Page 83 of Summer of Sacrifice

Winnie’s borrowed head tipped back, laughing. When her attention snapped back to Lorelai, the acrid scent of smoke burned her nose. A thick cloud of it was seeping into the room at Lorelai’s back.

“Tonight, you watched your coven burn. Tonight, you thought you could make me believe your daughters had burned with it.” She stalked closer, Lorelai raising her chin, refusing to move. “You have failed,” she whispered into Lorelai’s face, watching the tears gather and fall as Lorelai ground her teeth. “How long have you and I been at odds? How long have you led the Fourth Order, thinking you’re furthering the work of Lord and Lady Magie de la Nuit, protecting magic from me?” She tutted. “All of your life. Since that day dearest Lord Night came to you. Gave you a goddess quill and told you it was time for the Dark Star. For the Prince of Bone and the Autumn Daughter.”

The smoke came in thick, the heat unbearable. She lashed a hand out, and Lorelai flinched, though barely. But instead of slapping her again, she cupped her cheek tenderly. “Did you know I was there the day you set the prophecy in place in Seagovia with your daughter’s name? And I was there the day your dearest, now-burned Ambrose took the updated version to Eridon dressed as a gôthi.”

Tears spilled in streams down Lorelai’s cheeks, but only fury shone in her eyes.

Winnie’s borrowed face leaned in close, nose to nose. “I am everywhere.”

Lorelai’s chest rose and fell rapidly, but she made no move to flee when they parted.

“Goodbye, Lorelai Joubert. I hope you die knowing that you failed your husband and your daughters.” Still, Lorelai stood straight as an arrow, unflinching. “You even failed your coven, your Fourth Order, and magic.” She took a step back. “I hope you know I will infiltrate the Sisters Solstice again, take your precious Dark Star under my wing.” A smile stretched across her face. “And I will break her.”

With that, Lorelai burst into flames.

Winnie’s borrowed body cackled, watching as Lorelai screamed. As her skin blistered, melted, fell away from the bone. With her jaw visible, it clacked as she said her final words, “Que l’amour soit ce qui nous lie.?*”

When Winnie opened her true eyes, Chresedia was gone.

* May love be what binds us.

Seleste, Then

SELESTE

Cal bit into his orange scone, groaning. “This is delicious.”

Seleste gave a little laugh and wiped the drip of glaze from his bottom lip. “I can’t take all the credit this time. The girls helped.”

She’d been rather unable to concentrate on traditional lessons after the morning’s events, both Cal’s and his mother’s words rolling around in her head. Giving the girls a baking lesson seemed like the best option.

Baking and cooking were therapeutic for her. Whilst embarking upon culinary efforts, the mind is singularly focused, even if it’s being pulled in various directions. A sauce to stir here, a roast to check there, a dough rising too quickly… The tasks at hand were orderly and defined, with a dash of creativity, and they were all moving toward one objective: make a dish. Being in the kitchen helped order her mind and the fragments of information her cunning unearthed in much the same way—many moving parts, sorted into one clear objective.

Baking with two silly young girls, however, had been chaos. All three of them were covered in flour and glaze by the end of the endeavour, and Liza was chasing them out with a rolling pin.

“Mm,” Cal mumbled around another bite. “I will have to blackmail them into making more treats for me, then.”

Seleste laughed. “Spoken like a brother.”

“Speaking of…” He reached for the jar of cucumber water she’d brought him. “Have you heard from your Sisters? You haven’t mentioned them in several days.”

She adored that he’d noticed. That he would ask after her Sisters. Of course, she’d given him only the bare bones of their relationship—four very different Sisters who went very separate ways after the deaths of their parents.

“Sorscha wrote a couple of days ago.” She was careful not to speak too much of letters, even with Cal, considering they did not always arrive by post, but by courier raven. “But I haven’t heard from Aggie or Winnie.” She knew she wouldn’t hear from Winnie, their uptight stickler of a Sister. Nor had she expected to hear from Aggie.

“Is that why you’re so distracted this afternoon?” Of course, he could tell. He was becoming quite versed in her subtleties, reading her with alarming accuracy. “Or is it all that was discussed earlier?”

Seleste stilled. Had he known she was there, eavesdropping on him and his mother?

Cal stood and held out a hand, leading her to the small bench seat beneath his open window. “I know I sounded a bit overdramatic and like I’m digging for a conspiracy.”

She let out a little breath. He only meant the conversation they’d had about his father’s illness. “I don’t think you’re being dramatic. If it were simply a hidden illness, all right, but I agree that some of the other things you’ve mentioned struck me as strange, too. Together, it is minorly alarming.”

Cal nodded, turning Seleste so he could massage her shoulders.

“I can tell you my hypothesis,” she went on after a few moments of silence and a massage that was making her head feel muddled. “But I don’t think you will like it.”

“Give it to me straight, Joubert.”

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