“And you didn’t. Still guarding the Nest, Ceri?”
The moment the words were out of her mouth, Rhiannon wished them back. Ceridwen’s smile was rueful.
“Someone has to.”
Well, they were even. One a piece. Slap for slap. In their moments of closeness they still held to their anger, at the world, at each other.
Rhiannon turned to leave, the morning getting away from her as it was. She had people to see, things to do. Trading blows with her sister had never been a worthwhile activity.
“Prudence tells me you’re doing a good job with her.”
She watched Ceridwen load the ammunition in her reply, braced herself for it, and was still not ready when it arrived.
“I wish you would be doing a better job with Prudence.”
Rhiannon immediately knew Ceridwen was not speaking of the craft.
“Is this the segue from you knowing her better than me, knowing her longer? Ask what you want to ask me, Ceridwen. Either have the ovaries to tell me you want her for yourself, or that you think I’m not good enough for her. So which one is it?”
Ceridwen’s sad tiny smile did nothing to calm Rhiannon’s desire to strangle her sister.
“I can’t want her, Rhiannon. She’s not for me, and you know it.”
“Can’t and won’t are not the same.”
“No, they aren’t.”
“What kind of answer is that, Ceridwen?”
Her sister finally turned away from her and went back to her seedlings that instantly reached for her, their little leaves dancing merrily.
“The only one you’re going to get. And as for you not being good for her? Well, are you?”
Ceridwen’s questions rang in Rhiannon’s head along with another vicious headache all the way back to the Atelier.
18
PRUDENCE, CHRYSANTHEMUMS & STAYING
CROW’S NEST HALLOWEEN FEST FUNDING IN DANGER!
Town’s Council voted NO on the proposal to fund the Halloween celebration in Crow’s Nest, citing scarcity of the current budget. Our sources claim the debates ran deep into the night and focused on pagan connotations of the festival and how they encroach on religious freedoms of some of the Crow’s citizens.
Mayor Fowler was unavailable for a comment.
Watch this space, and watch the town hall.
—Crow’s Caw
“I can’t believe this!”Pru was afraid to raise her voice, she was afraid to move, she was afraid to breathe. In her hands a chrysanthemum flower bloomed. One that had been closed and dormant, not yet ready to show its face. And now, in her joined palms, bright and joyful, the yellow catching the last rays ofthe evening sun, the petals were unfurled and moving with the gentle ocean breeze.
“You did it!” Next to her Ceridwen’s smile was soft and proud.
They had been working when time allowed, folding the lessons in between busy touristy days on the island and Pru reading everything she could get her hands on about the craft.
“And the organized cults?”
“We don’t judge, Prudence. I mean, we do, as some of them are deeply harmful. As long as there has been magic, there have been groups of people who wanted it, desired it, appropriated it, and manipulated it. But not all of them are evil and not all of them are destroying the world.” Ceridwen sipped her chamomile tea and gestured around her, looking like royalty indulging in a quiet afternoon.
