Page 91 of The Daughters of Avalon
Like a woman in the throes of pleasure, the book trembled. But, after a moment, a burst of smoke blew from its pages, as though it were expiring the dust of ages. Then, as soon as it allowed, Arwyn opened the Book of Secrets, turning the pages until she found the proper spell.
Ready for her part, Rosalynde lifted the candle as Arwyn shoved thegrimoirein her direction.
“Art certain, Rose?’
“As certain as I shall ever be.”
Arwyn nodded sadly. “I will miss you.”
“Not for long,” Rosalynde promised. Because the very instant she could, she would return for her dear, sweet twin. In the meantime, she knew in her heart of hearts that this was the best recourse. “Do everything she says,” Rosalynde directed. “Everything she says! Youmustreassure her that you tried to prevent me from leaving and that you knew naught of my plans.”
Arwyn nodded, her violet blue eyes full of fear, because it would seem an impossible task. Of all their siblings, the twins were closest of all. There was hardly a thing that one knew that the other did not… and yet…
“Youmustconvince Morwen of your fury! Be heronedevoted daughter. Curse my name, if you must.”
“Don’t worry. I will,” Arwyn promised, and knowing that time was growing short, Rosalynde peered down at the sacred words on the vellum—words she had by now memorized— and held the candle aloft, setting one hand atop the spell book as she stared into the flame.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Ready,” Arwyn said, and Rosalynde spoke the words.
Blessed flame, shining bright,
Aid me well in my flight.
Unveil to all another self,
Change the book I touch, itself.
Power of three, let them see, let them see, let them see.
Power of three, let them see, let them see, let them see.
Power of three, let them…
Arwyn gasped. “Oh, my!” she said, and Rosalynde at once plucked the small mirror from the pocket of her gown, gasping as well.
Her face… it was, indeed changed.
According to the grimoire, aglamourspell worked best—and for longer—if it didn’t have to work so hard to conceal one’s true nature; therefore, she’d only used a bit of thephilter.
Evidently, it was enough. The smooth skin of her face had given way, not so much to the leathery lines of an old hag’s, but certainly to a woman’s whose features had been subjected to much abuse—a broken nose, too much sun. Instead of golden-red, her hair was dark as sable. Her smattering of freckles gone, and her skin pale as parchment, though splotched, her nose too big for her face, her eyes no longer blue. They were green as a forest glade, but now they resembled her sister Rhiannon’s. Alas, even on her lovely sister, those wandering eyes had the uncanny effect of compelling men to cross themselves at a glance.
So now it was time to go.
She was ready.
Tears pooled in Rosalynde’s eyes, but before she could allow her emotions to run amok and turn her from her task, she laid down the mirror and scooped up thegrimoire.
Resolved, she gave Arwyn a kiss goodbye, and said, “May the Goddess love and keep you.”
Arwyn’s voice broke. “And you, Rosalynde.” She thrust their mother’s heavy cloak into Rosalynde’s arms, and Rosalynde nearly thrust it back. “Take it. You will need it. Go now, and don’t look back.”
Already, Seren had been gone from their apartments more than twenty minutes. Fearing for a moment that it might be the last time she ever saw her twin, she lingered, giving Arwyn one last kiss and hug.
Arwyn shook her gently. “Go!” she demanded, and Rosalynde found her strength, wrenching herself away, tossing her mother’s cloak over her shoulders. With her heart hammering in fear, she opened the door to their chamber, inclining her head to the floor as she slid into the hall, holding thegrimoireclose to her breast.
Chapter
