Page 121 of The Witch and The Blood Oath

“It doesn’t matter if he did or not,” I said. “We don’t have time to track him down—not while Elle is in the High Witch’s custody. Imustget her out.”

“We will,” Walker said, “but don’t you think this lead might be worth looking into—”

Mabel waved a hand. “We’re getting off-track. How does this dreadful book factor into all of this?”

Walker grumbled under his breath.

“All Sybil told me about the book was that it possessed a great and terrible power,” Gloria said, “and that it was written by a being even more horrifying than the book itself.”

“It was written by the sorceress,” Walker suggested.

“But who is she?” Lyra asked. “Other than a being capable of controlling a chimera? Another creature whose power we possess little understanding of.”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, “but there’s only one way to find out. We need to read the book.”

“You’re dallying in dangerous magic, Coven Mother,” Gwyneth warned.

“Do any of you have a better idea how to get the answers we seek?” I asked.

Taut silence was the only reply. I didn’t give myself time to lose my nerve. I braved the eerie magic and flipped to the first page. Power swelled under my fingertips, and my ears popped. One line of text in the unfamiliar symbols was scrawled.

“It's written in Magus Solis,” Maeve recognized. “The original language of magic.”

“I've never seen it,” Anise admitted.

“Neither have I,” Walker added.

Clearly nervous, the cowboy toyed with the ends of his sleeves, and the Elders ignored his unhelpful commentary.

"It's more ancient than the Olde Tongue?" I asked.

Maeve nodded.

“Conjuring and Craft: The Foundations of Magic,” Lyra read, “by…”

The Elder squinted at the text. “Medea.”

The room plunged into darkness.

Magic roared and rattled my chest. My ears ached from the pressure it exuded, and I wanted to crawl under the table. Arion shrieked and clawed his way out of my lap.

I blinked rapidly, but nothing cleared the impenetrable shadows masking my vision. I reached for Walker, but my hand only grasped air. I tried to summon my magic, but even it cowered in the face of such horrific power.

I floundered in the darkness for what felt like centuries but was probably mere minutes. Incantations pierced the roaring, pulsing magic. I grabbed onto the Elders’ spell like a lifeline and joined their chant.

The familiar power of the Coven of Hecate broke through the gloom of the sorceress’s magic, and my own power pushed against the roar of the book’s might. I embraced the heat of my magic and its song in my throbbing ears, until eventually, the darkness dissipated, and the book’s power receded.

No one had moved from their seat. The only sign anything had happened was how pale everyone’s faces had become.

“Maybe youshouldlet the High Witch deal with the chimera,” Mabel whispered, “if it means keepingthatat bay.”

I swallowed. “It won’t work. Josephine said—"

“We’re taking her advice now?” Mabel shot back. “After all she did to our coven in life, we must let her wreck us in death, too?”

“No,” Gloria snapped, “but Sybil died saving Cadence. Have you not stopped and considered there is a greater reason for that?”

“But if Josephine knew Cady’s purpose,” Walker argued, “why did she ever try to kill her?”

---