Page 28 of The Endless One

A soft shawl was draped around her shoulders almost immediately. It was warm and smelled like soap and salt water.

“Agnes,” Jessamine said, and then looked up at the strong woman with a soft smile.

“You look horrible,” Agnes replied, crouching beside the three of them. “Like you got in a fight and lost.”

“I think we all did.”

“What a pity. You always were a scrappy little thing, though.” Agnes reached out and grabbed her chin, tilting her head side to side so she could look over her black eye and all the other scrapes that covered her face. “Nothing we can’t put back together. You’ll be looking like yourself in no time.”

And for some reason, that made Jessamine burst into tears.

The three women around her seemed shocked. She wasn’t sure any of them had seen her cry like this before. Ugly and raw, it rocked through her entire body, sending her onto her hands and knees before them as she tried to yank back in the sounds of pure anguish. But they wouldn’t come back in. Jessamine wanted to scream with the rage and disgust and sadness that seemed to overtake her. But all she could make was a horrible, choked sound that echoed throughout her entire being.

Her ribs ached. Her stomach clenched and seized with the feeling of it.

Then she felt the arms of the other witches come around her shoulders. All three of them in a circle around her, holding her in their arms and bearing all her emotions. They sat there in the sands with her, sharing in her pain as tears ran down their own cheeks.

When she finally quieted, Sybil cupped her face in her hands and tilted her face up to look at her. “Where does this pain come from?”

“I failed you,” Jessamine rasped. “I failed you all.”

“You did not fail us. A coven works together. We are all equally to blame for what happened.”

“But I am your gravesinger. I promised you revenge and retribution and all I did was bring you into danger and then force us all to watch the end of the world.” Jessamine shook her head, still feeling that electric ache in her chest. “This is all my fault.”

Agnes’s broad hand touched her back, as sure and as capable as any woman could be. “It is not anyone’s fault but the man who caused all this. We will still give him the pain he is due for all that he has done, Jessamine. A coven is stronger than any man ever gives it credit for.”

She didn’t believe it. That was the problem.

Deep in her gut, Jessamine was supposed to believe that they could do this. She was supposed to be assured that no matter what, they would still win. He couldn’t hold them down for too long, not when they were all together and so bloated from all of their sacrifices. That was how she had gone into this fight. Certain that nothing could stop them.

But now? Now she knew what he was capable of. She knew that they had run out of time, and that the God King himself had magic unlike anything she’d seen in her life.

Wincing, she shook her head. “I don’t know what we can do.”

Agnes’s expression hardened. “We will do what we always have. Fight. Fight until our last breath.”

It was all they could do. Jessamine didn’t want to go down without a fight. She’d never been one to roll over and take whatever someone gave her.

She looked back over her shoulder to see Elric standing there like a dark wraith, his shadow smudged across the white sands.

“We have our own god,” she murmured, catching his gaze as his eyes widened. “And I will not let another take his place.”

“That’s the spirit,” Agnes said, and then they all stood as one. “Now, let’s get you inside and cleaned up. You’ll need a bath, I suspect.”

“A bath would be much appreciated.”

The older woman started off, barking orders at the rest of the younger coven members who were gathered near the door. Jessamine hadn’t noticed they were all standing there, staring at her while they wrung their hands. Clearly, her absence had been noticed by more than just her closest friends.

Sybil grabbed her hand and started muttering an old spell, one of healing and hope. It made her bones ache and reset themselves. Bit by bit, every digit in her hand snapped back into place.

A few of the witches darted off, while the others rushed into the house. It sounded like Agnes was shouting for them to get clean clothes ready. There was something else about sponges and soap, but surely the witches hadn’t already gotten all that. They hadn’t been in Orenda for that long.

Elissa let out a little giggle before pressing her hand to her mouth with wide eyes. “Oh, hardly the time for that.”

“It’s fine. What are you giggling about?” Jessamine reached for Elric without thought, and his arm slid around her waist. He took her weight without a single issue. For that, she was deeply grateful.

“Just… they’re all so scared of Agnes. You’d think she was some warrior walking into battle every time they have to deal with her. They run when she shouts at them like that.” Elissa shook her head. “Hardly appropriate thoughts for the time, though. I’ll get you clothing that’s better than what they’ll pick out. Knowing them all, they’re going to want to dress you like a princess, and I have a feeling you’d rather have something comfortable to wear right now.”