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"Really. Now there's someone who was definitely murdered."
"When did you gather it?" I asked. "It has to be on the first night of her menses."
"Oh, that's an old wives'--or old witches'--tale," Olivia said. "That's one thing you'll learn, Savannah. A lot of what you've heard is nonsense. Gathering items on certain days, performing rituals at specific times--"
"You mean I don't need to wait until the eighth day?"
"No, that one's true. Or so we believe, though no witch I know has ever been willing to test the theory and risk hampering her daughter's powers."
When we arrived at the back door Roberta Shaw and Anton were waiting to escort us outside. I hadn't seen the necromancer since Monday, at the funeral home. Shaw hadn't been among the staff who'd presented Savannah with gifts, so I'd assumed she'd been sent packing for her role in that horror show. Seeing her still here made me wonder whether Nast's condemnation of the funeral home debacle had been more show than substance.
"What's she doing here?" Savannah said, shooting a glare at Shaw.
"I asked Mr. Nast if Roberta could accompany us instead of Leah," Greta explained. She lowered her voice. "I don't know about you, but I don't trust that Volo."
"Well, I don't trust that necro, either," Savannah said.
Olivia hushed her. "She was only doing her job, Savannah. Now come along."
We passed the barn and entered the forest.
"So are we practicing the ceremony?" Savannah asked.
"No, we're performing a rite. A special protection rite."
"Cool."
"Very cool," Greta said. "Not many young witches get this. It requires very unique ingredients. When we mentioned it to Mr. Nast, though, he gave us carte blanche. Anything to help his little girl on her special day."
I resisted the urge to make retching noises. "What kind of protection does it give?"
"The best. Think of it as a comprehensive insurance policy. It'll prevent everything from demonic interference to having Savannah wake up with the flu next Wednesday."
"Huh," I said. "Sounds good."
"It's sorcerer magic."
"Of course."
They led us into the woods. We passed the spot where we'd practiced the afternoon before and kept going. As we walked, Savannah glanced back at Shaw and Anton.
"Who's carrying the material?" she asked.
"What material is that, dear?" Olivia said.
"For the ritual."
"Everything we need is at the site."
"I should have brought my new athame."
Both Greta and Olivia frowned, then Olivia laughed.
"Oh, that's right. Coven witches still use their tools. You'll find we've moved beyond that. We all still have an athame as a keepsake--a reminder of our past. As I'm sure you know, the tools aren't actually required for casting."
"My mom used them," Savannah said.
"That's because she was raised Coven. It takes a while to shake the old ways. I clung to my tools for years, like a security blanket. You'll find we only use tools that are imperative for casting."
