Her mother had been impossibly good at that. She’d seen the queen tell people right to their face that they’d chosen to make a mistake because they would learn from it. And they had been happy to believe her. A good leader knew how to ease someone’s mind, even if that meant twisting it a bit.
“Is having a coven a good thing?” Elissa asked.
Jessamine could see how important the answer was to the other woman. Elissa wanted to believe that a coven would give her something she didn’t currently have. They could be friends, teach her magic, give her power and security beyond what she could even imagine. All the things girls dreamt of.
She squeezed her hands, resolving to help this young woman no matter what the cost. “It’s a very good thing. I think you’re going to like us quite a bit.”
The door to the back room banged open so hard that the birds above their heads all burst into flight.
Jessamine shouted over her shoulder, still on her knees, “Would you stop doing that? Open the door like a gentleman. Don’t slam it open like a bull!”
The shadowy figure in the doorway shot her a glare. Elric was practically bloated with magic. Deep streaks of black marked his cheeks where he’d touched his face while casting the spell, and she could see it writhing underneath his skin like eels in a bucket.
His black gaze turned to Elissa. “Kill one of your birds.”
“E-excuse me?” she stammered.
“Kill one of your birds, or your beloved ends up dying like a common animal.”
“Well, she does appear to be a macaw, so… that’s a long life.” Elissa swallowed hard, and then wilted beneath his unimpressed stare. “Does it matter which bird?”
“Magic always comes with a price. You cast the spell, and you sacrificed magic of your own. Now there needs to be intent to save. Kill the bird that matches that value of the spell. Do you understand me?”
Elissa nodded and slowly stood. She took a while looking up at the birds before she finally reached out her hand for one. A delicate creature landed on her outstretched hand. It was beautiful, with long tail feathers that almost reached the floor. A riot of cool tones, greens, blues, and delicate whites.
Without another word, she went out the door and made her way into the garden. Jessamine could only see her silhouette from this far away, but she knew Elissa was petting the bird and talking to it.
“Is this really necessary?” Jessamine asked, feeling her own heart break just a little. “She loves these birds.”
“She loves the woman she turned into a bird, too.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“You aren’t doing this just to punish her? She must feel bad enough already.”
“If I didn’t need the sacrifice to do this, I wouldn’t take it. My magic comes from death, Jessamine. I have never pretended otherwise.”
She turned her gaze away from the woman in the garden and looked at him. He was otherworldly when he cast spells. He stood taller, stronger, more confident in moments like this. Clearly not a man, but a god.
He was everything she had always wanted to have with her as a child. A protector, someone who wasn’t afraid to do terrible things to make sure that she stayed safe. And yet, in this moment, she feared that wasn’t the right choice.
He stared back at her, and she knew he was sending her a message. She needed to believe him, to know that magic never came easily. It was the cost of being a witch, something she might never understand. She was connected to him as a gravesinger, but not in the same way the rest of the women were. Hewastheir sacrifice. A feast of magic if they fattened him up first, like a prize pig.
Elric’s throat bobbed in a swallow, sympathy in his gaze. “It is done. I will return for her in a moment. I need to help Sybil weave the spell before I can come and talk with her.”
“I’ll be here.”
She waited by herself for a while, standing when Elissa came back inside. The witch’s hands were shaking, but she returned as a different woman. Stronger. More steely in her expression. “Will that suffice?”
“He’s already weaving the spell. He’ll be back in a moment.” Jessamine took the other woman by the elbow and guided her into a chair. “Sit. Drink your tea. It’ll all be over soon.”
“I didn’t think witchcraft would be like this.”
“Neither did I,” she replied with a soft smile. “I was dead when he found me. He tricked me into coming back and then used Sybil to guide me into his service, I suppose.”
“Do you regret it?”
Now, that was something she could answer honestly. Without hesitation, Jessamine replied, “Not a single bit. I am who I am because of what they did. I trust them both with my life, and I’ve seen with my own eyes that they would do anything to protect me.”
“But you are the gravesinger. That is your purpose. They protect you so that you can protect him.”
