The night before the Gathering, Nadia knocked on the door to her mother’s bedroom, letting herself in when she heard a muffled response from the other side. Natasha was standing on a platform in the center of the room, and Derra was standing next to her in a pair of wrinkled old linen pants, her signature square-framed glasses perched atop her nose. She was tailoring the floor-length, cobalt silk gown Natasha planned to wear to the Gathering, shortening the shoulder strap with the tap of her finger. Natasha allowed a small smile when she saw Nadia in the mirror. A peace offering.
“Hi, dear,” she said. “Is that the color you’re going with for tomorrow?” She pointed to Nadia’s hair, which she’d dyed a light pink. “I do actually think it suits you.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Oh, well would you look at the smartest witch that ever did live!” Derra exclaimed, as she had every time she’d seen Nadia since she first started school. “I always knew you were so much smarter than the others,” she said, starting on her spiel. “Even when you were just this big. How is it on the Council? And you’re looking very womanly now, very, very beautiful. You’re looking like a true witch.”
Nadia, still standing awkwardly, gave as much of a laugh as she could. “Thanks, Derra. Everything on the Council has been great,” she lied.
Natasha turned to face Nadia, which caused Derra to accidentally eliminate the dress’s strap altogether. She sucked her teeth.
“Sorry, Derra,” Natasha said distractedly. She approached Nadia and lowered her voice. “Is everything all right?”
“Can we have a second alone?” Nadia asked Derra, who was pacing around the room and muttering to herself.
“Of course,” Derra croaked. “Send a text when you’re finished. No—send a banner. I hate checking that thing.” She disappeared.
“What’s wrong?” Natasha asked as soon as Derra was gone. She lowered herself onto her bed gingerly, trying not to disturb Derra’s hard work.
“Nothing,” Nadia said. She put her hand in the front pocket of her black denim pinafore, feeling the edges of the Spherical paper. She was only able to lie convincingly because of how strongly she believed in her plan, believed in the Mothers. “Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to give you this. It’s from Aura’s mom.” She held up the note.
Natasha raised her eyebrows, then took the piece of paper from Nadia. Holding it close to her body, she watched as the glimmering message revealed itself:
Ready when you are —Thea
Something—Nadia wasn’t sure what—washed over her mother’s face, then quickly evaporated. Whatever it was, it gave Nadia no indication what the message said. But it didn’t matter. The Mothers were practicing and the Gathering was coming, and their plan would have to go forward. Even if she had to physically restrain the rest of the Council from leaving the Hollow, she would do it.
“Okay,” Nadia said. She turned to the door.
“Thank you,” Natasha called. She took a few steps toward Nadia, then stopped. “I know that must have been hard for you.”
Nadia nodded.
Natasha smiled proudly. “Let’s have a good Gathering, okay? I know you’ve worked hard.”
“Yeah,” Nadia said. She wanted desperately to have a good Gathering.