Chapter 53

Chapter 53

SANA

T here was a Blood Moon the night that the Eternal City fell. It's a rare occurrence, where a full moon coincides with a lunar eclipse. Years later when historians recorded the events of that night, many would say it was a sign from the Goddess herself of what would come. They would say it was destined to happen that night, of all nights, and that the two events could not have been a coincidence.

They were right. It was no coincidence, but it wasn't the Goddess or fate or the alignment of stars who planned it that way.

It was Alice.

The rarity of a Blood Moon ensured the Temples would be packed with Witches, ensured that a sizable minority, if not an outright majority, of Witches from the Eternal City would be gathered in one place. And that was necessary if this was going to work. Tonight, the moon itself would be awash in a blood-red haze. Witches of all elements, of all alignments, would spend the evening at their temple, giving homage to the Goddess as she toyed with the celestial powers at her command.

Sana, of course, knew none of Alice's plans, knew nothing of what was to come. But she did know one thing: She was, woefully, behind schedule.

The Water Temple was, historically, the temple most closely associated with the lunar cycle. Water Witches are by their very nature as in tune with the moon's ebb and flow as the oceans themselves. Tonight, her Temple would be packed, every seat filled, and it was Sana's job to prepare the sermon, to prep the candles and offerings for her members. Her speech tonight—on forgiveness, on new beginnings and understanding—was only partially written, and there was still so much to do.

Sana's mind was full of things that still needed to be done, boxes that still needed to be checked off on her mental to-do list. She was understandably distracted, her mind elsewhere as she gathered herbs and oil for tonight's events. So distracted she didn't even notice the figure lurking in the dark shadows of her workshop until Fey spoke.

"Did you know?" Fey asked, her voice dangerous and low.

Sana dropped the scrying bowl she was cleansing with a startled cry, spinning around in shock.

Fey sat on the edge of the old wooden table in the center of her workshop, the table she often ate her meals at, reluctant to be far from her work here in the temples. She was wearing her Blade leathers, but no mask. No cowl. The air around her seemed to spark with energy.

"Fey?" Sana gasped. Tears stung her eyes as she looked at the Witch before her. The Witch the Queen had assured them all was dead . "Oh! Thank the Goddess you're okay, I thought?—"

Fey tossed something at her, and Sana caught it. It was a glass vial, full of some sort of silvery liquid. She frowned at it.

"Did you know?" Fey asked again. And something in that energy that swirled around her changed, becoming dangerous.

Sana's heart skipped a beat in her chest, and she swallowed. She wasn't a weak woman. She had endured her share of loss and pain and come through it all a stronger Witch than before. But Fey? Fey scared her. Had always scared her, in truth, though she tried to hide it.

With the anger that flashed in Fey's eyes now, though, and the energy that seemed to spark from her very skin, Sana found herself more frightened than ever.

Still, Fey was a Water Witch, like herself. And she owed her understanding, not fear. Sana swallowed her terror, wrapping it tightly in a box deep inside herself and pushing it down. She looked hard at the vial in her hands .

"Your sister asked me about this once," she whispered. "The short-haired one—Alice."

"Do you know what it is?" Fey asked.

Sana rolled the vial in her fingers, watching it catch the light. "No," she said finally. "No, I'm sorry, but I don't. And I told Alice the same thing when she came to me about it. It's no elixir I recognize."

Sana looked up, staring deep into Fey's eyes. "Fey, what is this about? The Crown has been looking for you, child—the things they're saying, they're—" She swallowed again and steeled herself. When a line is drawn in the sand, you must pick which side you stand on. And Sana chose hers. "Whether what they are saying is true or not does not matter. I can help you, Fey. There are temples in the outer octants where you could hide, where you would be safe until whatever this is dies down."

Fey hopped down from the table, not listening. She kept her eyes on Sana.

And the table at her back burst into flames.

Sana screamed. Not in terror, not in horror, but in simple shock. Her hand clutched her chest, squeezing the blue shawl she wore. A mark of her Coven.

Her eyes flickered from Fey to the table and back in quick succession.

"How… how did you…?"

"It's poison. Allium," Fey whispered. She nodded to the vial still in Sana's hands, and Sana flung it from herself reflexively. It clattered against the floor and rolled somewhere beneath one of her cabinets full of herbs. "They've been poisoning us, Sana. The White Priestesses have been poisoning us."

"No," Sana shook her head, from side to side, not wanting to believe it. "No, they wouldn't do something so… something so monstrous. No one would do something so monstrous… It would be blasphemy, the worst blasphemy imaginable against the Goddess's will…"

"I can burn something else, if you'd like more proof, Sana," Fey threatened. The table continued to burn behind her, the flames rearing up as though in response to her words. "Or I can call Earth, instead. I could bury this whole Temple, and everyone in it. Would that be enough proof for you?"

"You… you hold all four powers?" Sana asked, shocked.

Fey nodded, watching her carefully. "I do. And other Witches might as well. Can you see what they've taken away from us, Sana? What they've stolen from us all?"

She could. And the thought that anyone would do such a horrific thing… it sickened her, to her core. She called on Water, from deep inside herself, letting it ease her. It moved inside her like the gentle lap of the tide against the shore and gave her the chance to breathe.

Finally, Sana managed to get her breathing under control, letting the Water under her power guide her back to a place of safety, to a place where she could think clearly.

"Please put that out," she said, finally, pleased to hear her voice was steady. "I liked that table, Fey, and I don't want to lose any other furniture in here."

Fey smirked, and behind her the flames dancing over the wood of the table pulled back and died. Sana was pleased to see the damage was minimal—the wood burned, but not ruined. If Fey had done so on purpose, held back her power to such a fine degree, it must have taken a remarkable level of control.

"I need you to do something for me, Sana," Fey said. "To help make this right."

Sana nodded. "Anything," she said. "Whatever you need. You have my full support."

Fey told her, explained exactly what she needed—what Alice needed—from her and the other High Priestesses. And Sana listened. Understood.

"And you?" she asked when Fey was finished. "What will you be doing, Fey?"

The smile Fey gave her was sharp and deadly as a knife. "Me? I'll be doing what the Crown trained me to do."

Fey turned away, then, and began to move toward the backdoor of Sana's workshop.

"Wait!" Sana called, and Fey paused, looking back at her.

There are many types of strength. It takes strength to be a fighter. It takes strength to be a leader. And it takes strength to be honest—with yourself, and with others.

"I never hated you, Fey," Sana told her, hoping she could hear the truth in her words. "I know we've never seen eye to eye, I know you've kept your distance from me, and I don't blame you, I swear to the Goddess herself I don't. But I need you to know—I never hated you. I never judged you for how you used your power. If anything, I envied you.

"I've dedicated my entire life to the Goddess's gift of Water," Sana continued. "And you? You found a new, remarkable way to use it. I envied you for that. Envied the connection you share with the Goddess that I don't… but I never judged you for it, no matter what you think."

Fey stared at her long and hard. Then she nodded.

"I suppose I was wrong all this time, though," Sana said with a half-smile. "It seems like you weren't really a Water Witch at all. I hope… I hope that you find Fire suits you. I hope if you join Leandra's coven, you do so with an open heart and find peace there."

Fey looked away, shaking her head.

"No, Sana," she told her, with a sad sort of laugh. "You were right all along. I am a Water Witch. And when this is done, if… if I survive the night… I hope your invitation to join the Temple still stands."

Sana thought her heart might burst. "Oh, my child," she murmured, coming forward and opening her arms to wrap Fey in a hug. "Of course it does, and I would be honored to?—"

"Nope!" Fey danced out of her reach. "Nope, none of that. Fuck the Goddess, Sana, pull it together, and don't ever call me child again. We're nearly the same age, for fuck's sake."

Still, even as Fey turned and left, slamming the door behind her, Sana's grin was wide, and her heart was full of the Goddess's love and pride for a child of her temple.