Page 34 of Liar Witch

“As far as I’m aware, Lady Moon hasn’t called for you to deliver her death. The only target given to a Shadow for centuries has been the Queen. Your Goddess may no longer wish for the Alchemist to die.”

“She might not. But I do. If Lily and Everett think they’re going to escape without punishment after what they’ve done, they’re sorely mistaken. I’ll ask the Lady’s forgiveness when I’ve done the deed if I must.”

Sophie surprises me by letting out a small chuckle. “You truly are a Shadow, you know. Stubbornness and vengeance all rolled into one. Like a tiny piece of your Goddess forced into immortal flesh.”

She stands, brushing imaginary dust from her dress. “If you judge their deaths necessary, I will not stop you. All I ask is that you remember the one death you are called to deliver.”

“As if I would forget. I don’t plan on letting my own need for vengeance cloud my duty. The Eagle will die.”

Or I will.

Sophie nods and turns for the stairs; but I don’t plan on letting her get away that easily.

“There is one other thing,” I call. “Elsie.”

Sophie freezes, turning back to look at me once more. “What of her?” Her tone is carefully blank, leaving no indication of her feelings on the subject.

“Your coven is treating her…”

“My coven is inmourning.” Sophie’s eyes are hard. “I have no desire to pin the blame on a child either, but you cannot say you can’t see their logic. There are stupid decisions and then there is leading an army to your doorstep.”

“Do you not think she’s blaming herself enough without your coven adding things like the threat of exile into the mix?”

“Solars protect life. We consider others before our own selfish desires. She may be young, but she’s not so young that such a mistake can be easily brushed aside. If the Sun Goddess had not marked Elsie as her future—”

She cuts off, cheeks turning pink. Her eyes round as saucers as her mind catches up with her mouth.

Too late. She can’t unsay what she just admitted anymore than I can unhear it.

Goddess, it makes so much sense.

We’re all led to believe that no one can know who the Goddesses will choose as their high priestesses. The mantle passes on to their choice, regardless of how unprepared for the role they may be.

I never realised how little sense that made before now.

With Sophie’s confession, I’m willing to bet that high priestesses know when a witch destined to join their ranks is born—just as they know when future Shadows are born. That way they can be trained discreetly.

Even Danika had plenty of one-on-one time with Glenna. She’d claimed it was down to her gift at performing exorcisms, but what if Glenna had intended to train Danika all along?

“Elsie is a future high priestess,” I whisper. “She’s the future of your people and you think that treating her like an exile—like scum—is going to help her to be the leader she needs to become?”

“There is a long way between the future and now. The Sun Goddess may change her mind.”

“Has that ever happened?”

Her silence is answer enough.

“The way your coven is treating her shames your Goddess,” I hiss. “It is beneath you to allow it to go unchecked; and if you don’t stop it, you’ll poison the remaining Solars against their future. You’ll sow a division that will never heal. Not without blood.”

“I’m perfectly capable of making the right decisions for my coven without interference from a barely-immortal Lunar.”

“No one is capable of making those kinds of decisions when they’re grieving,” I argue. “Let Elsie go with Reva. Let her discover if she was betrayed; and while she’s gone, give yourself and your coven time to heal. When she returns, perhaps everyone’s heads will have cleared and you’ll all realise how stupid it is to believe that she’s responsible.”

Sophie frowns. “Fine. Perhaps if she’s gone, the rest of us will be able to grieve in peace.”

I hate the dismissiveness in her tone, even as I understand it.

“Do you know who…”