The Bitterwine Oath

by Hannah West

  “What happened?” I asked, even though a part of me already knew.

  “The first victim was Shadowed,” Vanessa said.

  “Ryan Ashland.” Lindsey met me with a damp towel. “We were distracted by the snooping tourists and missed him sneaking out to the cabin with a girl.”

  I pressed my face into the towel, holding back a scream of frustration. Grandma Kerry had been so stingy with information. Why hadn’t she told me that my magic would twist my arm, force my hand, send me staggering here even after she had told me to stay away?

  What if I had done what the Wardens asked the night they first invited me here? Yes, I would have defied my dead grandmother’s wishes, and that was nothing to take lightly, but maybe I could have protected Ryan Ashland.

  “I want to help,” I said, my voice hoarse. “And I don’t think I have a choice.”

  SEVENTEEN

  Vanessa was ready for me at the Communion table. From twin boxes with velvet lining, she retrieved the collyrium and the engraved chalice. Her brow was sweaty, and a streak of blood stained her neck. They’d already faced Woodwalkers tonight.

  With the warm towel, I wiped the blood from my face and scrubbed vigorously at my arms.

  “We just need to wait for the Triad,” Lindsey said. “They’re on their way here.”

  “We don’t need to,” Vanessa said, uncorking a cask of wine. “There’s one of each Warden here. We could do it ourselves.”

  “I think we broke enough trust trying to involve Nat in the first place,” Lindsey said.

  Vanessa nodded and shoved the cork back into the cask. The Book of Wisdom lay open on the table next to a ball of twine. The left-hand page said, “Boiled Bitterwine,” with instructions for preparation, and the title of the right-hand page read, “The Oath.”

  “You’re making the right choice,” Brianna said, crossing her arms and leaning against the stage. She was four years older than Vanessa, a few inches taller, and rather than voluminous curls, she wore her hair in chunky braids that were currently knotted in low pigtail buns. Brianna was one of a small number of single young adults who should have outgrown this town. Most twenty-something people from San Solano had left for college and stayed gone, or already had a spouse and kids, like Kate. If not for being a Warden, Brianna would have gotten the heck out of here.

  “What will the bitterwine do exactly?” I asked her.

  “Because of everything we’ve been taught about witches and demons and Satan worship, etcetera, many of us resist our magic without realizing it,” Brianna explained. “The wine allows you to embrace it. It gives you strength, helps you heal faster, helps you see in the dark. It gives you everything you need to fulfill your purpose.”

  The ingredient list included countless herbs and plants, a few that I was pretty sure were baneful, like datura and belladonna, because Grandma Kerry had shooed me away from them in her garden. There were even more exotic ingredients, like ground animal bones, tree roots, and sparrow blood mixed with raw honey. Nausea made acidic saliva pool behind my tongue.

  The sanctuary door groaned and Maggie appeared, looking surprisingly haggard. I had a feeling it wasn’t purely from running the most highly attended event of the year.

  “I figured I’d see you here,” she said, giving me a once-over. Had she known all along that the first Shadowing would drive me back, that I had no choice in the matter?

  Vanessa and Brianna’s grandmother, Cynthia, emerged from the back hall, looking well rested and ready to take the night shift. “Hello, Natalie,” she said knowingly.

  Lindsey’s abuela wasn’t far behind Maggie. They knew what I was here for.

  “Did Levi call you?” I asked Maggie. “Is Emmy okay?”

  “She’s fine now,” Maggie said, locking the door behind Abuela. “I couldn’t assure Jennifer that it won’t happen again, but I think your willingness to take the Oath has appeased the magic on both of your behalves.”

  Vanessa filled the chalice. Lindsey unwound a generous length of twine and sliced it with her dagger, handing it to Sofia. Heather slid off the stage and stood with her head bowed. Vanessa, Lindsey, and Brianna stepped back, giving a wide berth to the Triad.

  The older women surrounded the Communion table. Sofia beckoned for my hand and I stared at the blood drying under my fingernails as she looped twine around my wrist. Patient, steady, she connected me to the Triad, and Cynthia tied the final knot on Sofia’s wrist, closing the loop.

  “Read the Oath aloud,” Maggie directed. “Say all three first lines since you have all three gifts.”

  My gaze fell to the open book. The expected rhymes were absent, replaced with straightforward prose. Malachi’s power here was stripped back, laid bare, and I felt the potential of what she could summon with a simple, intentional word.

  I swallowed any second thoughts and read, “I summon forth the power within me—that of earth, dark, mysterious, and giving; that of bone, enduring, wise, a teacher of the past and future; and that of blood, quick, potent, and binding. I vow to use it to protect the innocent, to fight the darkness, and to guard the precious secrets of the sisterhood here represented. I will now free my magic and open my Sight.”

  The Triad answered in unison, “By the powers of earth, bone, and blood, proceed we Wardens to our noble work.”

  Lindsey severed the twine, and the three older women stepped away from me, gesturing toward the engraved chalice and the collyrium.

  “Drink the boiled bitterwine first,” Maggie instructed. “You want your magic good and settled in before you see anything unsavory. It helps to hamper the fear.”

  The jeweled red depths of the wine caught the light, almost alluring. What was not alluring, not in the least, was the cloying, offensive smell of the unorthodox ingredients. It was so much worse than Lindsey’s revolting green smoothies, which she must have loaded with a magical assortment of herbs to increase strength and endurance. All those incredible spells, and they couldn’t manage to mask the taste of this stuff?

  Grimacing, I tipped the chalice back and poured the brew down my throat. I finished off the dregs and slammed it back on the table.

  Right away, I felt my blood quickening in my veins, the lingering pain of that torturous ache in my bones easing away, my muscles tensing in readiness.

  “Here,” Sofia said, motioning for me to sit on the front pew. “Lean your head back, and I’ll administer the collyrium.”

  I did as she directed and heard the glass vial and dropper chime. The drops grew bulbous and splashed into my eyes. After I blinked them away, starry blots floated through my vision. My focus went in and out, like peering through someone else’s prescription glasses. When it sharpened again, the shadows in the sanctuary seemed less dark than before.

  “I suggest bunking in the hideout as the changes take effect,” Sofia said, patting my shoulder. “You’re going to feel—”

  She was interrupted by a distant, deep voice yelling my name. Levi.

  An urgent knock pounded on the door. “Nat!”

  “That boy is a piece of work,” Maggie huffed, starting down the aisle to answer. Another violent knock, and this time the door rattled on its hinges. “Hold your horses!” Maggie shouted, jogging the rest of the way. She unlocked the door and demanded, “What is this nonsense, Levi Langford?”

  Even though we’d been together minutes ago, I felt like I was seeing him with fresh eyes. Maybe it was the collyrium, but I fancied I could see the full kaleidoscope of emotions on his face and the previously imperceptible canyons of colors in his hazel eyes, even from afar.

  “Nat,” he said, stepping around Maggie, relief in his breathless voice. “I saw your truck on the side of the road. I thought something”—he shook his head—“I thought something horrible had happened to you.”

  Before I knew it, he was there, his hand cradling my face. I felt Lindsey and Vanessa exchange glances. From their perspective, this must have escalated quickly.

  “I’m okay,” I assured him. “
It just broke down.”

  “Why was that happening to you?” he asked, lifting a damp strand of my hair that looked like it’d been dyed a washed-out shade of red. “That was a lot of blood.”

  “I know,” I said, encircling his sturdy wrist in my grip. “But it’s not going to happen again. Miss Maggie said I may have bought Emmy some time, too.”

  “By doing what?” he asked, noticing the objects on the Communion table. Betrayal flashed in his eyes. “Did you do some kind of…ritual, or something? Did you join them?”

  Without breaking our eye contact, I nodded gravely. “But it’s not something I take lightly.”

  He released me and stepped back.

  “Levi, you really need to leave town,” I said, eager to touch him again, like pinching myself to rule out that I was dreaming. “Take Emmy and travel for a bit.”

  “Emmy can’t go anywhere,” Maggie said. “Her magic would revolt more dangerously than it did tonight.”

  “Then he can go, and we’ll keep protecting her,” I said.

  He had to leave. I couldn’t let him get Shadowed. I wouldn’t. I would learn magic, learn to fight with their weapons, get stronger. If I had to, I would tie him up and force him onto a bus out of here. But he wasn’t getting Shadowed.

  “Nat,” he whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “But I’m trying to protect you!” My voice boomed through the sanctuary. Somehow, no one seemed to have noticed people arguing and pounding on doors. It was a testament to the strength of the boundaries that Malachi herself had helped enforce.

  “I don’t want you to put yourself in danger to protect me. Just tell me what’s going on, what’s out there, and I can protect myself.” He turned to Maggie.

  She shook her head. They had had this conversation before.

  Looking apt to uproot one of the pews, he clenched his fists and turned back to me. “Why did I let myself do this?” he asked. “I knew how hard it would be to care about you when you can’t tell me what’s happening. How do I know my mom is wrong about the Wardens when no one will tell me a goddamn thing?”

  I rapped my knuckles on my forehead. Why did something so good have to be so complicated?

  “Go home, hon,” Maggie said softly. “Knowing what’s out there won’t do you any good.”

  “This isn’t over,” he said. With one last look at me, he stormed out of the sanctuary.

  “Wait, Levi!” I called after him. Maybe he would let one of the Wardens escort him home. The first victim had been Shadowed, and he could be next. But by the time I flung open the door, his truck was already tearing noisily out of the grass. He’d parked in the churchyard, reckless in his urgency to reach me.

  I watched his taillights shrink until he turned the corner. The door to the sanctuary finished its slow squeal behind me.

  The hairs on my nape prickled. A foul stench crept up on my senses, like roadkill and mold and sulfur. I could feel a presence nearby, darker than an infinite hole and realer than my own heartbeat.

  I didn’t want to turn and look. What I wanted was to curl into a helpless ball. But since that wasn’t an option, I faced my fear.

  EIGHTEEN

  An immense silhouette hunched in the middle of the road not thirty paces away. A tangle of antlers rose from its head. Its face was obscured by the shadowy trees, but I saw the outline of shoulders that were sinewy, gamy, nonhuman. It had long, tapering claws and an exposed ribcage that caught the faint golden glow from the high church windows.

  A scream rose up in my throat, but I couldn’t open my mouth to draw air. The Woodwalkers weren’t just real. They were flesh and bone, rot and ruin.

  “Nat,” someone said in soothing voice. Vanessa materialized beside me, brandishing a hatchet. “Go inside.”

  The creature lurched forward. I threw myself back toward the sanctuary, smacking into Lindsey. Heather followed behind her with a pistol. Brianna dragged me inside by the wrist and traded places with me, slamming the door.

  The door to the foyer stood open. The Triad must have gone out another way to get at the creature from behind. I was alone in here.

  A cacophony of battle sounds exploded into the silence. I sank down to the red carpet between the pews to hide. On the verge of puking up the wine, I dropped my head into my hands and wished that I could close my ears to the gunshots, the metallic sounds of sharp blades slicing, and worst of all, the unearthly screeching.

  After what felt like a long time, the sounds stopped. Lindsey tromped inside, the others on her heels. I expected to hear sirens burst the bubble of silence, but there was nothing. No outside reaction. Warden magic was really something to behold.

  Kate had apparently arrived in the nick of time, and when she saw me, she rested her rifle against the wall and squatted next to me. “What’d I miss?”

  “She took the Oath,” Lindsey said, sheathing her daggers. She didn’t seem to have any fresh wounds.

  How did they do that? Charge out there so fearlessly and fight that…thing? That thing that reeked of death and looked like it had crawled from the pits of hell?

  I shivered. Which man did it used to be? One of the mob murderers who had killed Dorothy’s brother? Johanna’s rapist uncle? Her abusive father who had done nothing to stop him?

  Kate swept a stray lock of brunette hair from her face. Her mouth quirked to the side in sympathy as her sage-green eyes examined me. “Let’s go down to the basement, and I’ll draw you up a calming bath. Everything will be okay.”

  We traveled as a flock downstairs. Kate pulled me into the bathroom. She filled the claw-foot tub with warm water, steeping a loose-woven tea sachet of salts and fragrant flowers that dyed the water a mellow grayish-lavender. “This is my favorite bath tea,” she said as I stripped down, shuddering, and stepped into the water. Polite with a hint of prude, she shielded her eyes and numbered off the ingredients. “It’s heliotrope, hyssop, lavender, and star anise.”

  I leaned back and watched purple flowers slip loose and float on the water. It made me think of my swim with Levi in the pond. Everything had gone south so suddenly. “So…am I going to learn how to do what y’all did out there?” I asked after a while.

  “We’ll start you tomorrow,” Kate said, perching on the lid of the commode. “Make sure to rest tonight. Maybe flip through the Book of Wisdom, see which spells and charms call out to you. Let the changes marinate a little.”

  Lindsey poked her head in. “Hey, Nat, do you need me to text your parents and tell them you’re staying the night with me?”

  “Yeah, I don’t want them to worry. Tell them my phone died so I had to use yours.”

  “Where is your phone?” she asked.

  “Oh my god! My truck!” I exclaimed, slipping a little as I tried to push myself out of the tub. “It’s stalled on the side of the road and there’s blood all over my steering wheel. What if Sheriff Jason sees it and tells my parents and they think I’m—?”

  “Don’t worry,” Kate said. She handed me a towel. “I glamoured the color and license plate on my way here and wiped up most of the blood, I think. I took out your things, too. No one will know it’s yours, but we should take care of it first thing tomorrow. Curiosity weakens beguilement spells.”

  “I’ll take her home in the morning, and we’ll get her dad to tow it,” Lindsey said. “We’ll go before dawn in case the charm wears off.”

  Kate approved. I tugged on an extra tee of Lindsey’s and sweatpants of Vanessa’s that were comfortable but too short. After a long day of work followed by a night of emotional confessions and a traumatic turn, the bottom bunk bed that Kate had made up for me should have been more enticing. But adrenaline coursed through my veins, and Vanessa and Lindsey were still wide awake and talking.

  The two of them had stayed behind while the others went back out on patrol. I wondered if anyone else would be Shadowed by the time dawn came. The thought made me shudder.

  While Lindsey rummaged in the pantry for snacks, I ran my finger over
the spines of the books in the library corner with the tufted, poison-green velvet chaises. I hadn’t noticed last time, but there was a book sitting open on the coffee table that contained handwritten annotations. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was the grimoire Lillian had stolen from her aunt’s library, the one Malachi had used as a basis for some of her most powerful spells.

  Beside it was an enormous leather-bound book with the Warden’s Rune embossed on the cover. The edges were sprayed gold.

  “Do you recognize that?” Lindsey asked, dumping a bag of chips, a jar of salsa, and a carton of ice cream coated in freezer frost onto the Earth Warden table.

  She had mentioned that the Book of Wisdom had been glamoured. “Oh!” I exclaimed, and flung open the cover. There were hundreds more pages here than before, chock-full of spells, recipes, ritual instructions, and descriptions of herbs and crystals, all meticulously chronicled and organized.

  “If you ever want to add a spell, a new page will appear in the right spot,” Vanessa said, sitting on one of the chaises. She was sporting fresh bandages.

  A book that magically generated pages should have warranted more of a reaction, but the rest of that statement was doubly intriguing. “You mean like…I could make one up?” I asked skeptically.

  Vanessa tossed her legs over the head of the chaise and lay backward on the cushion, sifting her fingers through her curls. “Yeah,” she said with a half shrug. “Every spell and elixir and ritual was made up by someone. You have more magic than any of us. Why couldn’t you make something up?”

  “I don’t know how it works.”

  “Sure you do,” Vanessa said. “You just have to let go of your inhibitions.”

  “Look for a spell you want to do,” Lindsey said, and plopped on the rug with a ramekin of salsa and the bag of chips. “We’ll start with that.”

  “All right.” I heaved the book from the table and settled onto the chaise across from Vanessa’s.