From one angle, I want to smirk—it was a rather silly moment that involved trying to steal a dried flower hanging in the rafters of my aunt’s house, only for me to topple headfirst into the fireplace and come outcovered in soot. Instead of swooning over my attempt at romance, as I’d hoped, the girl had laughed at me.
But even as I remember it, grief punctures holes in the story. I remember my aunt’s house. Liesel’s mother.
I remember it standing empty, bodies littered at my feet in the wake of Dieter’s attack.
With a hard shake of my head, I drop my eyes from Hilde and straighten my already straight robe. “Can you see if Cornelia is ready for me yet?”
Hilde pats my arm, misreading my shift for nerves. “Of course. You’ll do great.”
She ducks into the cove, and for a moment, I’m alone.
Birds chirp somewhere overhead. The sounds of the Well are more distant, the bulk of the hidden city farther back, but I can imagine the bustle of day-to-day life, makers selling wares and people working looms and lessons underway. Liesel and all the other school-age children are missing more lessons for the upcoming ceremony; she was all too thrilled about that.
These normal thoughts serve as enough of a distraction that when Cornelia dips out in front of me, I’m able to square my shoulders without hesitation.
“Ready?” she asks.
I nod.
She slides away, and after a beat, I follow her in.
A path is laid out for me through the bathing area where two rows of women create a funnel to guide me toward the pool. At the edge, ankle-deep on a stone that lets them stand just within the water, are Liesel and Hilde, with Cornelia joining them.
If any of the women lining this path raises an eyebrow at a non-witchbeing part of this purification ceremony, they don’t show it. With Hilde’s help creating the bonding potion, watching over it as it brewed, and her relationship with Brigitta, she’s become an honorary member of the Well.
The headache I can’t seem to get rid of thuds behind my eyes, and I fight a wince as I step down alongside them, the cool, clear water lapping at my bare feet.
Will any amount of cleansing spells ready me?
I can pretend all I like for the council. Play the part, obey their rules and traditions, make it look as though, when I use magic, I am doing so through casting spells and harnessing ingredients. But it’s a lie, all of it, and I have done far worse than that.
Holda chose me to do this; Otto eagerly fell into his role as my warrior. But I know, after this ceremony and the bonding one tomorrow morning, that I will be forced to the front of Holda’s crusade. It will fall on me to convince the council—well, to convince Rochus and Philomena—that wild magic is no different than the magic they painstakingly protect in the Origin Tree. That the limitations we put on witches on how to use our power are unnecessary and harmful. That our entire way of life is a lie, and we should undo the very systems they’ve upheld for decades, and—
I drop the robe before I sink down into the bathing pool, and the shock of the chilly water silences my inner turmoil. The thin white shift I’m wearing billows up around me, dispersing herbs that bob across the surface of the pool, and with the nearby glow of candlelight and the soft, steadying presence of all the women behind me, it is, for a moment, peaceful.
I did not choose you idly, Friederike, Holda tells me.
My muscles go slack, and I lean against the edge of the pool, head and shoulders out of the water, my back to all the people in this cove.
So you chose my brother with the same careful intent?I can’t help but snap. He had been her champion before me.
She goes silent.
The grotto fills with the velvety murmurs of chanting. The voices of the women rise around me, swelling high in a gentle litany. A spell. A prayer.
Water sloshes as Cornelia, Liesel, and Hilde kneel behind me.
After him, Holda says,I made sure I did not choose incorrectly again.
I don’t respond.
Fingers tug at my head, tipping my face up to the high blue sky above. The murmured words catch, gain in volume:
“Water to wash. Plants to grow. Smoke to carry. Fire to ignite.”
You may not believe it, Friederike, says Holda.But you are the most suited to this task. I will not downplay the size of it, nor what I ask of you. I know I demand too much. But I will be at your side through every moment. I will not abandon you.
I almost reply with an observation of how much good her allegiance did me when Dieter ripped me out of the Well and had me chained at his mercy in Baden-Baden. I almost respond with how much good the favor of a goddess does against potent cruelty.
