Chapter 7
It was mid afternoon when I came back down the path from the waterfall to the back of the meeting hall. By this hour my grandmother would surely be inside, setting up for the night ahead. But she spent more time tinkering with her mead in the cellar than the two of us did together to weave the spells.
Not that I had the first idea about how to turn honey into mead, or even what that cellar looked like. It was like my grandmother's bedroom, never explicitly forbidden, and yet not a place I felt like I was welcome just going into.
But my grandmother never went inside my room either. I guess everyone needed their privacy.
"Ingrid!"
I looked up out of what I belatedly realized had been a daze to find myself halfway across the gravel parking lot in front of the meeting hall, head
