Page 44 of Blood Feast

Aunt Lyta’s laughter drifted down from the gallery. She adjusted a silk drape over the banister, then returned to conjuring wards over the hole in the roof. Flurries of fresh snow threatened to make their way in.

Cassia’s magic pulsed in her veins like a panicked heartbeat. “Kalos, there must be something else we can try.”

He rubbed his chin. “I was sure using the right plants in your casting would work for you. But we’ve tried all the incantations, gestures, and spell ingredients I’ve seen heart hunters use—or heard of Silvicultrixes using in the tales. I’m sorry, Cassia. So much knowledge of our magic has been lost.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Their sympathy for each other’s plight twinged in the Blood Union.

“I’m afraid there may be only one solution,” Kalos said.

She looked away from the roses to meet his grim gaze. “Whatever it is, I will try it.”

“It’s not that simple.” He grimaced. “I think you need a triune focus.”

“What is that?” she asked.

“Well, in the legends, a Silvicultrix would use artifacts in her rituals. A set of three that helped her focus the massive amounts of magic she could pull from the Lustra. Those were the mostpowerful Lustra artifacts, the ones the Silvicultrixes used to create letting sites.”

Cassia’s hand went to her pendant. “Do you think this could be one?”

Kalos nodded. “I think that used to be one of the Changing Queen’s three foci. Now it has become yours.”

Cassia’s shoulders slumped. “How can I find two more artifacts this powerful?”

“Well, you can’t. A focus has to be made. You give it life by using it during rituals.” He pointed at the pendant. “Like your Gifting.”

She stared down at the fused disc, half wood, half metal. Her bastardization of her ancient matriarch’s artifact. “It’s debatable whether I am even a Silvicultrix anymore.”

He blinked at her in surprise. “Of course you’re still a Silvicultrix.”

“I only have the one Lustra affinity now, turned into something else altogether thanks to my blood magic.”

“You are Orthros’s Silvicultrix, regardless,” Apollon said.

A smile came to her face. “Thank you, Papa.”

He took her hand in both of his ancient, strong ones. “It’s time for you to get ready for the ceremony.”

“But the roses…” she protested.

“Leave the rest to me. This is your avowal. Lay all your worries in the hands of those who love you and Lio so you can fully enjoy this night.”

It sank in anew, one of the quietest but most profound revelations of her new life. She could ask for help. She even had a father who would move mountains to ease her burdens. This heretical patriarch who was the antithesis of her mortal sire.

“You have my gratitude,” Cassia said.

“You have my love,” Apollon replied.

It was so hard to do, but she turned away from the roses. She let the latent magic drain out of her. Her years of survival and self-preservation were harder to fight than those wild flowers, but she relinquished control. Leaving her goal unfinished, she trusted her Grace-father to have her back.

Cassia looked into thefull-length mirrors and could scarcely believe the vision in the glass was her present life. It was so different from the future her past self had feared.

She wasn’t looking at an empty husk dressed in a Tenebran wedding gown fit for a funeral. She wasn’t dreading a march to Anthros’s altar to be sacrificed to a man. And she wasn’t alone.

The mirror showed her freckled self and her shaggy dog, the one constant at her side. But now her freckled self had fangs and wore a green silk veil hours robe, ready to be dressed for her very Hesperine avowal ceremony.

She was surrounded by people who wanted to make this night wonderful for her. Komnena smoothed her hair, and Solia pressed her cheek to Cassia’s, looking into the mirror with her. Behind them, her Trial sisters were busy preparing her Grace-mother’s lavish dressing room, where they would get Cassia ready.

She couldn’t wait to walk through the Ritual hall to Lio’s side.

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