Exhaling, Ágota says nothing for several long and tense moments. At last, she says, “If the coven agrees to this spell but do not assist me, I could be weaker than a mortal afterward. Mother was very ill after she summoned the castle, though it may have worked to her advantage in the end. I suspect it was the magic of this world that restored her and that is why she could wield it so effectively.”
“I suppose that makes sense. You need not worry. I will help you cast the spell. So will Father. Do you really need the rest of the coven? We three are so powerful.”
“Yes, I do. The more siphons, the better, for I might drain too much magic from those assisting me, and even kill them.”
I frown at this revelation. “That was not divulged during the earlier discussion.”
“No, but they are not fools even if they act like they are sometimes. They will understand the risks.”
“Maybe we should stay here.”
The witches have gone through so much. I dread the thought of them losing more, perhaps even their lives. Henrietta’s argument haunts me. She lost so much in the aftermath of the exodus.
“If they choose to stay here, I will not argue with them. It is their right. But your future is in the world out there. A noblewoman in a castle. Loved and adored. I have seen it.”
“And your future?”
Ágota’s scowl deepens. “I cannot see it.”
“Can Father?”
She s
hakes her head. “I asked. He cannot either. He says it may be because I am an Archwitch. There are too many possible outcomes to all I do to see a clear future.”
“Do you see all the possible outcomes for me?”
Ágota turns her head to regard me. The seriousness of her expression scares me a little. “I do.”
“And?”
“Most are lovely. Beautiful. Wonderful. All that you deserve.”
“But?”
“There are darker paths.”
“Assuredly, you will guide me from them.”
“I will try. But it is difficult to determine exactly why those paths take shape. What event sets them in motion?” She kisses my brow and wraps her arms about me. “Sweet little Erjy, rest assured that I shall always fight to keep you from harm.”
“I am not so sweet,” I say with a teasing smile. “I am a battlewitch, remember?”
“Let me live with the illusion that you are innocent and sweet,” she mumbles.
I remain silent for her sake, closing my eyes and snuggling into her. I adore my older sister and all her complexities. In her embrace, I am loved and comforted.
Chapter 18
We are awakened by the familiars. They paw at our noses, rousing us from our deep slumber. The sky outside is lavender and gray, a new day preparing to be born. The black cat nips my fingers, and when I sit up, it rushes to the doorway. The other cats hurry after the black one, clearly expecting us to follow.
“The choice has been made,” Ágota says. “Shall we see what has been decided?”
I nod sleepily. “Let us hope they made the right decision.”
Ágota takes my hand and guides me to the rotunda. The cats dart about us, meowing for us to hurry. When we arrive, the coven is waiting for us in a circle beneath the tall pillars.
Balázs draws in a deep breath before saying, “They have agreed to cast the spell, Ágota.”