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The white raven fluttered onto my bed, squawking and dancing in a circle. “Another round! Another round!”

“Oh, be quiet,” I groaned. I had drunk Mama’s ghost away, and I learned the name of a witch in town who would purchase one of my relics. Granted, I’d need to brew a cup of Gran’s special tea before the day was over, but I decided it had been worth it.

My head was throbbing in time to the toll of the palace bells as I pushed myself upright. “For the love of Damien!” I cursed, then wiped my sweaty brow. “Why is it so hot in here? It’s hardly morning!”

“Another round! Another round!” Della chirped again, hopping across the patchwork quilt.

I stared at her for a moment as she bobbed her head, entirely pleased with herself. Reluctantly, I let out a chuckle. “You think you’re pretty funny, don’t you?” Della nodded enthusiastically, her neck feathers puffed. “Well, laugh all you want. We will be twenty thousand gold pieces richer by nightfall, and you’ll have me to thank for it.”

Leaning over the edge of the bed, I found my bodice lying in a heap on the floor, and I immediately regretted not taking the time to hang it up. It was still damp and smelled like low tide. Dried salt was swirled over the black fabric, and the ribbons were stiff. Laying it flat on the quilt, I held my wand aloft and whispered a spell. The magickally sealed pocket that held my three demonic relics opened like a seam.

One by one, I laid the contents out on the bed: a dried rose once held by Amarielle, the Demon of Torment; a goose feather touched by Roux, the Demon of Ruin; and a piece of snowflake obsidian plucked from Dominique, the Demon of Dominion’s necklace, and given to my great-great-grandmother.

Della abandoned her performance to sidle closer, eyeing them with interest.

If Lou had the money, it would be an easy sale. Demonic relics were powerful and rare. Imbibed with the energy of a demon. They were the only way a Dark Witch could recharge their magick. Most covens shared just one. And while all relics were powerful, these three were exceptionally strong because they came from three demonic sisters who were so formidable that they were known amongst Dark Witches as the Twisted Sisters.

I lifted the black stone speckled with white spots, and a wistful smile formed on my face. At one time, my family had owned four relics. I’d already given one away to another witch. Living alone, I only needed to keep one. Two, if I wanted to be cautious. Which meant I could sell the third for a sizable price and settle somewhere quiet.

I glanced back out the window, past the rooftops and clotheslines, to where the sunlight danced on the water.

Maybe I could stay here.

Purchase a small cottage by the sea that turned me into a figure of local gossip. Living in a port city like this meant I’d always find a steady trade selling potions. I closed my eyes, imagining a line of love-sick girls queued up at my door every morning wanting beauty spells, only to return later for Gran’s tea. I’d plant a small garden. With lavender, because Gran always kept lavender, and the smell of it reminded me of running between the garden boxes as a girl, chasing the crows.

For a moment, I let myself sink into the dream: just me and Della and the sea. If I got bored, I could find other things to do. According to the duke, I could pass my time posing as the figurehead of newly commissioned ships. I opened my eyes and found his jacket hanging on the back of the door like an unwelcome guest. The smile that had been building on my lips fell. I couldn’t start a new life with intention alone.

Which relic could I bear to part with?

Della wedged herself between the rose and the feather, spreading her wings over them protectively. The gesture tugged on that wounded place inside my heart. If I was honest with myself, really honest, I didn’t want to sell them either. I’d always cherished my family’s relics; they were our most prized possessions, but recently, I’d formed a new relationship with them. Ever since I left home, they’d become the three silent members of my new coven.

Maybe that’s who I was now. Not a Kemp, but one of the Twisted Sisters.

Tears burned in the back of my throat, and I set the little stone down beside the others. No, I wasn’t one of them. And no matter how powerful they were, no one was allowed to join my family. Splitting up the sisters’ relics would diminish their power, but maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

“I have to do it,” I told Della. “We are out of money.”

She answered with a shrill, disapproving squawk, and a glare that rivaled my mother’s.

“What would you have me do?” I demanded of her. “Show me another way, and I’ll take it.”

Della just stared at me with those translucent blue eyes of hers, like she could see the hurt in my soul, but wasn’t going to coddle me. To her, these relics were priceless. They were something to treasure and protect, not trade away.

The old Cora would’ve agreed.

The one who believed my family would always be the center of my life. Who knew her children would dance around a bubbling cauldron on a cold winter’s night with their cousins. But that future had been stolen from me, and I had to learn to live without it. Everything had changed. And that meant I had to change too.

I glanced back out the small window, and wiped the corners of my eyes with the back of my hand. From here, I could hear the echo of the tide as it slapped against the low sea wall. The sound calmed my tangled thoughts.

I smoothed two fingers along her back, and Della leaned into my touch. “It’s just you and me now,” I said softly. “Which means I need enough money to take care of us.”

Removing my wand, I called to the dark magick running in my veins and summoned the small scrying crystal from my traveling bag. It flew through the air and landed in my outstretched hand.

It was time to find Lou.

Chapter 5

Échec