Page 60 of Witches and Wine
“What? This place doesn’t look homey enough to qualify as an abode?” The shorter witch asked, amusement bouncing in her tone.
I shot up, my hands erratically waving in front of me. “I meant absolutely no disrespect. I assumed from the lack of beds and?—”
They both laughed, the taller one wiping a tear from her eye.
“Thank you, Chelsea,” the taller one said, still chuckling. “We needed a good laugh.”
Not knowing what to do with my hands, I folded them behind my back. “You’re welcome. I think?”
The shorter one stepped forward with an outstretched hand and a warm smile. “My name is Amara, and this is my sister, Brigid.”
After shaking both their hands and feeling each of their magic wrap around me in a comforting embrace, I knew this was a safe space. The tension melted away, replaced by curiosity, wonder, and a sudden eagerness to learn.
“Come, sit,” Brigid encouraged, pulling out a chair. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions, and we have a few for you as well. Amara, would you mind?” She pointed at the ceiling.
Amara flickered her fingers, vibrant tendrils of orange spiraling toward the chandelier and lighting the candles. Once satisfied, she sat at the table.
“I do have a lot of questions, but I’m honestly not sure where to start,” I answered, resting my hands on the table to keep from fidgeting.
“Let us start with one, then, to pave the way.” Amara scanned my hair. “How long have you known you’re a witch?”
Fear wrenched my spine because I wasn’t sure I wanted to admit it. I dropped my gaze to my palms, and my knee bounced beneath the table, making it vibrate.
Brigid’s attention darted straight to it, and she tilted her head. “You have no reason to fear us, Chelsea. There are no right or wrong answers here. We’re merely curious about the extent of your magic.”
“The truth is—” I found the courage to look them in the eye. “I’ve only known for several days. I moved to Arcane CovebeforeI knew I had magic. I had no idea this place was magical, but something lured me here.”
“Your mate, perhaps?” Amara suggested, glancing at her sister, who nodded. “And maybe even us as well.”
The questions became clearer now, and I scooted forward on my seat. “The High Priestess told me I was a moon witch. Are all witches categorized like this?”
The sisters grinned at each other, this news exciting them.
“A moon witch. We couldn’t have asked for anything more fitting. But yes, to answer your question. I’m a green witch, while Amara here—” Brigid rested a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “—is a sun witch.”
My chest tightened, and I gripped my mother’s pentagram charm.
“My mother, she, too, was a sun witch.” I slouched, sadness seeping its way in.
“Was?” Amara asked, frowning and reaching a hand across the table to rest on top of mine. “When did you lose her?”
I didn’t pull away from Amara’s touch but welcomed it. While it wasn’t grounding like Dion’s, it still gave a different kind of comfort, one that my sister Elani could always provide. “I was a small child, and I never knew she was a witch.”
“Fate is such a mysterious vixen, isn’t she?” Brigid rested her chin on her hand. “Would you care to try a spell with us? I have no doubt our connection of three will be strong, but it never hurts to test it.”
Those nerves were at it again, and this time, they made my throat dry. “Could you tell me her name first?”
They both arched their brows.
“The sister you lost. If I’m to replace her potentially, I think it only respectful to know that much about her.”
Amara sniffled as if holding back tears, and through a cracked voice, she answered, “Sage. She’d been our third for nearly a century.”
A century? I didn’t want to be rude and focus on that particular piece of information, but the ages of these women quickly elicited a raging curiosity.
“Again, I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”
Brigid stared at the table with a fixed gaze, like she was recalling a memory. “She was a very talented forest witch and a bright light in the darkness.”
