Rue
Crushed Tourmaline
Orange oil
Coriander
Blood of a weasel
Bone of a raven
“Seleste?” Cal’s raspy voice called out, her orb of light instantly blinking out. She snapped the Grimoire shut, hiding it within the armoire and climbing out, her heart in her throat.
Chapter
Sixteen
SORSCHA
“Iwish Aggie were here.”
Three of the four Sisters sat huddled on Asa’s bed in Araignée. Seleste reached out and squeezed Sorscha’s arm while Winnie smoothed her hair where her head lay against Winnie’s shoulder.
“So do I,” Seleste murmured.
Winnie had summoned Seleste the moment she’d awoken from her bizarre run-in with Chresedia, and they’d translated to meet Sorscha in Araignée.
The Druid troupe—along with Sorscha and Asa—was due to meet at the fair in a fortnight to perform and await Aggie's arrival, but Winnie hadn’t been able to wait that long to see her Sisters. Not after what she’d seen of their mother, or what Laurent had learned.
“I feel like an arse.”
“Hush,” Winnie censured Sorscha gently. “There is no way you could have known all that our mother did, or endured. All four of us had our misgivings and mistrust concerning our mother.”
Until now, Sorscha thought.
“Everyone tried to tell me. Convince me of her love.” Sorscha sniffled, running a wrist under her nose. “Gods, I’ve spent three hundred years hating her.”