Celeste Moreau's POV
Blood dripped from my hand onto the crystal basin. One drop, two drops, three. The liquid sizzled as it touched the combination of herbs and bone dust.
"Now," I ordered.
My trainee stepped forward, her face half-hidden by the hood of her cloak. Her hands trembled as she added her own blood to the bowl. The combination turned from murky brown to a brilliant blue that lit up the small cave.
"The connection is strong tonight," I said, watching the blue light pulse in time with our heartbeats. "The Mother Tree must know we're coming."
"Are you sure this is safe?" she asked, her voice barely a breath.
I laughed. Nothing about magic was safe. That was the first lesson I'd taught her six months ago when she came to me desperate for help.
"Safety is for those who don't seek power," I told her. "Now focus."