“I’m here now, my miracle girl, I’m here.” Her mum’s voice is a rasp. “No one’s going to hurt you now. I’ll protect you.”
Astrid doesn’t bother correcting her. She just holds on tight, savoring the familiarity of her mother’s strong arms, the comforting smell of leather and beeswax.
“I’m so sorry about Jessa.” Her mum strokes down her spine. “She was family,” her mum adds, voice cracking, which makes Astrid squeeze tighter. Bjorn’s wet nose presses against Astrid’s cheek, and she strokes his snout. Her mum rises, pulling Astrid up with her, opening her mouth to say something, but then stops, her eyes drifting to a spot over Astrid’s shoulder.
“In the name of Nyx…” She trails off, and Astrid turns to see what she’s looking at.
Bastet prowls onto the boat, the light of the sun rippling over his deep blue-black fur as he moves. His wings are flared behind him, the feathers shining like an oil slick, purple, blue, and green. Seeing him like this, Astrid understands why her mum has been struck dumb.
“Astrid, I… What happened? Is that… Bastet?”
“Yes, it is.” Astrid rubs a hand down his neck as he stops beside her.
The queen shakes her head, the disbelief evident in every line of her face. “I have never heard of the metamorphosis of a familiar before. This is, well, it’s impossible.”
NOT IMPOSSIBLE,Bastet replies,GIVENISTAND BEFORE YOU NOW.
“Did you know,” Gwen asks, “that you could change?”
Astrid asked him the same question the night Jessa died, barely able to look at him as she did.
IDID NOT KNOW,he said. IAM NOT SURE WHAT HAPPENED.IFELT TOO MUCH TOO QUICKLY, FELT A POWER TOO GREAT FOR THAT SMALL BODY TO CONTAIN, AND THEN—THIS.
It was a relief to hear him admit he was ignorant of his ability to transform, despite how selfish that made her. She didn’t want secrets between them. In turn, she told him about her Gift—when she was able to speak, that was. In the moments the grief and anger subsided enough to allow her other thoughts some space.
“Astonishing.” Her mum is still shaking her head. “And can you change back? Is this your Gift?”
Bastet cocks his head. AGOOD QUESTION.IHAVE NOT TRIED.Astrid stands up a little straighter. She didn’t think it was a possibility, merely assumed this was his permanent form now.
“Maybe not here.” Astrid looks back at the crowd, which is now dispersing, but her mother interrupts.
“I’d like to see,” she says. “It doesn’t matter if anyone is watching. If he can do it, it’ll be more testament to his power.”
Bastet waits for Astrid to agree, and when she nods, he dips his head in acquiescence before closing his eyes, muzzle wrinkling in concentration. Astrid feels the tether with Bastet extend and flex, feels the weight of it within her as it oscillates, side to side like a pendulum, knocking her off-kilter, until a bright light bursts across the boat, and in place of the panther sits a small black cat.
Bastet transforms again, then back once more into a cat.
BLESS MY TETHER, grumbles Bjorn. THAT IS QUITE THE GIFT.
“Indeed,” says her mum. Her face is alight with something at odds with the darkness that resides inside Astrid. “And your Gift, my miracle girl?”
She bristles, unsure why she’s annoyed with her mother. Perhaps it’s because she can still see the boat in the distance, the plumes of smoke rising above it. Or perhaps it’s because her mum has barely given space to Jessa’s death and instead is more intent on Bastet’s and Astrid’s Gifts. She almost refuses to answer, then chides herself for being petty. “I’m an Amplifier.”
Bastet growls in approval.
“I realized at the Masked Ball. Turns out I’m the only personZryan can Teleport with,” she admits, and she doesn’t miss the sharp look between the queen and the bear. She decides not to tell her mum about amplifying Skylar at the beach or that she’s disappointed in her Gift. Disappointed, because she will only ever be able to make others more powerful, never herself.
Her mum must hear it in her voice, though, because she grips Astrid’s shoulders and says, “You’re no ordinary Amplifier. If you enhanced a Blooded power, and a Prime’s at that, you must have a powerful Gift. Imagine what you could do to another witch. What you’ll be able to do for the efforts to stop the Blight.” Pride shines in her mum’s eyes.
“That’s what Bastet said.” Astrid smiles weakly at him. He told her how a Gift like hers could help Arturea, could save thousands of lives. Told her Jessa would have been proud of her. Astrid takes a gasping breath. “It didn’t help Jess, though.”
Useless.She pushes the intrusive thought out.
“No, it didn’t,” her mum says. “But it can help you. This”—she gestures to Bastet, to her—“it all means something. It’s a sign, I’m sure of it.”
“A sign of what, though?”
“You think it is mere coincidence that the last heir of the Arturean witches should find herself bonded to the same kind of familiar as King Nyx? That same familiar that flew the king into battle against the Vatran dragons and won glory for our queendom?” An image of a lustrous tapestry pops into Astrid’s mind. The one that apparently contains some truth she’s looking for. Maybe her mum is right: maybe it does mean something, and she is trying to care; it’s just, she’s so damn tired. It’s not helping that she can still see that burning boat.
