Page 28 of Shadowed Summer Sun
“You have done it. And destiny be served,” Agatha spoke, intoning her head toward me.
“A price paid and a Coven grateful,” Maggie said as she bowed briefly.
I held out a hand, stopping the others from doing the same. I took them all in, my Coven, my family, and struggled to speak around the growing lump in my throat.
“Watch over them, Agatha, but know you can call when you need. I will come.” I turned to Maggie. “Keep your daughter safe. Teach her the ways. She will… be important.”
I felt the prophecy deep in my bones as the words left my lips. The Pit wasn’t done, and in time I would call upon her as an ally, pulling her too from a family in the Mortal Realm and calling her into the World of Below.
“Of course. We will heed your words, heed the natural way.” Agatha nodded and turned to her Coven. “Turn over the Earth, cleave out the blemishes, and stoke new life in these places of Death.”
Maggie took a step toward me, brows furrowed. “The Grimoire?”
I held out my hand, pulling the book from the Place Between where it had been shunted. Without touching the rank pages, I directed the tome to Maggie. She removed a scarf decorating her waist, and I placed the foul thing inside.
“What should I do with it?” she asked.
“It cannot come with me, and it cannot fall into the hands of another like Moira. Protect it at all costs. Seek out the Undertaker, count the steps, and bid him hide it. Tell him I sent you.”
Maggie nodded and stepped back to hold her daughter to her hip. I eyed the yellow-haired girl and her two-colored eyes, so similar to Old Betty.
Kneeling before her, I hovered a finger over the blue eye.
“Speak always with purpose.” I moved to the green eye. “Heed the natural cycle.”
The gifts suffused her slight form, and she smiled. I tilted my head, staring deep into her.
“Give me your name.”
The rules of Gods were different than mortals, and a new Agreement must be struck. Maggie’s daughter regarded me, wise beyond her short years, and held my stare momentarily. She squeezed her mother’s hand and finally looked down to the ground.
“Cerridwen Adaire Locke.” Her aquarian eyes met mine once again.
“Thank you, Cerridwen. I will call.” I blinked and gestured toward the house, “But now is the time for play. Go on.”
She scampered off into the Coven House, and Maggie’s tears fell freely. Once my Sister, Margaret, pulled back from me, all too aware that the strings had already been woven, both proud and terrified.
Badb cawed, taking off from my horn and landing on Agatha’s shoulder.
“She will be our messenger, able to come and go from the realms. I will see everything she sees but may not always be able to intervene.”
Agatha stroked down Badb’s feathers, “She will be fed and loved. I will send her back to you only when necessary. Be well, my Queen.”
I swallowed hard. “Be well, Agatha. Be well, Siblings.”
The Coven clasped hands and stood proud before me. The song in their blood hummed with gratitude and respect. Lowering my head to them, I whisked myself away, back to the forest.
The Pit still clung to The Simple Bridge, the heat of the boards stinging the soles of my feet as I crossed. It would likely be forever a gateway in need of keeping. Deeper into the trees, I was guided yet again to the Crying House, Sarah waiting for me within the charred remains and plainly visible now.
“Sarah.”
“A promise you made. A promise you should keep.” Her eyes welled as her form flickered, smoke pouring from the chimney.
“Yes.”
I stretched out my consciousness to the town to the south, calling Father Zachariah Paine to my feet. The man was ripped through space and landed before me, screaming and clutching his crucifix.
“The holy hell! What?! Demons! Demons attack me!” He scrambled backward on the floor, pushing himself up against the wall.
