I don’t…I don’t want to be a champion.
I’m not sure I can be.
The sooner you are bonded to Otto, the stronger you will be,saysHolda in a suddenly clipped voice.Do not let anything get in the way of it, Friederike. This is what you need.
No, it’s what our society needs. All the tasks laid before me, the parts I must play, are what our coven needs; what the Well needs; what the council needs.
Cornelia leads me to her cottage, and I go, half-present, half wishing I could glare at Holda.
Is something wrong?I ask.
No, she says too quickly. It’s nothing.
It’ssomething. It’s always something with these goddesses.
But I do want this ceremony, just not in the way Holda means, not even in the way Cornelia foresees.
I just want him. Otto.
All this, all the uncertainty, and as long as I have him, I think, maybe, I can endure whatever is to come.
3
Otto
Despite staying up late and celebrating in the aftermath of the mock battle with the guards, I’m wide awake. I had a pretty good nap in the middle of the day thanks to the spell pouches, and once I was revived, the feasting and drinking had turned raucous. Alois told me that none of them had ever gone down quite so hard as I had, but Brigitta told me privately that few of them had never gotten a speck of the red powder on her. Pretty sure the pride in her face at my taking her down will carry me through the next few days leading up to the actual trial.
I stare at the moon, almost hidden by the new leaves unfurling outside. I can’t sleep, but I dare not move. Fritzi is curled against my body. Her hair splays out on the downy pillow, a halo of gold. I want to tangle my fingers in it, pull her to me. I want to claim her lips, her body. I want to wake her with my love.
But I also want to let her sleep.
Since the end of Advent, things have been peaceful for the most part.Dieter fell for my ploy, drinking a poison that stripped him of his magic and nearly killed him. He is one threat that has been dealt with.
But I know there are a million more.
Fritzi wants to open up the world to wild magic. Which will put her at odds with nearly every person, witch or not, in the world. She has to convince the magical council here at the Well that wild magic isn’t an evil, sacrificial, corrupting influenceandthat they should trust her despite the fact that she’s violated their laws andalreadycast off their restrictive version of magic.
And even if Dieter and the hexenjägers of Trier are gone, it’s not exactly as if the world will embrace witches, no matter what type of magic they use.
I don’t know what the future will hold for her.
I only know that Ihaveto keep her safe.
A low crescent moon hangs on the horizon. We’re high enough up in the trees, in our safe and cozy home nestled among the branches, that I will see the sun rise before my sister, whose cottage is on the ground below. A gentle snow drifts down; the last stray flakes as spring awakens.
It’s been months. I know Fritzi still mourns her brother, but she mourns a version of him that no longer existed, perhaps never did. Her memories of her brother are shadowed; how long did he wear a mask, pretending to be someone he wasn’t, someone she could love?
What an utter fool Dieter was. He was malicious and calculating; he rose in the ranks of the hexenjägers to Kommandant. He had the archbishop of Trier in his pocket. His cruelty was so extreme because of his genius. And yet—what a fool. To see Fritzi, to know her, and to toss away her love.
Hers is not a heart to toy with.
Soon, I shall prove that to her. The bonding ceremony has been used to threaten Fritzi multiple times. Once a witch drinks the bondingpotion with someone, they are irrevocably linked, their powers intermingling. It requires absolute trust, something Fritzi did not share with the council when they tried to force her to commit a binding and sever the Well’s magic with the world, and something she especially did not feel for Dieter, her brother, when he tried to use the spell to steal her magic.
But she trusts me. She loves me. And soon, we will magically bind our souls together.
Fritzi moans in her sleep, her hand clenching, releasing. Her eyelids flutter.
“Fritzi?” I’m not surprised she’s waking; it’s hard to sleep with such an important event happening so soon.
