Hyacinth groaned. “What? Please tell me we don’t have to carry anything else.”
I squinted at her. “You don’t have a deep desire to help me for a reason you can’t quite put a finger on?”
She looked at me like I had two heads. “No. Not all. No offense.”
Relief flowed over me in a wave. “You don’t think I look pretty today?”
“You look fine, I guess. Your tunic is nice. I like your hat. Why are you being weird?”
“I’m just making sure.” The love potion enchantment clearly wasn’t impacting her anymore.
“Do you actually need help with something or was that some sort of theoretical question too?”
I cleared my throat. “I do need help. With carrying something.”
The black-haired witch tensed. “Carrying what?”
“Only the most important part of the entire ritual.”
“You’re joking.”
“Unfortunately, I’m not. The cauldron is in my apothecary. If we all carry it together, it won’t be that bad!”
The witches whined and complained as I corralled them into my shop. The cauldron was heavy, ridiculously so, and Tandor wasn’t around to help me move it this time.
So, five witches would have to do the trick.
We surrounded the cauldron (sans dragon eggs—those were now tucked under the covers in my bed), everyone grasping the bowl with white-knuckled fingers. On the count of three, we heaved, hardly lifting it off the ground.
“Gods! This thing is a fucking boulder!” Hyacinth complained.
I gritted my teeth. My shoulders screamed in protest. “We can do this. Just don’t let go. Let’s move.”
“My hands are going to fall off,” Giada grumbled. “Ouch.”
“Oh hush, we’ll make it. Just keep going. Okay there we go, through the door. Yep—I’ll close that later. Careful, now.”
Grunting and groaning, sweating and swearing, shuffling our feet in tiny, careful steps, we slowly carried the cauldron to the clearing in the woods. My fingertips were blistered and raw by the time we finally dropped the hunk of cast iron onto the leaf-littered ground.
Other witches were in the clearing—some faces familiar, some new. I could feel the magic dripping from them all. Warm, bubbling magic from the witches with an affinity for water. Sharp and hot magic from the witches of the flames. Nurturing magic from the witches more closely tied to nature.
If I closed my eyes and breathed in deep, I could feel remnants of other magic, too. Older magic. Stronger magic.
And when the first of the moons began to rise in the sky, my blood began to simmer. Magic thrummed in the air, tickling my skin, tightening my muscles, hardening my bones.
I braced myself for the night ahead.
CHAPTER 35
Tandor
My arms ached as I rinsed my last goblet, setting it on a towel to dry.
I lost count of how many drinks I served, but it felt like I had given something to every folk in town. And thank the fates for that, because I was almost out of dragon eggshell powder. Luckily, it seemed that everyone had gotten their dose.
And that meant nobody would be prowling after Kizzi tonight.
Well, except for me, of course.
