Chapter 14

Chapter

Fourteen

AGATHA

R aw. Every portion of Agatha felt foreign. Ragged and far too brittle.

She sat on the floor of the moon room within their manor, a glass atrium fitted with lounge chairs to bask beneath the glittering sky. Looking up at the moon, she let it all wash over her. Vaguely, she wondered if the orb bathing her in its glow was her moon. It wasn't the Strawberry Moon, that was for certain, nor was it Reaping, Honey, or Yule. Perhaps The Void had another phase of the same Madam Moon.

Agatha was squinting up at it, thankful for its minute distraction when Grimm materialised beside her in a heap on the floor.

"Hello, reaper," she said quietly, unsure of how lucid he was.

"Hello, little witch." Righting himself to sit, he tipped his head back, letting it rest against the glass wall. She watched his exposed throat bob as he spoke. "I awoke to a missing wife and a torrent of emotions." Grimm let his head roll against the wall, his gaze sliding over to her. His lips quirked in a mournful, fatigued smile.

"You're going mad, you know." She'd meant the words to have more empathy, but her tone was inadvertently flat, deadpan. She was so tired and unbalanced.

It didn't matter how she'd said it anyway, he felt her concern within.

"Yes," he said simply, his lips pulled tight over his teeth before he laughed humourlessly. "I need to get to the Meadow. I need the rest of my power back."

"Once we get some sleep, we will go. Nyxia is gathering the others?—"

Grimm twitched and it stopped her cold.

"Grimm."

He squeezed his eyes shut, the muscles in his jaw working furiously. Convulsions began wracking his body and Agatha sat straighter, jostling his shoulder.

"Grimm. Stay with me."

The tremors ceased at the sound of her voice, but a sadness draped over him, his gaze suddenly realms, times, bodies away.

"What do you see?" she dared to ask, still gripping his shoulder.

"Talan," he whispered, but not to Agatha. "Darling, why do you look so sad?"

Agatha watched, her heart clawing its way up into her throat, as he rose from the floor and crossed over to an empty lounge chair, kneeling before it .

Agatha focused on the filling of her lungs, willing herself to see what he was seeing. But she must not have been present for the moment playing before his eyes.

"All will be well," he told their invisible eldest daughter.

The look of pride and pain on his face sent tears forming afresh in Agatha's eyes.

"We will find a way to fix this." Grimm tucked what seemed like an invisible strand of hair behind Talan's ear and rose, walking toward the door.

"Grimm." Agatha hurried to stand, pulling at his sleeve. "Grimm look at me."

Confusion passed over his features, and he peered around the atrium as if listening for something, a distant sound.

" Grimm ," she said again, gritting her teeth and stepping in front of him. Putting her hands on either side of his face, the stubble scratching at her palms, she commanded, " Thanasim , look at me ."

He gazed right through her for a moment, before his head cocked to one side, his brows deeply furrowed. "Asteria? What's happened?"

"Nothing has happened. Just keep your eyes on me."

Slowly, his brow smoothed out, clarity returning to his eyes, familiarity with it. "Agatha?"

"Yes," she almost sobbed. "Just look at me. Don't go away again, all right?"

He searched her face, a tangle of torment in their bond. "I can't tell what's real." His voice shuddered with the words.

"Because it was all real." She rose on her tiptoes to brush a kiss against his lips. "Perhaps we need some fresh air." Taking his hand, she led him outside to an opulent, towering gazebo of intricate black flora and mullioned glass .

But as soon as her boots hit the top step, they both collapsed.

ASTERIA, THEN

Rain drummed on the glass roof of the gazebo, sliding in rivulets, and dripping down the columns of black iron flora. Goddess , but their daughters had grown into such astounding witches.

"You mustn't begin doubting, Mother." Monarch's gentle voice fluttered into her thoughts.

"She's right," Hissa came forward and wound her arm through Asteria's. Thanasim took her other hand and brushed an errant hair from their daughter's face.

Talan's eyes were filled to the brim with tears. "It's what is best." A droplet escaped her control, and Monarch folded her in an embrace.

Belfry stood quietly to the side of the florid gazebo, her hands clasped. Their last born. The one exactly in between her parents in personality, with magic to match.

Asteria squeezed Hissa's and Thanasim's hands, dropping them in order to address everyone. To go over the plan one last time before they enacted it.

"Talan, we will entrust this to you." She conjured the goddess quill and handed it to their eldest daughter. "The four of you will use it to pen exactly what Hespa breathes into you. Is that clear?"

All four witches nodded .

"These passages that you write, they will come forth within this sacred Grimoire." A tome of great beauty materialised in Thanasim's outstretched hand. "They will come to you at the proper time, for a future generation, and you will write them down. What is written will be deemed an Order—an act that the witch must perform."

"In doing so," Thanasim stepped in, "History will be moulded to protect not only the Sisters Solstice but magic in its entirety."

Asteria nodded, continuing, "Our spell this night will bind this all in place, and it will set forth the terms for the witches who will follow in your place when it is time." She swallowed hard, wholly shaken by any discussion of an age when their daughters would be no more.

"As you know, there was a great deal of time before your father and I met, and in that span, a race of half-gods was birthed. In some realms, they are called Elves, in others Keepers or Druids. These beings carry power much like your own, but they are not witches.

"Though I did not birth any children before the four of you, I did bestow portions of my limited magic upon many prior to my rebirth as Goddess of Magic. This created a type and shadow of my own children, in much the way the Goddess Three bestows a new life upon her chosen—the gods. The descendants of this gift of limited magic are referred to as the magi. Once I was given the kernel of Primordial magic directly from Hespa, I continued this bestowal as She had before me."

"Witches," Talan finished for her.

"Witches." With a deep breath, Asteria pushed on. "The spell we set in place tonight will dictate the following :

Any descendant of Lord Night who joins with a descendant of the magic I personally gifted, magi or witch, will have four daughters each born on the Solstice or Equinox, and they will become the new Sisters Solstice when they come of age."

"There is still one thing that doesn't make sense to me," Hissa broke in. "The magic you gifted to the magi before you became Lady Magic is different because it was a portion of your limited magic as a witch. But the magic you bestow upon witches and warlocks now, it differs from the magic in Athania?"

"Yes, darling. The gift of magic bestowed upon a witch or warlock is neither a seed nor a thread of The Primordial's well of magic—the Source of all magic. Hespa's many facets have been placed within The Thirteen making up The Primordial. We only share of the giftings, never from the essence of the gift."

Except once. Goddess help them. She had made such a mess of things.

"But you did share of that Primordial Source with Athania."

"Yes," Asteria answered solemnly. "Does that make more sense?"

Hissa nodded, but her brows were still knit together and the sight warmed Asteria's heart. She was both immensely glad and immensely pained that the Sisters were more than mortal, yet less than gods.

"Athania has a thread of magic's essence," Monarch explained simply.

"Yes, darling." Shame licked up Aseria's neck. This was all her fault .

Thanasim slid his hand across the small of her back. You loved her, he said in her mind. Never feel shame for that.

I love you, she whispered back. In all lives, forevermore.

How could she leave Thanasim? Their daughters? She stifled a sob. Caught it in her ribs, like a spider traps prey, before the lament could escape. There was no other way.

Thanasim was watching her closely with those night-sky eyes. I will always find you, my love.

Asteria cleared her throat. "Are we ready?"

Reluctant nods passed around the gazebo. When the spell was cast, Thanasim would seal it with his power, and they would leave.

All of them.

Separately.

Asteria's palm slipped into Thanasim's as he took Talan's hand. She, in turn, grasped Hissa's. Monarch took her other, Belfry closing the gap between Monarch and Asteria.

"Love?" Thanasim addressed Asteria. "Do you have it?"

Asteria nodded, a beautiful amulet appearing in the middle of the circle, simple in its elegance, adorned with four intertwining petals—one for each of their daughters.

Asteria closed her eyes, lifting her face to the rain-slicked glass of the gazebo, to the moon and all her cohorts. Her voice was strong, crystal-clear as she began the invocation of spirits yet to be. Their descendants. Their salvation. Their sacrifice.

"Tonight, we call upon the blessing of Hespa.

Tonight, we call upon Fate and all its threads.

Tonight, we call upon the spirits of the future,

Of the Sisters Solstice. "

"So mote it be," the Sisters echoed, Thanasim's power snaking out to wind around the locket in thick, inky tendrils of smoke.

"Tonight we call upon vines of power,

The Source of magic.

Tonight, we command a piece of each,

Leave these godly bodies,

Locked away until the proper time."

"So mote it be."

Thunder crashed, the gazebo's glass shaking, as Thanasim's grief curled within her. As his power wound around the locket, waiting.

A glowing, silken strand of rose-gold magic flowed from Asteria's heart into the locket. A black vine of shadow and night slithered from Thanasim, flecks like stars glistening in its midst. It, too, disappeared into the locket, the waiting tendrils of his power snapping it shut, sealing the spell.

"So mote it be," they all said in tearful unison.

"May love be what binds us," Asteria said shakily.

"May love be what binds us," they echoed.

Asteria looked at each of her children as the locket floated to Thanasim. He clasped his hand around it, and she spoke with a trembling voice. "In order for Athania to return here, she will need both of our powers or all four of you. Now, part of our power is in the locket, holding our godliness. It is enough to make it more difficult for her, but not enough to thwart her fully."

The Sisters nodded solemnly.

"Each Solstice and Equinox, you will convene. Your magic is strongest on those nights. Otherwise, it is not safe for you to even speak to one another. If she takes enough of the power within all four of you…"

"She won't." This from Talan, her eyes alight. Fierce.

Thunder crashed again, Thanasim's raging turmoil coming from the clouds as savagely as within the bond. "It's time," he said quietly. Firmly.

One by one, they held their daughters for what they all knew would be the last time, though they were loath to admit it.

"I can't watch you all leave," Hissa cried. "I love you." And she was gone. Asteria thought her knees would buckle.

"Everything will be all right." Monarch disappeared with tears on her cheeks and a morose smile.

"I'm proud of you, Mummy." Talan's words broke Asteria's already fractured heart. "I see you. I feel your heart. Everything you do is for us." Talan touched her hand to her mother's heart and was gone, Asteria's chest cold in her daughters' absence.

"I love you both," Belfry said through a torrent of tears. "And I will find a way to end this." Then, she was gone, and Thanasim barely caught Asteria before she collapsed.

In a heap on the floor of the gazebo, Thanasim took Asteria's face in his hands. She could feel the tremble in his fingertips, the fraying, unravelling of their bond already beginning.

"I will always find you," he whispered, his eyes glistening.

His body began to shift. To dematerialise and bleed into the shadows until he, too, was gone.

Asteria was cleaved in two .

The bond snapped, a pain unlike anything she'd ever felt. She roared in agony, weeping for her loves—all of them. Her magic was beginning to thin, the well filling with water, diluting her.

She needed to get out of Achlys. Out of The Void. Where would she go? How could she live a mortal life as a witch after the love she'd carried? Beating her hands against the stone floor she cried. Already, Thanasim was slipping from her memory.

They needed to grasp some of their memory. Or they wouldn't be able to protect their daughters in the mortal realms.

Before her magic could slip away fully, she lay on her back, hand outstretched to the moon. A claw extended, a monster of light and dark, willing to do anything it took to protect those she loved.

"May we never forget the Sisters Solstice."

The moment the words left her mouth, Asteria's magic dipped low, no longer Primordial. Sniffling and weak, she clawed her way to her feet. The rain had stopped. Her mind felt addled. Empty and grasping. At what, she wasn't sure.

A twig snapped and she whirled around.

"Belfry."

Her lip wobbled, and Asteria launched herself forward to take her hands. The rain had begun again.

"I know how to end it, Mummy. I know how to end all of it."

AGATHA, NOW

How many more times could she take her chest caving in? They were so close…

Grimm began muttering beside her on the floor of the gazebo, eyes unfocused and half-crazed. They were out of time.

"Grimm." She knelt over him, putting her hand on his cheeks. "Reaper, we have to go." She tugged him to sitting, mutters still streaming forth from him in a multitude of languages. He leaned against one of the iron pillars, rain beginning to drizzle.

She wasn't fully certain if he'd seen what she had, or not. Most of it, surely. But not Belfry. Not what Belfry had said.

Oh, gods.

Agatha rushed to the edge of the gazebo and vomited into the dead leaves. Collapsing to the floor again, her head hung partially off the side, rain drizzling onto her. She focused on her breathing, her hand clutched around her mother's amulet. The locket that broke apart for her and her Sisters and melded back together. The locket that held so much.

Finally, Agatha grounded herself enough to rise. Slowly, she coaxed Grimm up and to the back door of the palace, where Nyxia was waiting for them, pacing—just like Grimm did when he was agitated.

"We need to leave," Agatha spat as Nyxia darted forward to help her with Grimm.

"Let him sleep first. The others will meet with us in the Meadow come goddess-rise.

A growl escaped Agatha's lips. "He's lost his fucking mind, Nyxia. "

"Then help him get it back ," Lady Death snapped in equal fury.

Although she wanted to throttle this goddess, she was right. Agatha set her jaw and turned to face Grimm, her voice calm as a moonlit lake as she said, "Reaper. Look at me."

He stopped muttering, but his gaze was still far off.

"We're going to go lie down and get you some rest, all right?"

He made no outward sign of registering her words, but he stumbled along beside her to their chambers.

Once safely tucked in bed, Agatha stared up at the mystical night sky that was their bedroom ceiling, her mind swirling as Grimm slept soundly next to her.

In some ways, when they'd last lay in this bed, she had briefly pictured them returning to Achlys forever. Seen Grimm with his returned, full power, taking the throne at whatever point in time Nyxia decided she no longer wished to rule Achlys and its reapers, wraiths, and Death Seers.

Now that she knew their purpose in leaving and at least most of the plan they'd enacted, putting one step in front of the other was all she could picture.

Grimm stirred next to her, a small groan issuing forth. Agatha started to ask if he was all right, but he sat up on one elbow, his back to her. Gently, he reached forward at nothing, chuckling sleepily "Hissa, sweetheart, go back to bed."

Agatha's stomach dropped to her toes. She wanted to leap up, lurch forward and grasp what he was looking at.

Careful not to jostle him, she sat up enough to confirm what she already knew—no one was there. Not anymore. Not after what she'd seen in the gazebo.

Grimm sat up on the edge of the bed, an intense paternal love coursing through the bond toward Agatha to the point she thought she would weep again. "Sweetheart, I promise it was only a dream." His hand came up like he was cupping their daughter's cheek.

Agatha couldn't take it. She looked away and closed her eyes.

When another moment passed, Grimm laid back down and Agatha opened her eyes. As she set her hand on his chest, Grimm turned toward her, fully awake. A bare, peaceful smile lit his face and he leaned in to kiss her before turning over and going back to sleep.

GRIMM

Asteria's eyes keep changing colours. It's the most peculiar thing. Her name, too.

It's silly, really. But she's always loved driving me mad. This morning at breakfast, she went on and on about her plans with Athania, and by midday, she had eyes the colour of the ocean, where I found her sitting on a bench, reading a book in a different realm. The look on her face was as if she'd never seen me before, and, to be fair, it was as if I had laid eyes on her for the first time as well.

Then, by this evening, her eyes were the colour of honey, and she was storming about the top of a lighthouse, yelling at me about something or other. While, last night, she had the same fiery hair as always and those same honey eyes as in the lighthouse, but we were in a cottage I hadn't seen in ages, and I was doing delicious things to her.

The way she's using her magic to toy with me is quite inexplicable. It makes me curious what her name will be tomorrow. What colour her eyes will be. In what way she will hide from me, waiting to draw me in.

And, of course, she will. But I will always find my little witch.