The Witches of Eileanan by Kate Forsyth

the shape or direction storms take around here in spring." Meghan muttered and looked accusingly at Isabeau.
Isabeau found the higher Trial of Fire ridiculously easy, for all she had to do was handle the flames, which she had already done. She laughed when they told her, and conjured a ball of flame that she tossed from one hand to another. She was juggling seven balls when Seychella said with a barely suppressed smile, "Enough! I think we can say ye can handle fire!"
"I did this before, why make me do it again?" Isabeau asked, smug curiosity in every line of her body.
"Everything in its rightful time and order," the unknown witch said with a faint smile. "I think we can say ye have passed all the Trials, my bairn. Now ye must show us how ye use all o' the elemental powers. Make yourself your witch's dagger, and make it with care, for ye shall carry it for a very long time. Take the silver of the earth's begetting, forge it with fire and air, and cool it with water. Fit it into a handle of sacred hazel that ye have smoothed with your own hands. Speak over it the words of the Creed and pour your own energies into it. Only then shall ye be admitted into the Coven."
Unaccustomedly nervous, Isabeau forged herself a dagger, using the tools they gave her with dexterity and skill, and fitting it carefully to a handle of hazelwood. Her voice a little shaky, she spoke Eà's blessing over the narrow blade, then looked across at Meghan, a tired grin breaking across her face.
She had passed her Second Test! Isabeau was too tired to feel much excitement, but a certain self-satisfaction seeped through her.
Seychella spoke first. "I am concerned that Isabeau has too much pride and self-will to be admitted into the Coven o' Witches, even though she demonstrates the necessary power. I feel she is too immature. In other times, I'd say that she should spend an extra year as a novice in the Theurgia, with extra duties scrubbing floors and beating rugs, to teach her humility. However, the Theurgia is no more, and she canna have even one year there to learn the order and discipline that she needs."
The sorceress Seychella paused, and the witches fixed their wilting acolyte with a fierce eye. The tears were very near the surface again, and Isabeau's shoulders were slumped, her cheeks crimson. She was sure that Seychella was going to say she should not be accepted into the Coven, despite her success in the Tests.
Seychella waited for a moment before letting her voice ring out strongly again. "However, the number o' lassies who can pass even the most elementary challenges is dwindling fast, and Isabeau has clearly passed the Tests with flying colors, despite her conceit. I therefore recommend that she be allowed to wear her mentor's moonstone, showing she has passed the Second Test!"
Isabeau's head jerked up, her eyes glowing blue. A deep thrill ran through her, and she gazed at the four witches with excitement.
"Come here, Beau," Meghan said, and Isabeau heard the pride in her voice. She ran and knelt in front of her guardian, burying her crimson face against her lap. "How many times do I have to tell ye to do only what ye are told to do and no more!" the wood witch scolded. "Ye must learn obedience, humility and self-control!"
"Aye," Isabeau said humbly, too happy to even think of a canny comeback.
"Hold out your hand."
Isabeau complied, tears stinging her eyes as the sorceress Meghan slowly slid the moonstone off the middle finger of her right hand and slipped it onto Isabeau's. The moonstone was small and perfectly round, and set in silver smelted to resemble two protecting hands.
"Isabeau, with this ring ye are admitted into the Coven o' Witches. Ken that ye are bound to seek knowledge, and use the One Power wisely and sparely. Ken that ye have taken but the first step on a path that may be fraught with dangers and loneliness. Ken that ye are to use the One Power only to teach, to heal, to help, but never to hurt or harm, except in the defense o'