Page 148 of Bound By Fury

That is, until the last Cardinal meets their catalyst.

When she comes, they will feel it…

Nora’s words are knife tips cutting into me repeatedly.

These witches exchanged their lives for this… this prophecy.

These witches sacrificed their magic and the magic of four generations of our coven to hide the Celestial Cusp from the hunters. To stave off the destruction of the world long enough to bring the prophecy to fruition, to birth the Cardinal Witches. These witches gave up everything for me.

Am I truly the savior of my people?

Or just another sacrifice?

I have the distinct feeling that even now I’m only forming the most basic understanding of what I am, of the dangers that await me.

And more than that, I can’t shake the feeling that the death of those twelve women rests on my shoulders. Though now more than ever, I don’t understand them. It’s clear that they’re the ones who appeared alongside Nora in the hedge maze.

If I am their Cardinal, if I am the Water, why would they suppress my magic? Why would they put me at risk like that?

Still… guilt begins to take up space where my heart should be.

Guilt and sorrow.

And anger. No. Fury.

If the stars rule all, if they are our guiding light, how could they have let this happen? If they knew this would be my fate, why take Gigi from me right when I needed her most? Why abandon me here like this, woefully unprepared?

I suppose it doesn’t matter.

If I am the last Cardinal, then I must ascend before “a century’s time.”

The last entry is dated November 3. This means I have two days to prepare to meet my catalyst or risk losing our coven’s magic forever, leaving the Celestial Cusp vulnerable to those that wish to drain it.

Two days to save the world from certain destruction.

The thought of it is too intense. It’s too much pressure.

My legs carry me out of the room and down the stairs, my muscles vibrating as I burst through the back door. This uncontrollable wrath is now a swirling storm that whips across the yard, debris flying from the trees.

I am a black hole, consuming the universe.

The shock of cold rain against my skin evaporates into steam as I march, my hair lashing violently against my face, my hoodie billowing in vicious waves across my torso. I fight against it, my mind set on one thing only.

Gigi’s tree stands, its thin sapling trunk bending with the harsh gusts. Its branches have grown since the memorial, and now they whistle as they slash through the air. I think for a moment that the tree will be uprooted. I can’t find the mercy to care.

When my feet reach the edge of the garden bed, surrounded by the stones we placed at the funeral, I collapse.

“Why did you do this?” I scream over the wailing storm. Violent, cruel sobs rip from my chest until my breath rattles like pneumonia in my lungs.

I am no prophecy. No Cardinal.

I want to die right here, melt into the ground and join the only woman who could have protected me from this.

But I remember the merciless dark of the hedge maze.

There was no protection for me then, and there isn’t any now.

I was never worth the sacrifice.