The circle had grown over the years.
Where once there had been four chairs, now there were five, with a sixth witch in training and a seventh identified among the northern packs. The seal that had nearly destroyed Morwen across two centuries of solitude was now held so lightly, divided so many ways, that no single witch ever bore more than she could carry and still live a full life beside it.
That had been the whole point. That had always been the whole point.
"Cress would be proud," Iola said one morning, as the circle settled into the round room for the day's holding. "She built this. The whole design. So no one would ever have to be a martyr again."
"She built it," Aria agreed. "And we kept building it. That is how the best things last. One person starts them, and everyone after ref
