Bethan’s been there enough that the various flowers and bushes had no longer fazed her. Agatha’s mum acted like the mum for everyone in their little group, since both Circe’s and Bethan’s mothers lived in their hometowns. Despite Elnora’s mum being very much in Malia, she wasn’t exactly the motherly type who baked her daughter cookies and gave her warm hugs. Selene was exactly that, which may have come as a surprise, considering she dresses like a washed-up rock star.

Selene Caris neè Elmwood was an eccentric lady and often made Bethan wonder why Agatha’s father ever married when he was such a stickler for tradition.

‘What type of plant is that?’ Kellan pointed to the red-leaf plant.

‘It’s a rowan leaf. Some people use it to cure a sore throat,’ she told him. ‘They boil it down with lemon.’

‘So, you drink it?’ he said in confirmation.

‘Yeah, basically, not much else to it.’ Bethan hummed. ‘Except some healers refuse to use it for its healing properties because it can cause a temporary loss in short-term memory if enchanted. And when used with oaken, which is pretty much in every medical potion.’

‘What happens when used with oaken?’ he asked.

Before she could tell him, she heard footsteps.

Agatha reappeared behind the partition, with a tall, lithe woman following after her.

Selene was the spitting image of her daughter despite her leather clothes and grey hair. Bethan ran toward the older witch and into a warm hug.

‘It’s been so long since any of you girls visited me,’ Selene said with a laugh. ‘I was beginning to think you all forgot about me.’

‘Never.’ Bethan was the first to let go of her embrace. ‘This is Kellan—’

‘Finch, a prince of Zakros.’ Selene waltzed toward him, like a panther stalking her prey. ‘Agatha has told me all about you.’

‘All good things, I hope.’

Selene only hummed in response; instead, she grabbed his chin and jerked his face side to side.

‘You’re prettier than what Agatha told me.’ Kellan gaped at her. ‘You’re definitely better than Tharin, that’s for sure.’

‘Mum,’ Agatha groaned.

‘Your half-brother is a handsome boy, but he has the same sour face your father had. It is worrisome.’

Kellan smirked at the comparison, while Bethan moved next to him again to nudge his arm because she couldn’t reach his face.

‘We need your help with something,’ Bethan said.

‘Ahh’—Selene pulled on the lapel of her leather coat—‘follow me.’

The three of them trailed behind her, the tassels from her jacket blowing against the draft. She led them down a glass corridor that looked out onto the First Quarter’s coastline, an odd place for a greenhouse/nursery, but the two witches didn’t seem to mind.

Selene opened two doors, and they came into a temple-like room.