Page 82 of Last Gift: Supernatural Battle

“Now, if possible.”

There was a silence on the other end. “Unlikely, but I will inquire.”

Opal returned to the table, and the glow of the symbol faded.

Varden hummed. “What does the original coven hope to achieve?”

“Other than revenge?” Ruby asked.

“Their only son resides in this coven. To leave us powerless against a foe that could kill him is something they won’t do.”

Ruby pulled a face. “They didn’t seem to care much about him.”

“They don’t,” I told her. “They care about who he is—the heir to the original coven. They won’t risk his life.”

Winona hummed. “There have been instances where the original coven—and other covens—have offered much-needed aid at a steep price.”

“The price being?”

“Ah, yes,” Varden said. “Well surmised, Winona. The price would be the coven, of course. Fertim did not win, and therefore Wild is not ruling this coven. They seek to secure the coven another way. They wish to make us desperate first, so we’ll accept.”

“But our leader is in a relationship with Wild,” Ruby said. “Surely that’s almost the same as Wild being leader.”

“She proved herself immune to their control while they were visiting,” Huxley answered. “She’s an unpredictable factor, and they don’t like it.”

Ruby tilted her chin. “Our leader shouldn’t be under any other coven’s control.”

“Frond doesn’t feel the same way,” I said.

The jagged symbol glowed again.

Opal hurried over and touched it. “You’re speaking with an esteemed advisor of High Esteemed Corentine.”

“High Esteemed Nightlock will speak with your leader. Her available time is limited.”

“Our thanks,” Opal replied, then appeared to pinch at the symbol on the wall before drawing her hand back. A portal was opened, and I rose from my authority as High Esteemed Nightlock came into view.

“Thank you for speaking with me on short notice, High Esteemed,” I greeted the old woman.

“I usually delay these things because I hate waffling on. What do you want?”

This woman reminded me of my grandmother. I didn’t fear her. I also wasn’t her granddaughter and couldn’t forget that. She owed me nothing. We just liked how the other held herself. “Who told you of our pending alliance with Vissimo and Luthers?”

“Oh, I heard it from Bartemus, who heard it from that sorry excuse for a magus leader in the backcountry of France, who heard it from someone she couldn’t quite recall.” The old woman snorted. “The original coven, of course. Who else would we hear it from?”

I nodded. “I suspected as much. The alliance doesn’t seem to deter you despite the possible partnership with other supernaturals.”

“No. It’s smart. If you’ve only got shit to throw at your enemy, you throw it.”

Princess Basilia might have something to say about that description.

“Any other information you’re able to offer?”

Her green eyes glinted. “Only something the French coven leader let slip to Bartemus after a few too many drinks. The original coven has selected a new leader for your magus for when you come begging to them for help. Any guesses who?”

“Frond,” I replied, my chest tightening with anger.

“Knew you weren’t dumb. You’re up against a lot, High Esteemed, and from what I hear, you’re holding it together. You have my support—my full support. I should have given it to you from the start, but I’d only met you the one time. I like what you’ve done since, and the original coven has too much power over our race. I’ll stand in their way wherever and whenever I can. I’ll get details of numbers and power levels to your minions.”

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