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Hopefully, that eases once I lay Grand-Mère to rest.
Adelaide finishes plucking petals and offers me a smile. “You can grab a coffee on the way, but it’s nearly noon, so we need to go. The others should already be at the cemetery.”
I’m not sure there is any amount of caffeine that could give me the boost I need, but this is Grand-Mère’s moment, not mine.
“Come on, Josie,” Elara calls from the top of the staircase when I don’t follow. “The sun waits for no witch.”
* * *
I stand with my fellow witches in the musty darkness of an ancient mausoleum, two dozen lit candles casting flickering shadows on the walls as we get in position.
The warm rays filtering in through the opening in the ceiling above feel good on my skin, and I turn my face towards the energizing power as I try to calm my nerves. With five minutes until midday, the few wispy clouds overhead clear the sky and give the sun the stage for what comes next… whatever that is.
I’ve never been a part of any ritual, let alone during the giving of the last rites. I’m not sure what to expect. More than that, I’m not sure I’m ready for this. Not just to join my sisters in this ritual, but to say goodbye.
It all feels very final.
“Places, ladies. The sun has nearly reached its apex.” Adelaide’s voice bounces off the stone walls of the old mausoleum around us. She raises open palms above her head, the long, billowing sleeves of her dress falling down her arms as she ushers in the sun.
I take my place in the circle surrounding my grandmother’s cloth-wrapped body lying on the raised stone altar surrounded by the herbs and flowers Elara gathered earlier. The moment I join my sisters, the tolling of the clock tower begins in the distance, signaling that—ready or not—the time has come to let her go.
Adelaide starts things off by joining hands with Elara and the witch on her other side, completing the circuit. “We are here to honor the passing of our beloved sister, Claudette Josephine Dumont, a powerful witch who dedicated her life to the craft and the betterment of the coven. Her physical conscience may be gone from this world, but her spirit lives on. Today, we call upon her to join us once more as we guide her back to the loving arms of Mother Gaia.”
As the High Priestess speaks, I’m amazed at the power coursing through me.
I’ve always been able to light candles with a mere thought or call things to my hand—small things like that, but this is a next-level connection to my magic that I’ve never felt before.
Is this what it’s like to be part of a coven?
It’s exhilarating.
I swear I could short circuit an entire airport with how charged up I am right now. Not that I would do that… on purpose.
The chanting starts, and Elara squeezes my hand when the suddenness of it makes me flinch.
I knew this part was coming—Adelaide told me not to worry about joining in, just to channel my energy and support the others—but I studied Latin and can pick out a few words here and there.
“Nos sumus terra,” the Sun Witches chant in unison.
We are the earth.
“Sumus aquam.”
We are the water.
“Sumus caeli.”
We are the air.
“Sumus ignis.”
We are the fire.
The chant repeats, and this time I join in, my voice blending with the others as the energy amplifies.
The scent of lemon balm fills my nose. It’s familiar and a little out of place in the dank mausoleum. My grandmother always smelled like lemon balm and smokey incense and I inhale the comforting scent deeply.
Something catches my attention in the corner of my eye, and when I lift my gaze, beyond the flames, I see Grand-Mère. She is transparent and fuzzy, as if I’m viewing her on the pixelated screen of an old-timey television, but it’s her, standing not four feet away.
