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A twig breaks behind me and I turn to find Vanessa standing there, brows knit.
She doesn’t look pleased.
“What are you doing, Ophelia?” Vanessa glances from me to the boys on the shore and her frown deepens. “Is this…? You performed the Ritual of the Wind? Why?”
It takes me a moment to place the unhappy expression on Vanessa’s face and what it means, but then it clicks.
She hadn’t known about this. Ophelia didn’t tell her.
“They were slipping their bonds,” Ophelia says carefully. “It had to be done.”
“It’s a powerful ritual, binding someone’s magic to you. We agreed that this sort of magic wasn’t necessary. You only want to punish them, strip them of their power. You—”
“Enough, Vanessa.” Ophelia waves a hand and the boys jerk as if coming awake from a deep sleep. “It’s not important. Come, pets. Let’s get you out of the cold.”
She leads them away, toward the dormitories, and once more I clench my hands into fists, locking my knees, forcing myself not to go after them. At least they’ll spend the night in their beds, not outside, in the cold night. Would she have let them go if I hadn’t seen what was going on through my link to the boys, if I hadn’t confronted her?
Terrible as it is to watch them stagger after her, still looking dazed, their knees almost buckling more than once, I make myself stay.
“You should leave them alone. All this means is that it’s time to tighten my leash. Bring them to their knees.”
“Well,” Vanessa says and I glance at her. I’d almost forgotten she was there. “I don’t get it. She’s dragging this out.”
“Until the Golden Moon,” I whisper.
A shadow of some strong emotion passes behind Vanessa’s rich brown eyes. “Do you know what the Ritual of the Wind can do? Or the Ritual of the Storm that comes after? What about the Ritual of the Void? It’s a series of powerful rituals, forbidden by the powers that be.”
“I don’t know why you’re telling me this,” I whisper. “You think to surprise me? I told you that she wants to take over the world.”
“She wasn’t supposed to perform any of these rites,” she mutters. “This wasn’t the plan.”
And for the first time, hope flares in me that she may consider what I told her—about Ophelia wanting all the power for herself, about hiding things from her—and weigh it all. Wonder if it’s the truth. If she’s made the right choice.
Fingers crossed she decides it’s time to help me.
