Blood and Thorns by pinkchaosstories | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil

Chapter 15

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Frigga

Frigga showed her visitor to the garden; at least she could enjoy some of the late spring’s sunshine during what she anticipated would be an awkward visit. She struck up casual conversation about the greenery they passed by, and Rosalind was surprisingly well-educated in plant husbandry. Their home had a terrace on the roof where Victoria cultivated all sorts of herbs and florae, mostly plants to be used for her special poisons, so Rosalind’s knowledge of horticulture was above-average. As the two witches followed the cobblestone path to a secluded corner, Frigga could have almost sworn that Rosalind was enjoying themself with the easy way they spoke or how they paused every so often to enjoy a lush flower. They showed genuine interest in the herb garden and even recommended a local who specialized in mixing fertilizer that enhanced plants’ magical potency.

Frigga led them to her favourite nook, the one with the particularly lush rose bush and small fountain. It was partitioned away from the rest of the garden by some taller hedges and there was an iron bench to sit on. The private recess was partially shaded by the large willow tree, its tendrils draped over the entrance to it and once the din from the house was far away enough to be sure they were alone, Rosalind quieted, turned their eyes from her, and brushed their pale ringed fingers over a bursting red rose petal. “I apologize for losing my temper the other day,” they said softly, barely audible over the splashing of the fountain. “While I was frustrated about the situation, things have been stressful in my personal affairs. It was immature of me to lash out and I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” They looked back to her, expression tight.

Frigga smiled and met their gaze. “Thank you. I’m sorry for asking so much of you and then disregarding your expertise. I should have been more respectful.”

The ghost of a smile made its way onto Rosalind’s lips. “Thank you. Have you reviewed the notes?”

Frigga slouched onto the nearby bench with a sigh, her shoulders heavy with failure. “Yes, and I didn’t get anywhere. The penalty probably applies to both my magic and my cognition, but I haven’t found a way out that leaves either intact.” She gripped her hands together and stared into the fountain as she watched the water rippling in the pool. “I don’t know what to do.”

Rosalind glanced back to the entrance and paused. “I’ve thought it over as well.” Frigga looked back up at them, frightened to hear what would follow; their volume dropped again, barely above a whisper, “I believe there is a way to significantly reduce the damage done by the penalty.”

Frigga tilted her head and furrowed her brow. “What do you mean? ‘Reduce the damage’?”

Rosalind slowly sank next to her, though they left as much space as possible between them. Their expression was calm but their hands fiddled with their jacket sleeves. “It would be dangerous and painful, but it would likely work. At worst, the odds are about fifty-fifty, though I have reason to believe them much higher than that. At least this way you wouldn’t be risking eternal conscious suffering, just death.” The tiniest of smiles flitted across their face at their joke, something Frigga hadn’t thought they were capable of making.

“That’s incredible!” Frigga burst out as she threw her hands around the noble, earning an irritated grumble.

“Fine, yes, just let go,” Rosalind begged as they stiffened. Frigga acquiesced, and Rosalind rushed to fix their seams with agitated fingers. The softest flush had spread across the tips of their pale ears and their eyes didn’t return to hers.

“Sorry,” Frigga apologized lightly as she scooted away from them to restore their bubble. She would respect their personal space, but she wasn’t actually all that sorry.

Rosalind’s eyes darted around the garden once more before they continued. “If someone were to cast a particular siphoning spell while the penalty is triggered, the effect of the penalty would be reduced. I’ve done some related work recently, and I believe it would be effective.”

“Someone would siphon the curse’s energy while I’m being affected by it?” She confirmed warily, turning over the theory in her mind. Her own knowledge of siphoning spells was introductory, but they were definitely something Rosalind would be well-versed in as an energy worker and Frigga had no doubt of their knowledge in the matter.

Rosalind nodded. “Yes, but you should know there is a possibility the person assisting you might also be harmed; depending on how strong the contract is, the energy that would be siphoned could be quite painful to move around. It’s also possible, if the siphoner isn’t careful, that the siphoning would reduce your power and not the contract’s, but if done properly, there’s a high probability to eliminate the majority of the penalty’s effects, up to ninety-eight percent if my math is correct.”

Their theory was unconventional; Rosalind was known to approach problems in ways others might never consider, so Frigga wasn’t surprised they’d come up with this sort of plan. She would never have thought to manipulate cursed energy like this, all her ideas had centred around dissolving the spell by cancelling it out. But to channel it away while its penalty was being triggered? It sounded dangerous, and not just for herself. “But it would put someone else at risk, you said. Who would take that risk just so I can leave?” Frigga pensively looked back to the ground and then to the nearby rosebushes. They rustled in the light summer breeze, the blossoms larger than her fist. She mentally sorted through the families making up the coven, grasping for someone she could trust or who was proficient in this sort of magic who would be willing to help. Her first thought was her friend Luna who also worked with forms of energy, but Luna was close to Sapphire and Frigga couldn’t put her friend in that sort of position. The next obvious answer was to have Rosalind help, but she couldn’t ask even more of them, they’d already put themself and their family at risk for her as it was. If Sapphire found out they’d helped Frigga run away, she’d likely make Rosalind’s life a living hell. Not that they would do it, they hadn’t even wanted to help in the first place.

Rosalind stood and walked to the rose bush a few steps away, though their hands stayed buried in their pockets and their shoulders remained stiff. The golden stitching down the back of their signature jacket glistened in the summer’s light, underscoring the necromancer’s dark aesthetic against the billowing garden. Frigga’s heart sank as she watched them step away from her, and she braced herself to remain gracious for when they eventually excused themself to go home.

“I’ll do it.”

Frigga blinked. No, surely she had misheard. “Sorry?”

Rosalind’s tight posture wilted and they turned back to Frigga, their expression resigned and defeated. It was the look they wore whenever their mother drew attention to them during coven meets. “You need help so I’ll help you.”

Frigga stared, dumbfounded by the simple statement. “I don’t understand. Why?”

“Because you were right,” they said quietly, which didn’t clarify anything. Rosalind lifted a hand to their neck and rubbed at the back of it, a habit Frigga had figured out by now meant that they were stressed. The expression on their face was still muted, but their brow was pinched slightly, like they were trying to hide their reaction to a horrid medicine. “I understand what it is like to feel trapped. I used to hate my family’s magic and resent the coven for how everyone looks down on us, but as the sole Heir of my family, I thought that I didn’t have a choice.” They looked away from her again, their eyes cast upward. “It wasn’t until I returned from school and fully accepted myself that I realized I possessed the power to shape my own fate. In the end I decided to follow in my ancestors’ footsteps, to walk this path, but it’s not everyone’s path to walk.” Rosalind looked back to her. Their expression was pensive but their eyes had softened. “I would have you make that choice for yourself as I did, so if I can help you I will.”

Frigga thought back to her visit to their home and her appeal for Rosalind’s help. At the time she’d thought that Marcus’ influence had been what persuaded them to lend their aid, but Rosalind wasn’t helping because their lover had pulled puppy dog eyes; Rosalind was helping because they saw her suffering and sympathized with her. That’s why they were offering help despite the danger, extending aid at their own expense, and being more vulnerable with her than they’d ever been before. 

Frigga stood up from her place on the bench as her heart swelled with gratitude, but still she hesitated. It didn’t feel right to ask for help if it was going to cause someone else discomfort. “What if something happens to you?”

They shrugged. “Then I don’t have to deal with anymore paperwork, thank the gods.”

Frigga laughed and Rosalind smiled warmly. Frigga never thought she’d see their guard come down, but here with just the two of them, Rosalind’s walls of concrete made way for her. For perhaps the first time in one hundred and fifty years, the Thorneheart and Bloodswell families had found common ground.

The clomping of footsteps and Frigga’s name being called echoed over the garden walls. The two witches turned to the entrance just in time to see Razi round the corner. Sweat dripped liberally from her brow and slicked her shoulders, her pants were covered in mud, and she was stripping her work gloves as she entered the garden’s recess. “Thought I ‘eard somethin’ from th’ ol’ lady ‘bout a vampire on th’ grounds,” she said, her eyes sweeping over Rosalind coldly. “What’re you doin’ ‘ere, Bloodswell?”

Frigga had already rushed to Razi’s side and planted a kiss on her cheek. Razi slipped an arm around her waist possessively, but the groundswoman’s eyes stayed locked on Rosalind like they were an intruder and she the home’s guard dog. “My King,” Frigga said as she directed Razi to look at her with a palm on her cheek, “Rosalind has figured out a way to help me.”

Razi’s eyes widened and her defensive demeanour lightened. “Tha’ so?” she questioned as she looked back at the necromancer.

“Yes,” they said, seemingly unintimidated by Razi’s show of hostility, “we should be able to break the contract and keep her magic completely intact.”

“Tha’s quite th’ turn-‘round. Thought you said it was gon’ risk ‘er gettin’ stuck as a ghost or somethin’.”

“This method is different and that risk is not a factor. If we hurry, we could perform the ritual on the full moon next week.”

Razi’s suspicion didn’t alleviate, so Frigga placed her hand on her damp shoulder. “They’ll be helping me even though there’s a large risk to them too.” At that, the groundswoman sighed and some of the tension left her expression.

“Though I have a condition,” Rosalind said as their eyes turned away from the women, and once again their hands started to fidget with their jacket sleeve. “I will help you, but Marcus cannot hear of this.” Rosalind’s fidgeting hands shifted to scratch at the back of their neck. “If he did, I don’t think he’d let me put myself in danger or he’d want to be there. I can’t… I won’t put him in danger.”

Frigga looked at Razi who gave a small shrug. It was such a simple request, and Marcus would have nothing to contribute anyway. For her part, Frigga understood the desire to keep her love away from danger, but she very much doubted that Razi would let Frigga do this without her. “I can make sure Marcus isn’t here.” she said as she prompted Razi to release her. “Actually, I think we can probably distract Sapphire at the same time.”

Rosalind’s shoulders visibly relaxed as they stuck their hands in their pockets. “How?”

“I’ll ask Theodore to host us for dinner that evening. We haven’t been over since the engagement’s cancellation, so it’s overdue.”

“How long does that usually last?

“Two hours at the minimum, usually three or four.”

“Won’t you be missed?”

“I can figure out a way to stay behind. I’ve been unwell, so it won’t be difficult.”

Rosalind winced. “You’ll need your strength for this.” Their eyes flashed up to Razi. “You’ll have to ensure she’s taken care of until then.”

Razi scoffed. “Tha’s my job anyway.”

Rosalind nodded. “It would be helpful if you were to keep us safe during the ritual too. Is that something you would consider?”

“Y’didn’t ‘av t’ ask. ‘Course I’m gon’ be there t’ keep ‘er safe.”

To Frigga’s surprise, Rosalind smiled the tiniest smile before looking back to her. “Where should we go to start planning?”

Razi had to return to her task, re-weatherproofing the loading bay and garden shed, so she hesitantly left the two witches to return to the home by themselves. She didn’t question them further, but judging by the way her eyes lingered on Rosalind her apprehension about them hadn’t alleviated even with Frigga’s assurance. After Razi disappeared, Frigga led Rosalind to a rarely-used parlour on the opposite side of the house to Sapphire’s office and locked the door behind them.

“I think,” Rosalind said as they sunk onto the small sofa opposite the armchair, “we should aim for the full moon. You said the contract was performed on the new moon?”

Frigga sat in the armchair with a huff. “Yes, but that doesn’t leave a lot of time to prepare.”

“It doesn’t, but I already have a good idea of what will be needed so four days should be enough. We’ll need the extra lunar boost, I anticipate Sapphire’s spell to be quite a powerful one. Where did it take place?”

Frigga rubbed at the brand on her arm and watched as Rosalind brought out a small date-book bound in leather with a pen attached to its spine from their jacket. “She brought me to the meeting room.”

They muttered a curse under their breath as they started taking notes. “That means we’ll have to do it here.”

“With Sapphire at dinner, that shouldn’t be a problem should it?”

Rosalind glanced up at her, their eyes narrowed with contemplation. “It would have been easier for me to prepare if I could have hosted it in my own ritual space and it means everything will have to be done immediately before.” They took down a few more notes. “At least with the mercurial retrograde finished, we’ll have that advantage. Do you know when the moon will be fullest that night?”

“About 6:45 to 8:15 or so. I could look it up, if you need.”

They waved her off. “Will that coincide well with the dinner plans?”

“It should.” Frigga sighed. “With any luck Theodore will start talking about his most recent project because he just talks so much.”

Rosalind chuckled. “And loudly.”

Grinning, Frigga fought the temptation to needle them about their need to get used to it if they were seeing Marcus. “He’s a nice man, though.”

They didn’t respond, opting instead to return to their note-taking. “It would be best to start the ritual at 6:45, then. Will you be able to get her out of the house for six? Earlier if possible.”

“I should. She always likes to have an hour before dinner and at least an hour after it, so if she leaves for 5:30, she won’t be home before 8:30.”

“Perfect.”

“Do you think the circle will be complicated?”

“Possibly. I intend to use the symbols on your brand as a base. May I see it?” Frigga held her arm out to give Rosalind a clear view. They peered over the symbols, flipped to a new page in their book, and started drawing them with remarkable accuracy. “What is this?” they asked, pointing to the centre sigil.

“Sapphire’s personal sigil.”

“And this?” They pointed to a smaller one just beneath it.

“Mine.”

They nodded. “Once this is done with, I’ll make sure to burn this,” Rosalind reassured.

“I know. I trust you.”

The way Rosalind looked at her upon hearing those words made Frigga wonder if they’d ever heard them before. The expression was much subtler than it might be on anyone else, but their lips were parted, their eyes had widened, and their breath had faltered. It lasted for only a second before they looked back to their notes. “Thank you,” they murmured.

“Thank you, Rosalind.”

They just continued writing, their ruby chandelier earrings swaying slightly as they copied the brand into their notes. Once finished, Rosalind looked over the entirety of it with vague familiarity. “It’s not as complex as I thought it would be,” they said. “I told you earlier that the odds would be fifty-fifty, but with this it’s probably closer to eighty-twenty. Sapphire is powerful, but this,” they pointed to the sigil at the top of the brand in their copy, “was not the best decision on her part. Lucky for us, it weakened the overall strength of the spell.”

“Why would she do that?”

“I don’t know. It would have been better for her to use an angelic symbol. I would have.”

“That’s probably why. She hates working with angels. Too pedantic, she says.”

Rosalind’s lips thinned into a line that was definitely hiding a smirk. “Then that makes sense.” Their brows lifted with mirth. “Out of all the spirits she might find pedantic, I find it ironic that Sapphire thinks angels are the worst. She should try working with the Otherworld’s fae spirits.”

Frigga laughed because Rosalind would think so. “No, I think that sort of work is best left to your family. I was curious, though, how is your energy work related to spirits and such? I don’t really see 'energy manipulation’ and ‘necromancy’ as being all that related.”

“You’re not alone, but necromancy is basically interaction with a specific type of energy, or types. Death energy, spiritual energy, our souls are their own sort of energy as well, so learning how to manipulate magic in its purest form is an essential building block.”

“I thought the soul couldn’t be manipulated with magic?”

“Not when it’s grounded. When untethered, a soul can be used like any other kind of magic, though it is much less predictable. Depending on who you deal with, a soul may be less than happy to co-operate.”

Frigga winced. “I don’t know how I’d feel if someone were using my soul to scrub a floor.”

The necromancer gave a single, understanding nod. “Soul-fuelled magic isn’t meant for such mundane tasks. Usually it’s for larger things such as long-term spells. In theory a soul could power a spell permanently, though I have never seen such a thing done successfully.” They looked back to their date-book. “Anyway, I would appreciate more in-depth information about the moon phases and, if possible, might I see the tome with the older version of the spell? You said it was in your family’s vault, so if not, your notes from the other day would be-“

“I’ll go get it!” Frigga said, cutting their concession off because she wasn’t going to keep any information from them. If it was going to help, Rosalind could have anything they wanted. “We also have some books on the celestial entities my family interacts with, do you think that could help too?”

Rosalind’s brows shot up and they hesitated. “Aren’t those meant to be kept secret?”

“I don’t care.”

They looked back to their date-book with a thoughtful frown. “Then, yes, those would be very helpful.”

Rosalind and Frigga in Frigga's Garden.

Rosalind

Frigga left the room and closed the door behind her, so Rosalind turned their attention back to their notes. If they could triangulate a counter to the Jupiter-Mercury trine-enforced protection, the rest of the spell was easily understood and manipulated, though they’d have to consult their books at home to be sure. They started mulling over some possibilities when the door slid open and Razi Wood walked in.

“Where’d Frigga go?” she asked as she sat in the armchair Frigga had vacated.

Rosalind looked at her vacantly but then looked back at their book. “She’s gone to retrieve reference material.”

Razi nodded once, but the tense line of her slick shoulders told Rosalind her distrust of them hadn’t dissipated.“So, you really think you know wha’ you’re doin’?” she asked, her pessimism saturated every syllable.

Rosalind ignored her tone and inverted the formula in front of them. “I’m confident that I do.”

“’S all pretty convenient for you.”

Rosalind paused their calculations and internally sighed because they wished that, in some distant reality, people would stop suspecting them of what Razi was about to accuse them of. At least the woman in front of them was going to say it to their face, they appreciated that. “In what way is any of this convenient, Miss Wood?”

Razi scoffed. “Knock it off, y’know what I mean. You ‘anded your ol’ lady over easy as nothin’, an’ now you got ‘er job years before anyone expected.” Rosalind finally lifted their eyes and saw she wasn’t as angry as she sounded. Her posture was almost relaxed with the way she leaned back in her chair and had a booted foot rest atop a knee. “Now you’re gettin’ Frigga out of th’ picture and you’ve lined up ‘er ex-fiancé? You’re better at this than your mum ever was.”

That was a first. Being accused of being better at social manipulation than their mother was something Rosalind never thought they’d hear. They sat up straight as they gathered their composure to deal with this soon-to-be-tired allegation. “You’re right to be suspicious, I don’t blame you.”

Razi crossed her arms and frowned. “Not gon’ defend yourself?”

Rosalind shrugged. “I have nothing to prove, Miss Wood. I’m here to help a friend, that’s all.”

She was silent for a while, and she kept looking at them as if by staring she could discern the truth of their intentions. Rosalind was used to the look, their motivations had been scrutinized time and time again, but after a few breaths, Razi relaxed with a small huff. “I hope tha’s true. I trust Frigga t’ know wha’ she’s doin’ and she believes all tha’s coincidence.”

“I’ll do my best,” Rosalind offered in what they knew would be an insufficient attempt to reassure the woman. “This is complex magic, but I’ve been working with similar spells for a long time so I’m optimistic.”

“It better work, Bloodswell.” Razi said by way of warning, and Rosalind wondered how far she’d go for Frigga. Frigga was obviously willing to risk everything for her freedom, something they hadn’t thought her capable of mere days ago, but Rosalind didn’t know Razi at all. Judging by her physical condition, any threats she made would be more than achievable and she was probably the type to follow through.

“I won’t be leaving this house in one piece if it doesn’t, will I?”

To Rosalind’s surprise, Razi was caught off-guard by the statement. She leaned forward and held up her hands. “I’m not gon’ fuckin’ kill ya, relax.”

“I would not be so forgiving were I in your position.”

Razi’s expression turned from disturbed to cynical, and with a joking tone she said, “Sayin’ you’d kill for Goldie, eh?”

“Without hesitation.”

Razi didn’t answer right away. She hadn’t expected Rosalind to be so serious, clearly, but there was nothing they wouldn’t do for Marcus. After a potent pause, her surprise gave way to something much more resigned. “Ya might have your legs on backward, at a minimum,” she conceded.

It was almost a relief to hear it. “I respect that,” said Rosalind as they turned their attention back to their notes. Before they got very far, the door opened again.

“Razi!” Frigga quietly sang, “What are you doing here?”

“Jus’ needed a break. Thought I’d come see wha’ chicken scratch you two got goin’ on and ‘ide from Gert for a second.”

“You’ve been working so hard, I’m sorry Sweetie,” Frigga said as she closed the door behind her and sat on the sofa next to Rosalind.

“’S’alright.”

“Here,” Frigga said as she placed a small stack of journals on the coffee table in front of them, “these are all the notes I could think of to bring that might be useful. This is the one that has the old spell in it.” She opened the top book and angled it for her guest to review. “Let’s see, it was further in. No. No.”

As Frigga flipped through the book, Rosalind looked back up to Razi who was watching them like she suspected they’d steal some sort of valuable trinket if she took her eyes off them. They couldn’t imagine how it must feel to watch as Frigga prepared to undergo a dangerous ritual without understanding anything about it. Razi didn’t like them, that was more than fair because Rosalind hadn’t been a great host the other day, but they hoped that their actions would prove that she could trust them like Frigga did. They nodded to her slightly, acknowledging the woman’s struggle and promising to take care of her lover, and turned their attention back to the notes in front of them.

As the visit drew to a close, Rosalind made sure to stress to Frigga that she needed to take care of her health as she would need to be as magically potent as possible. The woman looked slightly better than she had the other day, but not by much. Frigga’s promise that she would was quickly followed by Razi’s promise that she would, which Rosalind found endearing. By the time they were in their carriage home, they had a list of tasks to complete which was going to mean pulling twelve-hour work days again. They’d just gotten their estate’s emergencies under control and had finally been able to end their days in time for dinner, though Marcus’ presence in the home had given them even more incentive to finish their work in a timely manner.

How they were going to keep this from him, Rosalind wasn’t sure. He wasn’t even remotely literate when it came to magic, so they were pretty sure they could do it despite the man’s intuition. He wasn’t staying tonight, Rosalind was sure they wouldn’t have been able to make themself come to Thorneheart Manor if he was, and they wouldn’t be seeing him tomorrow either. The two of them had planned to visit again the day after, and Rosalind had no intention of cancelling on him, but what of the night before the full moon?

 

Perhaps they shouldn’t have, but Rosalind indulged themself and asked Marcus to stay over the night before the ritual as well. They’d made sure to get as far ahead as they could, though their preparation still had them working past dinner. Marcus was so understanding when the work made an appearance at the dinner table, though they thought he’d started to suspect something when they’d brushed off his interest in their work; Rosalind was formulating the recipe they’d need for the ritual chalk when Marcus had peeked over their shoulder, but they’d dismissed it as something they had to do for the ridiculous and entirely unnecessary Head of Household Succession ceremony Sapphire insisted on performing. His pause was pertinent, but Marcus had let it go despite not being convinced. They hated lying to him, but it would only be for a short time. They would tell him everything after.

Probably.

Over dinner, Marcus mentioned that he was seeing Sapphire and Frigga the next day for dinner so he’d be going home the next morning. They’d barely responded because their mind kept spiralling, rehashing the plan, revisiting contingencies, and envisioning all the horrifying ways the ritual could go wrong. Having him near had tamed the worst of Rosalind’s fear, but it didn’t keep their hands from trembling as the time drew nearer.

As Marcus prepared to leave the next morning by gathering his things from around their bedroom, Rosalind sat in their armchair next to the window and flipped through a book they’d come to rely on during their studies on energy work. It wasn’t that they expected to find something new but that the book itself was familiar and grounding. The feeling of the old paper on their fingers and the traces of their mother’s energy peeling off it dulled their nerves, and they got lost in the memory of when Victoria had passed it onto them. They’d been about to go to school and the volume had been a companion of sorts to them during their time away.

Wait, Marcus had just said something to them. Rosalind looked up to him from their book. “Hmm?”

“I should have a set of my things here so I don’t have to do this every time.” He looked at his host, a smile on his face though his brow was knit together somewhat.

“Oh,” Rosalind replied absently with a slight nod and looked out the window. An image flashed through their mind of what might happen if, gods forbid, Marcus got in the way of the ritual, and their stomach churned slightly.

As their mind played that horrifying visual over and over, Rosalind was startled by Marcus gently tugging the book from their hand. He set it on their side table, and pressed a kiss onto their knuckles. His lips were so warm against their chilled hands, Rosalind couldn’t stop staring at him but winced when they realized how obviously they were trembling. Marcus noticed it too, and when his eyes opened and looked into theirs Rosalind saw his worry. After a quiet moment he spoke, his voice quiet and sad, “Please, what’s going on? What are you not telling me?”

Rosalind cursed internally and looked away from him once more. They had tried to keep the walls up, walls that had been indestructible for years to everyone except this man in front of them. He seemed to not even be aware there were walls these days. Rosalind’s heart begged them to tell him the truth, the warmth of his hand on their’s made the urge all the stronger. “I…can’t tell you, Marcus.”

His worry took on an urgent tone, his brow knit and his hand’s hold on theirs tightened slightly. “Why not?”

Rosalind screwed their eyes shut. “I can’t tell you. I’ll tell you tomorrow, I promise. I need you to trust me.”

Marcus didn’t reply immediately, and Rosalind thought he would keep pressing and try to make them tell him anyway. Their shoulders tensed, their teeth ground. But instead he grabbed their other hand, both of their hands were more obviously trembling now, and placed another kiss on their forehead. “I do trust you.”

Rosalind released the breath they’d been holding and pulled Marcus in for a hug, relieved he was letting it go. “Thank you, My Love.”

Razi

Frigga arranged to go on a walk on the afternoon before the ritual, and Razi was relieved to have a moment together before the insanity. The groundswoman led the two of them to the forest’s edge where they’d visited on their very first afternoon together. They sat in silence while enjoying the warmth of the early summer sun and the soft breeze that wafted over the aroma of the nearby fields sweet peas. While Frigga had tried to explain what was going to happen the other day, it was all still too confusing for Razi to be comfortable with the plan. Magic was one of those things she never thought she’d ever find remotely relevant to her, so Frigga may as well have been explaining how to raise the dead. Which Razi wasn’t sure if that was possible or not. While Razi was doing her best to be strong, she was still so terrified.

“You better survive, Frigga,” Razi said tensely, ripping out a nearby weed and tearing it with absentminded fidgeting. Better this than trying to whittle something and slicing part of her thumb off because she was distracted.

Frigga smiled sadly. “I’ll do my best, but you know I have to do this.”

Razi nodded. “Yeah, an’ I’m ‘appy you’ve a chance. ’S just you people and your magic are terrifying.” Frigga just chuckled and nodded in reply. Razi tossed the shreds of plant matter before resting her hands on bent knees solemnly. “I feel I’ve pushed you int’ this,” she confessed with a wavering voice.

The wind shivered through the trees. Frigga reached for Razi’s hand and squeezed. “Honestly?” She looked into Razi’s eyes. “If you weren’t in my life, I probably wouldn’t be doing this so it’s a good thing you are. I always thought you were the embodiment of freedom, and you inspire me to fight for my own.”

Razi pulled Frigga into a hug so abruptly that both lost their balance. They fell in a pile, Frigga on top of Razi’s chest. The witch giggled as she moved to get up, but then Razi held her fast so Frigga settled down and pressed her ear to Razi’s heart.

Razi wished they could stay like this longer, wished she could hold this tiny woman in her arms, and wished that the only thing the witch needed protection from was pirates and werewolves, not shitty aunts and shifty vampires. “I wish I could do more t’ ‘elp you,” she admitted. “I feel so useless.”

Frigga gripped at Razi’s shirt hem in return. “You are invaluable, My King.”

No more talking, not right now. Words meant nothing when their whole world could fall apart in a few hours. They held each other, softly weeping for each other, and for the first time in years, Razi whispered a prayer in her heart: if there was a god that could hear her, Razi begged for Frigga to be kept safe and this insane, incomprehensible plan to go smoothly.

As they rounded the last corner on their walk back to the house, Frigga pulled out a small vial of a potion she had crafted the night before and downed it; the witch had explained earlier that it would temporarily give her an elevated temperature to make her “sudden illness” appear as convincing as possible. It wouldn’t actually make her feel sick, but it would make her feel hot to others’ touch. Once the vial was drained, Razi let Frigga walk ahead of her about five paces, but that didn’t stop Doris from giving Razi the evil eye from the the veranda where she was waiting to pick up Frigga. Her charge ignored the look and made idle small talk about how warm the weather was today and how she was looking forward to seeing her dear friends again in her usual amicable, sweet manner. Frigga was a good actor.

Razi went back to the kitchen and looked over the day’s notices. It was an average day and there were fewer staff members here in the evening because the family was going to be out. Stephan would be going with Sapphire, Noel and the other kitchen and laundry hands had already gone home, so it was just Gertrude and Doris. Doris was upstairs with Frigga, and Gertrude was likely with Leland getting him ready. After that, Frigga had promised to take care of Doris, and Gertrude would be in her office working on the servant’s payments and finalizing the home’s weekly supply order, so now it was just a matter of waiting which was maddening and every tick of the clock clanged in Razi’s ear. 

It was 4:30, Sapphire was due at the Magnus-Monroes by 5:30 which meant she would be leaving in about half an hour. Rosalind would arrive shortly after 6:00, allowing enough time to set up the space, and at 6:43 the work would commence. Hopefully Frigga would be free from her contract by seven.

As Razi reviewed the roster, Doris rushed into the kitchen and asked for some ice water and chamomile for Frigga who had “fallen ill and would be staying behind”. Razi said nothing but set out to gather the items requested when Stephan walked into the kitchen.

“Miss Wood, Lady Thorneheart requires you.”

Well, shit. Razi fought to keep her expression neutral while her heartbeat lurched. Why was she being summoned? She hadn’t accounted for this, and hopefully this didn’t set the schedule back too far. “Yeah, one sec.”

She finished grabbing the items for Doris, hung her apron on its peg, and followed Stephan to Sapphire’s study. She’d been avoiding the room like it was contagious ever since Frigga’s breakdown, but she hadn’t liked the room before either. She entered the office, and Stephan promptly left, closing the door behind him. Razi kept her posture straight and expression neutral while she trained her eyes forward, though she avoided looking at her employer directly. “You called for me, ma’am?”

Sapphire was standing at her window, but Razi sensed something was off. The light orbs darkened, the room was colder than the rest of the house, and Sapphire’s hands were clasped together in front of her so tightly her knuckles were white. She was usually an intimidating presence, that was for sure, but the energy coming off the woman as she turned to look at Razi was…

Violent.

“Miss Wood,” Sapphire took a few steps towards Razi but stopped to stand at her desk instead. Her voice was sharp, sharper than Razi had ever heard before. “My niece seems to be ill. She claims heat exhaustion. You had her outside for quite a while today, I was informed.”

“Yes ma’am. She requested I accompany ‘er on ‘er nature walk, as usual.”

Sapphire flipped through one of the pages on her desk briefly and silence flooded the room until it threatened to suffocate, though every so often Razi could swear she heard a buzz of electricity or see an electrical charge flash around the lady’s feet. 

When she spoke, her affect iced over. “As you are aware, the Magnus-Monroes are dear friends of ours. It was important to Frigga she be there this evening. And now… she’s suddenly too ill to go.”

“I’m sure she’s upset, ma’am. How can I help?”

Sapphire scowled, her icy blue eyes narrowed with hatred and her anger buffeted the air like a hail storm. “You can help by ending your inappropriate behaviour towards Frigga, Miss Wood.” Razi’s blood ran cold as Sapphire approached her. “I’ve been tolerant, far too tolerant because I see Frigga loves you dearly. Maybe she thought she could hide it, but I know that girl better than she knows herself. I told you to stop waiting on her, and yet you were with her all afternoon? This is your final warning. I have done everything for her, have given her everything, so for someone like you to put it all in jeopardy is unacceptable and it must stop immediately. I asked you nicely last time, but you will not get a next time.”

Razi took a deep breath. She needed to worm her way out of this gently. This could end badly and Frigga was relying on her to be there tonight. “Ma’am, I meant no ‘arm,” she responded slowly. “I care deeply for your niece.”

Sapphire snorted with derision. “Of course you do,” she chided. “And I’m sure you care deeply that leeching off our family like a parasite would set you up for the rest of your life. It’s clear to me she will not end this stupidity.” She took a few steps closer to Razi who kept her sight solidly on the floor ahead of her and her face as blank as possible despite the pounding of her pulse. Sapphire continued. “I have nothing against you personally, Razi, and out of respect for your father I have been patient. He was a wonderful man and an excellent worker. You have also been a good worker until now. I’ve done my best to salvage this situation, tried to pull you away from her tactfully, gave you the opportunity to do the right thing.” Her voice lowered into a hiss, the promise of pain saturating every word. “But my patience is gone.” She stood a mere step away from Razi, who dared not look her in the eye. The air was full of electric static jolts that peeled off Sapphire like a quiet lightning storm. “This is your last chance to do right by Frigga and our family.  If you so much as look at Frigga again, not only will I fire you, but trust me when I say you won’t have to worry about your future employment options ever again. Am I clear?”

Razi unclenched her jaw and squared her shoulders against the heavy threat. Every cell in her body was telling her to run out of this room, but Razi knew she needed to keep calm and act obedient so that Sapphire felt safe to leave for the evening. She swallowed. “Understood, ma’am.”

Sapphire glared with an intensity Razi had never experienced. She just wanted out, she wanted to leave desperately. Every second alone with this woman she was in danger. “Get out of my sight,” Sapphire spat, abruptly turning back to her desk. “And stay in the kitchen tonight, or better yet out of the house. Visit one of your tramps.”

“Yes ma’am,” Razi bowed before backing up and leaving the study. Somehow she had done it. When she closed the door behind her, she let out a sigh of relief; she was lucky to have gotten out of that alive, and she wasn’t going to tempt fate so she did as she was told and headed back to the kitchen.

At 5:00 on the dot, Sapphire left the house.

 

As soon as the carriage was out of the driveway, Razi sprinted up the stairs to Frigga’s room to find Doris gathering up the dishes from the tea and ice she brought earlier and Frigga reading in bed. The attendant saw her and frowned. "“Wood! You’re not supposed to be here!” she hissed, “The Lady told you to stay downstairs!”

Razi bristled at Doris’ audacity to think she had any right to tell her what she should or should not be doing, but before she could respond with a smart remark, she was interrupted. “Thank you, Doris,” Frigga said with an authoritative tone Razi didn’t hear from her often, “but you’re dismissed for the evening.”

“But Miss!”

Now, Doris."

Doris hesitated before curtseying politely and exiting the room, closing the door behind her. Frigga shot from the bed and ran to Razi before tugging her down for a kiss, full and warm and passionate. She tasted of chamomile, her lips soft with balm, Frigga was kissing Razi like she’d just gotten back from war and Razi kissed her back like they were about to go to war. “I heard my aunt summoned you to her office,” Frigga whispered in between kisses.

“Yup,” Razi chuckled as she pulled back, “I’m definitely gettin’ fired tonight.”

Frigga rushed to change into something more suitable for working magic. Razi had seen the witch’s ritual dress once or twice from a distance, though never up close. To see its detail was an experience; a sleeveless, dark navy-blue dress with a full, gauzy skirt that was decorated with hand-beaded gold stars and tied at the waist with a sparkling gold sash. It suited her much better than her birthday dress, its celestial pattern mirrored Frigga’s freckles and sparkled like her eyes. When she was dressed, Frigga sat on the vanity stool and Razi pulled her hair back into a braided low bun to get it out of her face. It was 5:15 by the time she’d finished, and they needed to get moving because Rosalind had warned Frigga the circle they’d be using required a lot of space and time for the actual drawing of it, so the room needed to be completely clear before Rosalind arrived.

The two women rushed to the room, relieved to find the entire floor completely void of people. It was a bit messy with materials for Rosalind’s succession and Frigga’s induction, so they set to dragging everything out into the hallway, mindful to not block the doors. When a knock at the front door echoed at 5:58, the room was empty, and Razi set off with a sigh to collect their guest of honour.

Frigga

Frigga’s stomach flipped with the suddenly acute awareness she might not make it through this. A number of vivid images from her nightmares over the past few days jumped out of her memory, but she calmed herself with a slow breath; she was prepared because no matter what happened, whether or not she had magic or even her life by the end of the night, she knew she’d rather die free than live as someone else’s doll. But this was going to work, Frigga felt it deep in her soul. She’d felt it so strongly that she’d packed a bag just in case they needed to leave in a hurry.

She took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling; golden constellations slowly drifted across it and reminded her of what she was leaving: the protection of her family and the familiarity of Honeyshore. She looked around the room nervously, her fingers brushing over her mother’s necklace at her neck. Would this be the last time she would be doing magic in this house?

Razi returned with Rosalind who was also in their ritual attire, fitted black slacks and a sleeveless tunic with folds forming a ribcage down the back under their usual coat. Frigga ran to embrace them, and to her surprise they embraced her warmly back. “Thank you, thank you so much! This means everything to me.” She knew she sounded unhinged, but there was no other way for her to convey how true that was.

When Frigga released them, they asked, “Are you absolutely certain you want to do this?”

Rosalind was tense and trembling softly, but Frigga did not remark on it; she was sure, without the slightest shadow of doubt. “Let’s get started.”

Rosalind stripped their jacket, which Razi took out of the room, took out the blueprints for the ritual’s circles from the bag they’d brought, and gave a copy to Frigga. “Clear?”

It was much simpler than she’d expected, but one small mis-mark could spell certain failure and Frigga knew this design hadn’t been easy to manufacture. She traced each sigil with a fingertip and smiled at the angelic symbol at the north-most point. “Mostly, but what is this doing here?” she asked as she pointed to the bottom-most sigil.

Rosalind peered at her copy and one of their eyebrows quirked slightly. “The resurrection sigil of Zuriel?”

“Yes.”

“I anticipate the contract’s energy to be quite destructive. As I’ll be channelling its energy through my body to funnel it into the crystal, I’ve added this as a counter-balance. It’s for my protection. We’re going to be making a cursed item with your contract’s wild energy as its fuel, and if I falter the entire ritual will fail.”

Frigga tilted her head. “A cursed item?”

The corner of their lip tugged in a shadow of a smirk. “Yes, and I’d feel very sorry for someone if it ever falls into unsuspecting hands. It’ll be quite nasty.” Frigga’s face must have done something to clue her companion in that she hadn’t found their joke funny, because they hastily added, “I’ll be bringing it home so that won’t happen, don’t worry.”

They set off, marking the dark wood flooring with chalk Rosalind had made special that morning. The circle was one of the largest she’d ever drawn for just two people because it had nine sigils within it. Most of the individual elements were familiar, but never had precision been more important and no mistakes were allowed.

They stood back from the markings on the floor, inspecting it critically. While Rosalind walked the perimeter to look it over one last time, Frigga’s nerves began to sing. She went through the order of events to ground herself: before the actual ritual they would need to cleanse the space and bring up a circle of protection. Then Frigga would formally renounce the contract, cut through the brand on her arm, and then the hard part would begin. 

When Rosalind made it back to Frigga, completing their inspection, they prompted Razi to come near. “It shouldn’t take long,” they began, “but once Frigga triggers the spell and I start funnelling energy, we cannot be interrupted under any circumstance.”

Razi nodded. “Gotcha. I made sure nobody’ll be comin' up ‘ere already.”

Rosalind looked to the door. “It would be best if you stood in the hallway so you can see anyone that’s coming. I understand you want to be in here but, practically, it would be more strategically beneficial to have that line of sight.”

Razi’s eyes narrowed with an intense frown. She was still not convinced of their intentions. But Rosalind was right, she would be more effective just outside the door. Razi’s eyes met Frigga’s and they were filled with conflict. Frigga drew in close and placed a hand on her cheek. “I’ll be fine, Sweetie,” she said, trying to offer the comfort Razi needed. The woman’s untrusting gaze flickered up to Rosalind.

Rosalind met her gaze, and Frigga saw they weren’t as uncomfortable under the scrutiny as she thought they’d be. Instead, they were looking at the women with compassion. “I promise,” they said seriously as they offered their hand, “I will do my best to ensure she stays safe. I know you have no reason to trust me and plenty of reasons to be suspicious, but on my honour as the head of my family, I swear to you: I will do everything in my power to help her.”

Razi kept staring at them and her mouth tightened into a thin line. Her suspicion still had her hesitating, and Frigga wasn’t sure what she’d do. Whether or not she trusted Rosalind, Razi didn’t really have a choice, but she surprised Frigga when, after a tense moment, she shook their hand solidly and said, “Please just make sure you both make it,” Satisfied for the time being, Razi held Frigga tightly and they shared one last kiss as a final plea to one another to be safe. When they parted, Razi took up her spot on guard in the hallway.

“Shall we?” Rosalind offered an arm to Frigga, and they walked her to the north-side of the circle where she knelt down and placed her hands just outside the chalk circle they had drawn together. Rosalind took up their spot directly opposite her and mirrored her stance.

It was 6:40.

It was time to begin.

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