Page 53 of Summer of Sacrifice

“How is your task coming, ma choupette?” Dulci broke into Seleste’s thoughts. “Have you deciphered the location for the eclipse?”

She’d not told the others of Laurent’s blood, or what she planned to do with it. It wasn’t so much that she wanted to keep it a secret, so much as she hadn’t yet decided exactly which spell she would use, and wasn’t prepared to face the inevitable disapproval. Blood magic was decidedly forbidden amongst witches. And the spellbook she had been most looking into was decidedly…controversial.

Sister Summer looked down at all her scribbles, particularly the one she’d absently doodled in the corner as she was deep in thought. The initials she always drew when she was lost within her mind, poring over complicated matters.

Blinking to clear the memories before they could come, she turned to Dulci with a smile. “I think I almost have it. I’ve been cross-checking it with the star map, and I’ve narrowed the location down to Eridon. It’s a small country, but plenty large enough to need a more precise location. I’ll need to keep working.”

Something was still gnawing at Seleste about the location, though. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what.

Augustus came up behind Anne, momentarily abandoning his post at the door to snag a bite of cheese and peck his lover on her forehead. Anne smiled, her cheeks blushing prettily, and Augustus addressed the group at large. “Wish I could’ve seen the catacombs…” His boyish grin warmed Seleste’s heart as much as Anne’s girlish one did. “All those old relics? What a treasure trove. Have they proven to be anything special?”

Everyone looked to Seleste, who shook her head. “Asa and Lena have scoured the catacombs with Arielle using her gift, but nothing seems to be overly significant. We think my mother was simply collecting belongings of mages who passed on, most likely at Chresedia’s hand.”

The group soon began to chat animatedly about Arielle’s remarkable ability to sense fragments of people in objects. Seleste listened quietly, idly running her finger over the initials etched into the corner of her parchment.

Seleste, Then

SELESTE

Tink.

With a start, Seleste looked up from her notes toward the window. Goddess, the moon was already high in the night sky, its pink glow the only light in her room aside from the golden orb of magic she’d conjured hours ago when the sun began to set.

Tink…tink.

“What in Hades?” She rose from her hunched position on the bed, her back smarting at the first movement in too long. Striding to the window, she pulled the yellow curtains further open. Peering out into the night, she saw nothing of note at first. Then—tink—a tiny pebble hit the glass right in front of her face. She threw open the window and bent out. “Cal,” she whispered before she had even leaned far enough to see his face.

He gave her a bemused grin, looking up at her from the lush, grassy lawn. “How did you know it was me down here?” He shook his head. “Never mind, just come down. I have to know what you’ve deciphered with the code!” The note of excitement in his tone was unmistakable.

“It’s the middle of the night!”

“Who cares?” That grin of his was becoming more and more regular, and it made her knees weak. “Come down!”

With little regard for what the others in the house might make of it if she were caught, Seleste dashed from the window, slipping her feet into her shoes and the decoded letter into her pocket. With a heady bounce in her step, she made her way out of her room and down the hall, grateful she hadn’t yet changed into her nightclothes. It would have been a great inconvenience to her excitement, had she been forced to halt and change clothes. She might have even second-guessed the whim that had a hold on her. And she did not want to second-guess this.

Tip-toeing through the house, Whitehall suddenly felt impossibly large, as if she’d never make it to the back gardens. It had grown in the way time and space do when what you want sits firmly on the other side of it. At last, Seleste reached the back door and turned the key, opening it to find Cal sitting on the step, drumming his fingers impatiently. As if, perhaps, time had drawn out like dripping honey for him, too, as he’d waited for her to come down.

The moment he saw her, he stood, brushing dirt from his pants. “Well?” The moonlight shining in his eyes magnified the enthusiasm glowing there. “You solved it, didn’t you?”

Her heart gave a little tumble at his confidence in her, despite knowing relatively nothing about her. “I did,” she beamed. “Save for one line that I was working on when you arrived at my window.” Her elation at present was two-fold, and she feared her cheeks would begin to hurt for how wide she was smiling.

“One line…” he mused, his eyes playfully narrowed. “Is the letter a missive?”

“Close,” she teased, “but not quite.”

“A personal letter?” Cal was nearly giddy and Seleste couldn’t help but giggle.

“A love letter,” she confirmed and he looked like a child in a confection shop.

“And you can translate it? From the old language?”

Seleste preened. “I already have.”

“Save for the one line?”

“Save for the one line.”

“Did you bring it down? Tell me you have it with you.”

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