Page 13 of The Arcane God

But truthfully, the Coven had no one else. No one else who’d been trained to understand all the intricacies of the surrounding villages and the goods and services they could provide. No one else held the trust and faith of the witches of the Auster Coven—deserved or not—in this tumultuous time. So it was up to her, and she would do her best to lead them.

And tonight, after her Ascension, she would lead them in an entirely new direction. But as right as it felt to begin to reveal the history that had been kept from them, her stomach still tightened with nerves at the prospect, and she quietly felt like she might throw up.

Refocusing her eyes on the document in front of her, she noted that there was an outstanding agreement with Northumbra to provide twelve vials of bone-stitching potion in exchange for this spring’s harvest of carrots and two pigs. She made a mental note to follow up on the crop’s status now that it was nearly Imbolc, halfway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox, and Beltane would be coming up swiftly in the Turning.

Greya shut her eyes and rubbed the space between them, soothing the headache that was forming there. She hadn’t even touched the other matriarchs’ journals—the ones who had served before Heran. Only a few of those had survived the house fire, but she supposed, somewhere in them, was a record of the amulet and the binding spell. She’d have to add going through those to her long list of things to do, just to make sure there were no other big revelations that had been kept from her her entire life.

The door creaked open as light filtered into the altar room, and Perse strode in.

“Hello, love,” he said, his smiling face greeting her as he shut the door behind him. “Still working?”

“Yes,” Greya sighed. “There’s still so much to do.”

“I know, but not all potions can be brewed in a fortnight, you know,” he said, giving her a playful look. “Why don’t you take a break? Thyla’s here to talk to you about the ceremony.”

“Oh?” Greya said, her stomach a knot of anticipation at the mention of it.

“Come on, love,” Perse insisted, coming around the table to push her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “We’ll get you something to eat too, shall we?”

Perse guided her to standing, and she acquiesced. Her stomach had been rumbling for the last hour but she’d been ignoring it, powering through “one more entry” after another.

Greya’s eyes squinted, adjusting to the daylight coming through the windows, as they left the altar room and made their way towards the kitchen.

Thyla sat at the expansive wooden table, nibbling on one of Greya’s infamous biscuits, but she looked up when the two of them entered the room, her bright red hair catching the sunlight. “There you are,” she greeted. “The soon-to-be matriarch of the Auster Coven!” Thyla smiled widely, her excitement so palpable, Greya couldn’t help but smile in return.

“That’s me,” she said, giving a watery smile as that ball of nerves in her stomach tightened further. She was excited and honored to become the matriarch, of course. But that didn’t mean the responsibility of it all didn’t weigh on her, especially since there was so much Thyla and the other witches didn’t yet know.

“I’ve got everyone notified of the ceremony timing tonight, and all the preparations in order. I thought you might like help preparing your ceremonial bath,” Thyla offered.

As was customary before all significant rituals where one stood before the Coven and Gaia, Greya would be taking a warm bath prepared with marjoram, cedar berries, and lemongrass, to cleanse and purify her body for the Ascension.

“Thanks, Thyla, that’d be great,” Greya answered warmly, but something in her heart turned cold as the mention of the bath made her think of Ena. Last time, it was she who had prepared a cleansing bath for Ena before her Summoning. Her mind turned to her sister now, and she sent a silent prayer to Gaia that she and her unborn baby were safe, wherever they were.

“Of course! I’ll start gathering the herbs and heating the water,” Thyla said, before flitting off to fetch water from the cistern outside.

Greya looked up to find Perse’s hazel gaze tracking her.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing, my love. Just making sure you’re alright,” he said in that kindly, calm way of his.

Greya sighed. There was no use hiding her feelings from Perse. He already knew everything anyway.

“I’m alright, just a bit…nervous. I haven’t exactly figured out what I’m going to say to them all tonight,” she said, smoothing her dress in front of her.

“Gaia will show you your path. Have faith in her. And yourself,” Perse said. “You are the matriarch we need, Greya. I Know this to be true.”

Greya smiled up at her husband, before reaching out to squeeze his hand in thanks. “I better go get ready then,” she said.

“Yes, off you go. I’ve got to get back to composing your song, anyway.”

“You’re writing me a song?” she asked, her eyes lighting up.

“All my songs are for you, but this one in particular, yes,” Perse said, bending down to kiss her on the forehead.

Greya’s heart warmed in that special way only Perse could elicit in her. His Gift of sonia made him a talented musician, among other things, and she truly couldn’t wait to see what musical composition he’d come up with this time.

“I’ll see you in the Grove, then,” she said, feeling more confident, knowing he had her back.