Ostara’s slap resounded like a thunderclap against Persi’s cheek, and Persi staggered. A collective gasp ran around the room, followed swiftly by Davina’s bark of “Steady on, old girl!” and Xiomara’s booming, “Ostara Claire, you forget yourself!”
All the angry color drained from Ostara’s cheeks as she looked down in horror at her hand, as though it had betrayed her somehow, as though the blow hadn’t been her at all.
Both my mom and Rhi had leapt to their feet, and my mom actually started toward Ostara, but to my surprise it was Persi who held her back.
“Don’t give her the satisfaction, Kerridwen,” she said, still looking at Ostara with a furious spark in her eye, and a smirk of satisfaction on her lips. “Well, well. I seem to have touched a nerve.” She tossed her head, flinging her masses of black hair back from her face, to reveal an angry pink handprint blooming across her cheekbone. “Is this the leadership we can expect in Sedgwick Cove from this point on?”
“I didn’t… I never meant to…” Ostara’s words tumbled over each other as she struggled to distance herself from her own actions.
“Oh, I see. An accidental slap to the face, was it? Oopsie-daisy,” Persi said scathingly. “And in front of two police officers, too. You’re lucky I don’t like paperwork, or I’d be pressing charges.”
In the corner of the room, Maeve and her fellow officer shifted uncomfortably. It couldn’t have been more obvious from their faces thatthere were several kinds of torture they’d cheerfully undergo, rather than have to arrest the head of the Conclave.
“You haven’t had half the slaps you’ve earned, Persephone Vesper, and that’s the truth,” came Lydian’s wheezy cackle. “Ostara, you should know better than to let her goad you like that, foolish girl. Too proud by half and not nearly as cool as you like to appear.”
Ostara’s nostrils flared, but she said nothing. Only a woman as old as Lydian could call Ostara Claire a “foolish girl” and make her feel like one.
“Let’s move on. I propose the book be examined under the most carefully controlled of magical conditions,” Xiomara said. “And I propose that the Vesper coven be a central part of that investigation. If we work together, we can ensure that everyone trusts the results.”
“A fine idea,” Davina said heartily, looking relieved that we’d finally arrived at a civilized discussion again.
“Ostara?” Xiomara asked, pointedly.
Ostara’s face was twisted, her mouth pinched up as she choked down what I was sure must have been a very bitter pill. But choke it down she did, and when she spoke, her face relaxed again into her usual haughty indifference. “As you say,” was all she would reply, but it was enough of a concession.
“In order for those conditions to be met, and to keep everyone safe in the process, we will need to remove the book from Lightkeep Cottage. I will not agree to this unless all the Vespers agree as well,” Xiomara went on.
Ostara’s posture stiffened again, but she didn’t argue. Persi stared right at her, her eyes glittering with suppressed glee.
“I agree,” Persi said, “as long as we are part of the investigation and, additionally, that we will be informed if the book is to be moved.”
“I also agree,” Rhi said quickly.
“And me,” my mom said.
Xiomara turned to me. “And what about you, Wren? Do you agree?”
I looked around the room, at every pair of eyes now fixed on me. My initial thought was that I didn’t understand why they were asking me. Itwasn’t as though they were going to make this decision based on what a kid thought. But Xiomara noticed my hesitation.
“I did say all the Vespers, Wren. I hope you realize that means you as well. This book was delivered into your hands,mija, and your grandmother helped to place it there. We do not yet know what that means, but I believe it is important. Asteria was my friend, and I will honor her wishes wherever possible. Therefore, we will not make this decision without you.”
I looked around the Conclave—at Ostara’s impassive mask, at Davina’s encouraging nod, at Lydian’s wrinkled toothless smile, and Zadia’s stoic calm—and then back at Xiomara. Asteria trusted these women. She trusted Sedgwick Cove and the community she had always had here. If she needed help, these were the women she would have turned to. So, I would trust Asteria and turn to them as well. Because more than ever, I needed help.
“Okay. I agree,” I said, “but I have a condition as well.”
There was what might have been a skeptical snort from the direction of Ostara, but I ignored it. This was important.
“And that condition is?” Xiomara asked.
“That if I get another message from Asteria, and that message concerns the book, we will act in accordance with it, even if that means removing it from whatever this protective setting is, even if it means bringing it back to Lightkeep and even—” here, I paused, taking a breath—“even if it means using the magic inside it.”
I could tell Ostara wanted to object. Every cell in her body seemed to have turned to stone, with the exception of her eyes, which were aglow with rapidly firing thoughts. I knew there was a battle raging there, a weighing and measuring and considering and, yes, even scheming. Finally, though, she made a movement that was part nod, part indifferent shrug.
“Very well,” she said coldly, “but know that if any harm comes to Sedgwick Cove at the hands of that book, I will be holding you personally responsible, and the consequences will be your own to bear. I wash my hands of it.”
Beside me, I felt my mother stiffen. Ostara was looking at me, not any of the other Vespers. I placed a hand lightly on top of my mom’s to prevent her from jumping in, and replied. “I understand.”
“Do you?”
