Odette nods.
“That’s mad.”
“Maybe so.”
Claudia’s jaw drops. “You don’t care because he’s not after you anymore. You’re not afraid of his freedom because you know he doesn’t want you the way he wants me.”
“And do you want him, too?”
“Of course not. I want Cassius.”
Odette shrugs. “Who’s to say you don’t want both?”
“I don’t,” she bites back, reaching for Cassius’s hand. She looks up at him. “I promise. I don’t.”
“Then prove it. Set Sidarphion free and let the god go,” Odette urges. “He’s only tied to you so long as the bargain remains unfinished.”
“What makes you so confident we can kill Triche? He’s over a hundred years old. He caged a god. He’s been killing witches for a century.”
Odette opens her arms to the room. “Look at us. We have everything. Mathematical, floramantic, musical, linguistic, and celestial magic. Plus”—she points at Claudia—“new magic that Triche won’t expect. Stellinguistic.”
“And the element of surprise,” Cassius says.
“But we’re first-years. We’ve barely begun to master the magic of our disciplines,” Alistair says. “We’re not supposed to use magic at all on our own.”
“Don’t act like you haven’t broken that rule a thousand times,” Odette says. “All of us have. That’s why we’re going to win this fight.”
Odette is a convincing rhetorician. Claudia is starting to agree. Why shouldn’t they have faith in themselves? They’ve come this far. Odette and Claudia have already bested Triche’s magic once. They can do it again.
For Cassius, she can do anything.
Alistair shakes his head. “I don’t know if my elementary potions will do much good here.”
“I haven’t learned any offensive mathematical spells,” Angel says.
Claudia looks at Angel and Alistair. “Both of you need to give yourselves more credit. Alis, you’ve made several powerful poultices and tonics. And Angel—remember how you won Alistair’s heart? You formulated the exact chances of your love. You’re even a published mathematician. You both are strong, powerful witches.”
“Exactly,” Odette says excitedly. “We’re far more advanced than most first-years. Claudia and I both trained our celestial magic extensively with Lamour, and Marcherie has had Dolericym’s favor since the very first day.”
Cassius chimes in with, “I’ve been training with Triche since I was a teenager. I’m confident in my linguistic magic.”
“We can take him,” Marcherie says, sitting up straight and gazing at Odette. “But we need to orchestrate a plan. A careful, precise plan in perfect order. We all need to know exactly what everyone is going to do and when they are going to do it so we don’t accidentally hurt one another or lose our footing in the heat of the moment.”
Angel paces the room. “It needs to be like chess. There has to be a strategy.”
“Where do we start?” Claudia asks.
“Start with the end,” Odette answers. “What will be strong enough to kill him?”
The room goes quiet as the six of them think. Alistair crosses the room to a wide dresser in the corner. He opens a drawer and places Bishop gently inside, letting him rest. He turns back to the group and reaches for a loose sheet of paper. Angel peers over his shoulder while he scribbles. Odette flips through the grimoire. Marcherie starts humming quietly to herself while she paces around the couch.
Cassius just stares at Claudia. Unblinking, awestruck. She gives him a quick smile and mouths, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he mouths back.
Her heart warms. Her focus sharpens. Her killer instincts reignite. She turns her attention to the group and says, “Existing magics can’t disrupt the cosmic order of life and death, but it’s possible that stellinguistic magic can.”
Odette perks up, pursing her lips before settling into a devious smile. “It’s the only magic that will be completely foreign to Triche. He won’t know how to deflect it. At the very least, I think it can cage him while we kill him. He may be powerful, but for now, he’s still a man in a mortal body, right?”
