she would sit back and watch how Seleste handled her concerns. In truth, she was rather proud of her Sister Summer’s outburst. It was uncharacteristic, and it left Winnie with more than a little curiosity.

Seleste did not disappoint. She stood to her full height, which was taller than Winnie but still unimpressive against Laurent’s. Winnie watched his lips twitch, but he remained still as Seleste howled, “How could you continue to draw in crowds and make a spectacle when you were tasked with protecting the quill? It is irresponsible, childish, insolent…” She ticked them all off on her elegant fingers. “Have you not considered what could happen to the mortals in attendance if Chresedia or her Acolytes show up during a performance?”

When her tirade was finished, Laurent licked his lips, arms crossed and feet planted firmly. “All due respect, Seleste, but I know Chresedia, remember? She travelled with us. She lived with us. She even sang on stage with me.”

Winnie murmured vile things under her breath just shy of cursing.

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