Page 116 of The Witch and The Blood Oath

“Goddessdammit,” I hissed. “Play it again. Please,pleaseplay it again.”

Blood stained the music box, but the room was still and empty except for me. As I lost my goddessmotheragain,I crumbled under the weight of my despair.

I had never been more alone. Mom was gone, and Josephine was gone, and everything was so unforgivably unfair—

The door clicked open, and a calico bundle of fur jumped into my arms. A tall shadow hung over me, and familiar magic cleared my muddled thoughts.

“Freya?” Walker said.

“She’s gone,” I whispered. “She’s gone again.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Walker

Freya might never love me, but I couldn’t let her face the ghosts of her past by herself. I didn’t realize how much revisiting her dead goddessmother would cost her, however, until I found her broken on the bedroom floor.

“She’s gone,” she repeated.

I crouched beside her and tried to harden my aching heart. Snot and tears covered her reddened face, and when her eyes met mine, the wealth of the sadness in their depths broke the last of my defenses.

I pulled her into my arms.

Friends hug, right?

As Freya collected herself, she breathed deeply into my neck and left a trail of goose bumps in her wake. I swallowed. Without meeting my gaze, Freya jerked away from me, wiped the mess off her face, and stood on shaky legs.

“Sorry,” she mumbled and cleared her throat. “I should tell you what I learned.”

There she goes,I thought,pulling away again.

I reminded myself I shouldn’t have expected otherwise, shoved down my hurt, and rose to my feet.

“Yeah,” I said and ran a hand through my hair. “Yeah, of course.”

Freya recited what Josephine’s projection had told her, though from how her retelling awkwardly paused and continued, I was certain she left out the more personal details. As Freya spoke, she paced, and I could practically see the wheels of her mind turning. I listened intently and tried to grasp everything she recounted.

“So,” I said, “the voice Elle heard in her head as a child—that was this sorceress? The sorceress who Cady is apparently supposed to stop because whatever the High Witch wants to do with Elle is not going to work?”

Freya nodded. “And my motherdidprotect the chimera, though I’m not sure how. I’m also not sure how she managed to disobey the High Witch without incurring her wrath.”

Freya paced, and I turned over what she had told me again.

“This is so frustrating,” Freya growled. “There has to bemore!”

“Wait,” I exclaimed, “Josephine said ‘where my spirit still thrives, I’ve left you the information you need’? Doesn’t that seem kind of redundant?”

“You’re right,” Freya replied and chewed on her lower lip. “Josephine was never one to repeat herself, and I was clearly already speaking to the remnants of her spirit.”

An idea struck me.

“Do you think there’s something else here?” I asked. “Some other clue?”

We hesitated then launched into action. While Freya investigated the dresser, I searched the closet, and Arion sniffed under Josephine’s bed. I cast out magical feelers, but I sensed nothing but the remnants of old spells. After digging through an exorbitant amount of shoes, dresses, pantsuits, and fancy coats, I emerged from the closet empty-handed.

“Unless she’s still haunting her high heels,” I said, “I found nothing.”

Freya cursed under her breath. “There has to be more.”

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