Autumn of the Grimoire (Sisters Solstice, #1)

by J.L. Vampa

“She shall come,” he recited, “shrouded in black, but not of mourning…” With a continued look of astonishment, he reached out and pointed to her black skirts before looking at her face. “With eyes of the honey moon.” His disbelieving gaze remained fixed, and it was a struggle not to let her own eyes go wide. “And Autumn in her locks,” he continued, watching Mabon use his teeth to withdraw a tiny ruby leaf from where it was unknowingly tangled in her hair. “She will come, escorted by a creature of the night.” They both looked at Mabon upon her shoulder. “And a raven shall descend upon her.” The words had hardly left his lips when Sorscha’s raven swooped down from the clouds and landed on Agatha’s shoulder opposite Mabon. She kept her expression as even as her three hundred years of witch madness had taught her and met the magus’ inspecting, flabbergasted stare once more. “She will come,” he whispered. “Our Daughter of Autumn. Agatha of Helsvar.”