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Jay took a step to the side, getting ready to bolt, and the Maiden moved to cut him off. He recoiled.

The Mother was calm, moving closer as she spoke. “But probably the most interesting witch in my family was one who lived many, many years ago. Her name was Prudence Worthy.”

“Prudence?” Jay twisted up his mangled face, trying to understand. “My Prudence?”

“No,” the Mother shouted. “My Prudence.” She took a breath and lowered her voice. “She was chased out of her village, but not before becoming with child. That child, as it turns out, was the product of an affair with a Benandanti. And that Benandanti, responsible for so much carnage, stands now in front of his own blood, a sad creature. My own pathetic ancestor. The father of witches.”

“No.” He shook his head. “No, no, no . . .” The image of a painting came to mind—a god eating his own children. “It can’t be.”

“It can,” the Crone said. “It is.”

“Ironic that, since the only way to truly be immortal is to have descendants. And to be the one who devours them, when one craves immortality above all else?” The Mother took two steps and was now right in front of him, her eyes blazing, her breath on his raw skin. “And I am here to end it.”

Jay Christos turned. He was encircled by the Oracle, with no chance of escape. The Mother lifted the Zippo, flipped it open, and flicked it into flame.

“Seriously?” he cried. “Oh, fuck me.”

“Yes.” The Mother smiled. There were teeth in that smile. “Seriously . . . fuck you.”





Acknowledgments




Enormous thanks to my work coven: Dean Cooke, Rachel Letofsky, Rachel Kahan at William Morrow, Anne Collins at Random House, Paige Sisley, Joe Veltre, Olivia Johnson, and everyone at CookeMcDermid who keep the trains running on time.

So much love to Ben Haigh and the AMC team for believing in these witches (and this witch). A special shout-out to Gina Mingacci, who listened to me talk about this FOREVER, and then, as soon as the baby book was born, swaddled it and ran across the field to bring it home.

As always, I owe everything to my family—my kids, Jaycob, Wenzdae, and Lydea; my love, Shaun; my parents, Hugh and Joanie; and my brother, Jason. Thanks for taking care of me so I could take care of this story. Thank you to my extended family, the Georgian Bay Métis community, for your support and love and for working to keep these lands magic.

Throughout history, witches have been the stand-ins for all people who have felt “outside” or “different.” I say, fuck it—go outside, be different, be so different they have to loosen their grip on the world because you are proof there is so much beyond them. Live fully, feel it all without apology, be weird and powerful and amazing. Because ultimately, that is who this book was written for—the wild witches that no man (and no system) could ever begin to contain.

In closing, I would like to remind you that it’s always a good day to hex the patriarchy.





About the Author


CHERIE DIMALINE is a member of the Georgian Bay Historic Métis Community in Ontario. Her 2017 book, The Marrow Thieves, won the Governor General’s Award and the prestigious Kirkus Prize for Young Readers’ Literature, and was the fan favourite

for the CBC’s Canada Reads in 2018. It was also named a book of the year on numerous lists, including that of National Public Radio, the School Library Journal, the New York Public Library, the Globe and Mail, Quill & Quire, and the CBC, and was selected as one of Time magazine’s 100 best YA books of all time. It has been translated into several languages and continues to be a national bestseller

five years later. Cherie’s novel Empire of Wild became an instant Canadian bestseller and was named Indigo’s #1 Best Book of 2019. It was featured in the New York Times, The New Yorker, Goop, and the Chicago Review of Books, among other outlets. Her most recent YA novel, Hunting by Stars, was selected as a 2022 American Indian Library Association Young Adult Honor Book. She is currently writing for television,

working on a new novel, and adapting some of her works for the stage and screen.

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