If there was a time it would be convenient to put the old soul inside her body, it was now.
Lucifer looked to the vial filled with soul to the cloud of Abigail drifting before him without a body. He didn’t know whom he loved more, the new Abigail or the old one. They were the same and different, like the cutting from a vine that started a new plant. The new Abigail was a shoot grown apart and separate but made of the same fabric.
He could love either half of her. But this wasn’t about him and what he wanted. This was her soul, her magic, and her body. She was the one who needed to decide.
“What do you want?” His voice was made of shimmering lights as he spoke to her souls. “Do you want to return to your body?”
He shifted his astral self toward the bobbing soul of Abigail slowly, not wanting to scare her and for her to snap that fragile string of soul that was keeping her attached to her body.
“It’s me, Lucy? Do you recognize me?” he asked.
He knew she said something in return because the vaporous emerald cloud twinkled in response. He wished he could understand her. There hadn’t been a chapter on the language of souls in Baba’s book.
He held out his hand. “Come closer. I want to help you.”
The cloud shifted closer and then back, hesitant.
He thought of the leshi who had held her hand out to him, desperation in her eyes, trying to lure him to kill him. He hoped Abigail wouldn’t see him like that, as a trickster who wanted to use her. Yet, he could see how she might, especially after her confession to Felix.
“I love you. I want to help you.” His words resembled starlight and bubbles, blue and violet flashes slipping from him as he spoke. “I know you don’t want me to use soul magic on you to heal you. You made your wishes clear to me before. I’m not going to replace you.”
She wasn’t incomplete, just small. Her soul wasn’t large enough to fill her body, but it was healthy—apart from being separated from the rest of her. Without being in her body, the soul wasn’t stretched as thin, trying to fill the space. She was lovely and perfect. It wasn’t the soul of a monster, though it did seem to be frayed like old fabric around the edges.
He felt his own soul respond to hers. Deep inside, he knew he loved this version of Abigail, and he wanted to honor her wishes.
The green nimbus floated closer.
“That’s right. Come back. I want you.” He beckoned to her.
A tendril of soul brushed against his hand, more like a delicate arm of strawberry vine than human fingers. She nudged against him before whispering through him, trying to hold on to him but failing.
He didn’t have the blanket to make a tangible wall to hold her. He only had his magic. His affinity. He dipped into the well inside him, transforming electricity into serene plant magic. The essence of orchids and roses encased his hands like gloves up to his elbows. He circled his arms around her soul and drew her into his embrace. He guided her soul back to her body.
She hovered, shifting from side to side as if trying to anchor herself back into place.
Her body, magic, and spirit overlapped all in the same space. Yet each piece remained separate. He closed his arms around her tree body, trying to wrap himself around her like a blanket. He didn’t know how long he would have to hold her there.
When he’d tried to transform her body into her human form after finding her trapped like that in the forest outside the Raven Queen’s castle, it hadn’t worked, but there was no soul attached to that body. Her soul was present now, even if she was having difficulty anchoring. He had to trust he could help her this time.
Baba’s book on souls had suggested a Red affinity would need to use touch magic to coax a soul back into a body. Lucifer divided his attention between the intangible and the physical. He caressed the bark of her skin. There was an abundance of magic inside him. What would make the most difference in curing her was how he used it.
He transformed electrical magic into Celestor starlight because that was the kind of magic Witchkin used to deal with energies of the transformation, like when he turned into a cat. He combined that with Amni Plandai magic, so she could process it easier, and spun the two into a spell to speed her recovery. He didn’t have a unicorn horn or resurrection spell, but he infused the essence of those ingredients into her body and soul, allowing her magic to absorb the taste of each ingredient as though it had actually been present.
The magic was set into place.
He kissed her cheeks and massaged the hard surface of her limbs. Slowly her skin softened and became more pliable. Her face looked human despite the textured bark. Twigs shrank back into soft waves of auburn hair. Leaves retracted and sank back into her.
He ran his fingers through silky strands. “I love you.”
She shuddered, her limbs fighting against her own magic. She had human hands instead of limbs, but her feet remained rooted to the ground.
“Careful. Slowly shift back.” He spoke quietly, exuding the calm he wanted to feel.
Her eyes blinked open, apprehension crinkling her brow.
“Can you talk?” he asked.
A grunt of noise came from her throat.
“I’m here with you, helping you. We’re doing this together. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” He cupped her face in his hands. “You just have to be patient. You’ll be able to move soon.”
He closed his eyes and used his magic to test the connection between her body and soul. It was strengthening, though it wasn’t solidly woven together like before. He knew she was aware of him examining her soul because she twitched when he reached out his mind to shift her into place.
“I’m only making sure you’re mending. I’m not going to replace your soul.” He smiled at her, trying to reassure her so that she wouldn’t revert to her previous worries.
A gush of air escaped between her lips, a sigh of relief.
He enfolded her in his arms again, caressing her tenderly. “I’m going to kiss you again. It’s going to strengthen the bond between your body and spirit. Are you okay with that?”
She closed her eyes. Her chin tilted up just enough to be an invitation. He kissed her, infusing incubus magic into that touch, trying to lure her back into her body.
Her lips tasted of earth and pitch. A rush of roses tingled in his nose. Her limbs loosened, and she relaxed into his arms. She clutched him as he kissed her, but he could tell her body and soul weren’t yet interwoven.
“Lucy,” she said, pulling back. “You chose me? Not her?” She touched the amulet at his throat, a question in her eyes.
“Yes. That was what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
Tears filled her eyes as she smiled. “Yes.”
He lifted her up and stepped away from the puddle, away from the fire and rubble. “How do you feel about me using my incubus magic to finish binding your soul into place?”
Her lips twitched into a smile. “I’m willing to try it.”
* * *
Lucifer had never purposefully used his affinity while making love with someone, except to charge his affinity. This experience was like that, but his attention was divided, funneling it into Abigail to strengthen the magic binding her soul to her body. After his affinity had reached its zenith and healing had flooded into her, after his body was satiated, and her desire for him was quenched, a fine mesh of strawberry vines covered them both in a blanket. It wasn’t the constricting branches that had tried to bind him before. But it took quite a bit of focus on both their parts to ensure they remained soft and pliable.
She stretched and rolled onto her side, sitting up to kiss him. A wave of dizziness washed over Lucifer. He couldn’t tell if it was his dizziness or hers.
She closed her eyes and touched her head. Apparently, it was hers he was feeling.
He reached out with his astral self. The soul inside her was woven into her magic, but he noticed how separate that spirit remained from her body. She moved, but the soul lagged
behind.
Something still wasn’t right.
“You have forgotten something important, nyet?” Baba’s creaky voice asked behind him.
He turned to find Baba standing in the shadows, hunched over her cane. A portal blazed behind her, illuminating her in a ring of fire. It was far showier and more dangerous than the portal she’d taught him.
His face flushed with embarrassment for the old woman who had raised him like she was his own grandson to see him naked aside from a blanket of strawberry leaves. He hoped she hadn’t been there long.
Abigail shrank against him and pulled the blanket higher. Her heart drummed in her breast.
Baba hobbled forward. She held up the woven blanket. “You spend so much work on this. It is finally time to use it.” She unfolded it and draped it over them.
“Oh,” Abigail said. She closed her eyes and sighed in relief.
“There is one more bit. One small part that is not pleasant,” Baba said. “Sacrifice. You’d best shield yourself.”
Abigail squeezed her eyes closed and hid her face in the crook of his neck.
Lucifer closed himself from the coming pain. He numbed his skin and warded himself. He expected Baba to cut him, to strike him and instruct him to use blood or the sting of injury, but she didn’t. Nor did she reach past him and try to cut off Abigail’s fingers.
The flare of pain was so much smaller than what he expected. He was aware of the throbbing radiating from Baba’s hand. He didn’t need to look to feel the crimson drops scattering onto the unripened strawberries and smearing them with color. The patter of blood came like rain.
Baba had made the sacrifice. Her willingness to do this for Abigail warmed Lucifer’s heart.
Baba stepped back into the shadows. “Weave her soul to her body.”
Lucifer used the skills he’d already learned to weave the three strands of body, soul, and magic together.
One minute Lucifer could see the woven blanket wrapped around Abigail’s shoulder, the next it started to fade. The mesh of vines sank through him and melted into her. He could only see it with his astral self, the weaving braiding into her soul and knitting into the fabric of flesh. Magic intertwined with both.
The work was slow, like that of a new blanket being knit.
Lucifer no longer noticed the light of the portal or Baba’s presence. He remained as still as he could while the magic they’d created worked. She nuzzled against him, and he held her, content. Lucifer dozed as the magic worked, lulled to sleep by the energy he’d spent and the task he’d accomplished.
* * *
When Lucifer woke, the cave around them was dark. He was fatigued, but not so much so that he couldn’t use a simple Elementia spell to light his palm with fire. Flames were less dangerous than electricity. Abigail flinched from the light and covered her face with an arm. He kissed her palm, and she smiled.
He bent to find Abigail’s tattered clothes. He set them next to her and dressed himself.
“I need you to wake up, Abby.” He touched her shoulder, noticing how well-mended she was. Her soul had grown too. It was still incomplete, and they would need to discuss her future. She either needed to accept her old soul or regrow her current one so that she wouldn’t become a sociopath as the book had explained would happen.
But that could wait. Lucifer had other patients to heal.
She groaned and rolled over. “Do I have to get up?”
He stooped to kiss her forehead. “I’m afraid so, love. People need me to work healing magic.”
He needed to return to Baba’s cottage. MacCoinneach needed him. Hattie might too. Clarissa was probably worried, as well as everyone else who cared about Abigail. Lucifer would need to send word.
A hunched figure sat leaning against the rocks. In the shifting shadows, Lucifer couldn’t tell if it was leshi or human.
“Hello?” Lucifer asked.
He increased the intensity of the flame, holding his hand out so he wouldn’t singe his eyebrows. Slumped against the rocks a few feet away sat Baba. Lucifer crouched beside her. The knife lay at her feet. The scarlet puddle beside her hand wasn’t a significant amount of blood.
The lines etched into the leather of her face were more like an ancient turtle’s than a human’s.
“Baba?” Lucifer whispered.
Her red kerchief had fallen back from the snowy wisps of her thinning hair. He touched her forehead with his free hand. Her skin was cold and clammy.
For once Lucifer didn’t sense the ache in her bones or the pangs of arthritis. Her heart wasn’t beating. Her lungs were still.
“Baba.” His throat tightened. Her body was at peace.
She was dead.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Baba’s Sacrifice
In Lucifer’s shock, he let the light in his palm peter out. How could Baba be dead? From the cold of her skin, she’d been that way for a while.
Abigail rushed over to Lucifer’s side, stumbling into him. “Lucy?”
He held his hand away from her as he sparked the fire spell to restart. He looked to Baba again, wondering if he had been mistaken. Baba remained still. He couldn’t feel anything inside her, not magic. Not a soul.
This couldn’t be possible. Baba was all-wise. All-powerful. She knew how to fix everything.
And she had. She’d fixed Abigail. She’d stepped out of spring and into another season, knowing what it would do, in order to ensure he succeeded.
Abigail was only dressed in a shredded slip as she crouched beside him. She took the old woman’s hand in hers, the one not sliced. “Baba?”
Lucifer stretched out his awareness, searching for the residue that would surely be there. Abigail’s connection between body and soul was whole and attached with strings. Lucifer was aware of the many punctures in the fabric of this body. Surely a matching soul would be drifting nearby, a sliver of swiss cheese fragmented and needing his help.
Abigail’s eyes went wide as she stared at Baba’s skin. Like flakes of snow, Baba’s skin drifted through her fingers. Abigail let out a startled cry and dropped Baba’s hand.
The arm fell back against the rock, dust fragmenting away from the brittle bones and dried flesh. Abigail backpedaled away.
Lucifer wanted to use his electricity on Baba before it was too late, to revive her heart. He wanted to find her soul. He could save her with blood and pain magic. He still had electricity stored inside him from earlier.
And there were the remnants of the soul in the bottle. He didn’t know if he could use that to heal her. Baba wasn’t Amni Plandai, but he thought it might work. It had mended MacCoinneach.
He reached out to hold Baba, but she shifted through his fingers like dust. Abigail stumbled back farther. A cloud of petrified organs and powdered flakes sifted through the air around him.
Lucifer stood and backed away, trying not to breathe in the fragments.
He no longer had a mentor. For the first time since his childhood, Lucifer was free.
He didn’t know what to do with himself.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Muileateaches and the Men Who Love Them
Abigail brought Baba’s kerchief back with them through the portal, a red piece of fabric almost as worn as the old hedge witch had been. Her clothes were all that was left after the dust had settled. He supposed Abigail had wanted something as a keepsake to remind her of the old woman’s sacrifice.
Lucifer would have preferred to wallow in melancholy and mourn the loss of the woman who had been both wicked witch and grandmother to him, but the moment he stepped through the portal, chaos greeted him on the other side.
A baby wailed. Hattie shouted above the baby’s cries. MacCoinneach moaned pitifully on the floor. Kelsie barked out orders to them both, neither her patient nor her supposed assistant paying her any mind.
Lucifer helped Abigail step through the portal, and they both set to work. Abigail boiled water for tea, prepared herbs,
and gathered strips of fabric for bandages. Lucifer kneeled beside MacCoinneach on the floor. Enough pain radiated from the little leshi that Lucifer could tell he was alive.
Kelsie punched Lucifer in the arm. “What took you two so blasted long? Why did I have to be the one left in charge? Where’s Baba?”
“One thing at a time.” Lucifer’s mouth went dry. He forced himself to speak calmly, not to say anything that would make the situation worse and send Kelsie into a panic. “How’s our patient?”
“I found most of his arms and legs.” She waved a hand at him. “But I can’t get the pieces to go back together. I tried earth magic, and it didn’t work.”
Lucifer examined the bundles of sticks that loosely resembled limbs. “It might help if you learned your right from left.” Carefully he shifted the right and left arm into their proper places.
“Oh,” Kelsie said.
Lucifer used his affinity to perform astral surgery and infuse Amni Plandai magic into the body and soul. The baby’s wailing faded away as he sank into the space between. Healing with his affinity was more difficult than bandaging MacCoinneach’s arms and legs, which he performed next. Abigail helped him with that, cooing softly at MacCoinneach.
Kelsie stood off to the side, shifting from foot to foot uneasily. “I might as well change the baby’s diaper. At least I can be good for something.”
Lucifer eyed the green smears on her dress and clothes. “You need to wash at the stream. You have too much of his blood on you. It isn’t going to be long before it burns you, or you get it on someone else and it burns them.”
She stared at the green fluid coating her hands and nodded. Wordlessly she left.
Hattie’s injuries were superficial, easy to heal in comparison. Her old scars from leshi toxins were harder. It took more energy out of him, but he wanted to help her while there was still energy from the lightning fueling him. He didn’t know enough about eyes to figure out how to cure her sight.
He must have done something for her, though. She blinked at him, looking left and right. “I can see shadows.” She stretched out a hand and accidentally bonked him on the nose.
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