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“This is an ancient camp—one of the
oldest we claim.” Glennis’s knobbed fingers
flew over the broom handle. “Each of the
seven Great Hearths has a fire here, as do
many others.” Indeed, there were far more
than seven in the camp. “It was a gathering
place for us after the war, and since then, it
had become a place to usher in some of our
younger witches to adulthood. It is a rite
we’ve developed over the years—to send
them into the deep wilds for a few weeks to
hunt and survive with only their brooms and a
knife. We remain here while they do so.”
Manon asked quietly, “Do you know what
our initiation rite is?”
Glennis’s face tightened. “I do. We all do.”
Which hearth had the witch she’d killed at age
sixteen belonged to? What had her
grandmother done with the Crochan heart
she’d brought back in a box to Blackbeak