That night, after her ritual with Enendoa to Saeas, she set up her own personal altar on the desk in her room. Using the copper pendant as a catalyst, she offered three herbs to it in the name of Morrigan, Hecate, and Odin. She did not speak out loud, for saying those names in this air felt false. But she sent her thoughts to the heavens as strongly as she could, tapping into what few powers she had left.
Morrigan, Hecate, Odin — I am trapped, I am lost, I am gone from my world. I am mortal now. You all helped me and my children once before; I ask that you do once again. Protect my wolves in my absence, please. I hope these offerings are sufficient.
Before her almost-disbelieving eyes, the herbs glowed on the pendant — and then disappeared.
That was magic if Thalaea had ever seen it.
T
