cold stones of the wall behind her, her crown
discarded by her boots.
Asterin spoke first, cutting through the
silence of the coven. “We know their every
move, every weapon. And now the Crochans
do, too. The Matrons are likely in a panic.”
She’d never seen her grandmother in a
panic, but Manon huffed a dark laugh. “We
shall see tomorrow, I suppose.” She surveyed
her Thirteen. “You have come with me this
far, but tomorrow it will be your own kind
that we face. You may be fighting friends or
lovers or family members.” She swallowed. “I
will not blame you if you cannot do it.”
“We have come this far,” Sorrel said,
“because we are all prepared for what
tomorrow will bring.”
Indeed, the Thirteen nodded. Asterin said,
“We are not afraid.”
No, they were not. Looking at the clear
lily
(lily)
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