Page 63 of Summer of Sacrifice

To answer correctly, she needed to discern where this particular earl stood. Cal had made little mention of religion in the traditional sense. His only commentary was in their debates on the subject when he always played both sides for the sake of argument. Goddess, she loved that about him, too.

None of the family had left Whitehall to go to a Sanctuary in the nearest town on Atonement Day. There was no Book of Scriptures at the earl’s bedside. No mage had come to pray with the earl while he was sick…

Finally, she had her carefully crafted answer. “Religion is found by an individual. It is not taught from a book.” She left out her belief that religion was a poor term for spirituality by half, and her idea that one’s theology should be as unique to an individual as they are to the rest of the populace.

There was a moment of silence between them, but Seleste was proud of her response, and she would stand by it. At last, the earl smiled, his tired eyes crinkling at the corners. “I agree. Very well. You have two moons left of the Summer to teach my girls what they need to know to beat the intellectual snot out of any boy their age.”

Seleste laughed. “Yes, my lord.” She rose to take her leave, but a thought struck her. “I…do also know how to teach them to beat the actual snot out of any boy their age…”

A look of pure shock crossed the earl’s features before he roared with laughter. “Yes! Then teach them that, too.”

Chapter

Thirteen

SELESTE

“This is a bad idea.”

Sorscha rolled her eyes. “You say that about everythingggg.”

“Why are you even here?” Gaius shot back.

“She’s my Sister.”

“Seleste asked for my help, and Arielle’s. You’re just in the way.”

“Well fuckity-fuck you,” Sorscha sang, waggling a finger in Gaius’ face.

“All right, all right. That’s enough, you two,” Seleste finally broke in. Though their banter was rather amusing to watch. Judging by the curve of Arielle’s lips, she was enjoying it as well. “I don’t have a lot of time, so let’s get on with this.”

Sorscha bared her teeth at Gaius and snapped them together like a rabid dog before retreating to curl onto a stool in the corner. Arielle came up beside Gaius where he sat at his worktable, setting the vial of blood in the middle.

“Now what?” he asked, looking up at Arielle and Seleste simultaneously.

“If I locate the blood that is not Laurent’s,” Arielle began, “can you separate it?”

Gaius’ responding laugh held no humour. “How would I do that?”

“The blood was essentially alchemised to give Laurent some of Chresedia’s power,” Seleste answered. “At least, that’s how we understand it. Her blood mingled with his via twin cuts on their forearms, then she used magic to combine hers with Laurent’s. All this to seemingly give him her power.”

Sorscha snorted from her perch. “Worked out great.”

“She gave him a string of her power, sure,” Seleste continued, “but it was slowly killing him.”

Arielle’s mouth quirked to the side in thought. “That makes sense. What I sense is sinister.”

“It’s safe to assume, as a goddess, she had some measure of power when she left The Void, but she’s been stealing magic from others for who knows how long. Somewhere along the line, it seems it has become warped.”

“Like the horrid reanimated corpses Grimm saw in the Liminal Place,” Arielle said quietly.

“If the powers were mingled by magic,” Seleste said, the others listening intently, “then it can be separated in a similar fashion.”

“Why didn’t that happen when Winnie healed Laurent’s magic?” Sorscha cut in.

Seleste considered that for a moment. “Winnie healed his magic, which broke whatever spell Chresedia had on him, but I don’t believe it cut the tie between them, or her blood wouldn’t still be detected in his.”

It was not a comforting thought. No wonder Laurent claimed he was unafraid to be a beacon for Chresedia—he’d already been one for a very long time. Maybe, just maybe, if she added the proper ingredients to her spell, Seleste could break the tie between them. That would have to wait, though.

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