Empty Altars by Judith Post Page A

fair." Diana had tried one lesson after another. "What more can I do?" Without the rowan groves to free the girl’s magic, Diana had started Inga’s training with the basics. They'd worked spells. Inga wrote them on parchment, then couldn't repeat them correctly. They’d memorized chants. Inga forgot them. Frustrated, Diana went to pour herself a glass of wine.
    "Are we finished for the day?" Inga asked hopefully.
    "It's still early. But let's take a break."
    Inga disappeared inside the house. Noir remained where he was, staring at Diana with unblinking eyes.
    Freya glanced at Diana with sympathy. "Is she making any progress?"
    "It's slow." Nonexistent was more like it, but that couldn't be possible. Diana searched her mind for a different approach. She looked at Noir. "Maybe we should tap into her energy first."
    The cat's gaze didn't waver.
    "Damned fur ball." Diana spent the afternoon showing Inga how to pull energy from the earth. "Feel the power flow through you," Diana coaxed.
    Nothing.
    Noir jumped on a marble bench and yawned, clearly unimpressed.
    "Let's try a tree." Diana placed her palm against an oak's trunk and let the energy flow out the fingertips of her other hand.
    Inga tried. Nothing.
    "Maybe if we found you a familiar," Diana said.
    Noir raised his head and hissed.
    Irritated, Diana challenged. "I suppose you could do better!"
    The cat closed his eyes.
    Freya looked worried. "Have you had trouble training a new witch before?"
    "No." She'd trained many. Some learned faster than others, but all of them learned.
    Freya turned to Inga. "Remind me. What exactly did Gudrun tell you?"
    Inga slumped onto Noir's bench, looking defeated. She scratched the cat behind his ears. He didn't like to be touched without permission. Diana waited for him to turn his head to bite her. He purred. Obnoxious beast!
    "Inga?" Freya asked again.
    "Sorry." She let out a sigh. "That I was destined to be shunned, and that I should wait in the hut to serve the new goddess and learn from her."
    "Learn what?" Diana had assumed magic, but as far as she could tell, the girl had no affinity for spells. She poured herself more wine and sank onto the bench opposite Inga's.
    Freya joined them. "Are you beginning to think what I am?"
    "That Gudrun had another reason for sending us Inga?" Diana remembered how the old seer had squirmed when Diana talked about teaching the girl magic, but Gudrun had never corrected her. Why? Time was precious. It's possible they'd just wasted an entire week.
    Diana frowned at Noir. "You're a familiar. Does Inga have magic?"
    The cat leapt to the ground and came to wind himself between her ankles.
    "Oh, crap! That's a no , isn't it?" Familiars could read a witch's energy. That's what Noir had been trying to tell her. Inga didn't have any.
    "What other purpose could there be?" Freya turned to study their apprentice.
    "Beats me. I don't know what else I'd teach her," Diana said. "But Gudrun knows more than she's telling. Inga's important to this battle. We just don't know how."
    Inga seemed to shrink in on herself, deflated. Voice small, she asked, "I'm not a witch?"
    "No. I'm sorry."
    "It's not that I don't try."
    "You gave it your all.” Diana laid a hand on Inga's slim one. She could hear the disappointment in the girl's voice.
    Inga blinked back tears. "It's stupid, I know, but I was hoping I was special, that I have a gift no one else in our village has." She pushed back a long strand of dark hair, revealing her swirling, blue tattoo.
    "You are special—" Diana racked her brain for something to say that would make Inga feel better, "—or Gudrun wouldn't have sent you to me."
    "How many people could live out here, all alone, and still be as resilient and positive as you are?" Freya demanded. "That alone should make you proud."
    Inga rubbed a hand across her eyes, unimpressed. "What choice did I have?"
    "That's not the point." Diana pushed herself to her feet. "Most people would give up or feel sorry for