by Patti Larsen
But I went, backpack over my shoulder, leaving Sassafras behind, just needing to get away from my family, from the grief and guilt and the weight of our new reality if only for a little while.
Why did days I wished would last forever seem to be the very ones that flew by? At least I had Liam to eat lunch with, both of us quiet as we picked at our food in the sunshine, the grass of the hill behind the school cool underneath me.
I told him everything, of course I did. I needed someone to talk to. And I was lucky I had one friend who already knew I was a witch.
“Syd,” Liam said as I ground to a halt, “I’m so sorry. Can I do anything?”
His sweet nature was one thing I loved about my Sidhe friend. He cared so much, really cared. I just wished I could take him up on his offer somehow.
“Any news from Quaid?” Liam asked me every day, another wonderful thing about him. I’d almost forgotten.
“No.” I tossed the remains of my sandwich away, watching as a handful of birds and one brave squirrel helped themselves.
Liam broke what he had left into bits and tossed the pieces one at a time. “Maybe you could bring Sassy by later,” he said. “We could have a look in the library. Who knows, there might be something there to help.”
I perked, turning toward him. “That’s a great idea. If Mom will let him out of her sight.”
“If not, I’ll look anyway,” Liam said. “There’s so much information there, not just about the Sidhe, I’m sure there has to be something.”
When I arrived home with Liam’s suggestion on my lips, Mom hesitated.
“I’ll be with Sass the whole time,” I said. “And Liam’s right. There might be something in the records.”
She continued to hum and haw until Sassafras appeared at the entrance to the kitchen.
“Please, Miriam,” he said. “I need to help Harry, if I can.”
“If anything were to happen to you.” She wrung her hands, reaching for him, but he dodged her as he circled, coming to my side.
“Nothing’s going to happen,” he said. “Please, I have to get out of here.” Was that panic in his voice? “I can’t stay trapped in this house anymore.” He scowled, hands twitching while he shoved them in his pockets. “Even when I was just a cat I had freedom.”
Mom’s eyes filled with tears. “You were never just a cat, dear,” she said. He didn’t respond, twitch, nothing. Mom finally sighed, shrugged. “Be careful,” she said. “And be home soon.” Her eyes drifted upward, as if she could see through the floor. Dad had to be in her room, probably resting. “I want to try again tonight.”
Sassafras’s scowl deepened, but he nodded. I led him out, tried not to feel offended when he drew a deep breath the moment we passed out of the wards, grinning at me like something was funny.
“You have no idea,” he said. “That place is like a tomb or something. Thanks for springing me.”
I spun on him, lashing out, slapping his shoulder. He flinched back, rubbing at it like I’d hurt him, the baby, frowning at me.
“Don’t be such a jerk.”
“You were able to leave,” he snapped back. “Go to school and forget about this for a while. I was stuck with it, with them, all day. Trade you.”
Not much I could say to that, but I was still pissed.
So was he. “Besides,” he said, turning away from me, heading for my electric blue Cooper Mini. “It’s not working, Syd. And it won’t work, what she’s trying. But she won’t listen to me.”
“Why won’t it?” I jerked open the driver’s door as Sassy slid into the passenger’s seat.
“Because,” he said at his most annoying, a tone I remembered very well from his days as my snarky cat, “if it was going to, it would have by now.”
Hard to argue with that logic.
“Then what? You have an idea?” I backed out of the driveway, my anger making me hit the brakes a little harder than normal, snapping him forward. He glared at me in anger.
“Maybe,” he said. “But I can tell you witch power isn’t going to cut it.”
Of course. My anger drained away. “We need to use demon magic,” I said, feeling like a total idiot.
“Duh.” He rolled his dark eyes and sat back, arms crossed over his seatbelt. “At least someone in this family gets it.”
I drove off, teeth clenched against the need to shove him out the door and keep going without him, shortly after running him over with my car.
***
Chapter Eight
I’d been to the magic caverns so many times, I forgot Sassy had only been there once with no time to explore. The moment the Gate’s power opened the entry and let us in, the former cat turned teenager was practically lost in the endless stacks of books. Galleytrot lifted his big head from his usual place under Liam’s desk and followed him.
I sank into one of the big chairs with a sigh as Liam handed me a can of soda from the small fridge he’d installed, one of his only nods to modern technology. That and his laptop.
Ancient Sidhe magic or not, a guy couldn’t be expected to survive in this day and age without his favorite modern conveniences.
“How’s your dad?” Liam took a sip from his own can, eyes full of concern.
I shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it while I listened with growing annoyance to Sass and Galleytrot laughing in the stacks at something they’d found. Sassy didn’t have the right to be amused. Not while my father was reduced to nothing thanks to him.
A deep breath and a get a grip later and I released my anger. I knew it wasn’t Sassy’s fault. But it was a struggle to keep from blaming him when he stood there, healthy and whole, full of Dad’s power. “Mom says he’s fine,” I said. “And Sassy seems to think if we try demon magic we should be able to make some progress.”
Sass and Galleytrot emerged, the cat-turned-boy holding a big book in his hands. “I said we’d try it,” he grumbled. “No promises, Syd.” He collapsed into a third chair, feet immediately going up on the desk. I scowled at his rudeness, not caring to stare at the bottoms of his sneakers, thanks, but Liam didn’t say anything about it so I let it go.
“I found some information which may help.” Liam turned, scooping up a thin stack of books he handed to me. I flipped the first one over, the cover made out of some kind of old leather stained red, and squinted down at the writing. The letters seemed to burn as my gaze passed over them and I finally had to hand it off to Sassafras who was snapping his fingers in annoyance at me, gesturing for me to hand it over.
More teeth gritting. I wouldn’t have any left at this rate. I gave him the book slowly, on purpose, flashing him a smile when his scowl grew deeper.
Served him right. Though it didn’t matter anyway, beyond the childish satisfaction it gave me to torture him even a little.
“Can’t read demon,” I said.
“Nor should you,” Sassafras said at his most arrogant, holding the book closed with both hands. “At least not this dialect. Where did you get this?” He glared at Liam as if my friend had done something wrong.
“There are books of all types here,” Liam said, voice mild, gentle even. “It’s pretty cool, actually. I just ask for what I need and the cavern kind of takes me where I have to go to find it.”
More Sidhe magic. But useful at least. Still, I hoped Liam wasn’t trusting it entirely. Even the Seelie court, what most people thought of as the good side, were known to be tricksy. For all I knew, the books would swallow him up someday.
Nice thought.
Sass slid his hands over the cover of the book. “Well, this particular tome won’t help,” he said. “It’s about sacrificing demons.”
I frowned. “What?”
“You know,” he said, making an evil face, amber fire rising in his eyes, “how to call and trap a demon then burn him or her alive as a sacrifice or to steal their power.” Sassy laughed bitterly, sinking back into his chair again. “Then again, maybe it will help. After all, Harry’s trapped here, isn’t he?” S
assy’s wry and nasty grin smoothed out. “Anything else?”
“Only some history books.” Liam gestured to the stack in my lap. Sassy held out both hands with an expression that told me I was wasting my time, so I handed them over with a sigh and an eye roll.
“I’ll have a look,” Sassafras said. “Chances are though we’re on our own.”
“Poor Harry.” Galleytrot laid his chin on his paws. “I wish there was something I could do.”
I reached down and scratched his ears. “Me too, big guy. There has to be something.”
We all sat there, glum and silent, until Sass shook himself, almost like he would have if he was still a cat, and stood up, the books tucked under his arm.
“Our hour is up,” he said, sounding even more depressed. “And you know what your mother is like when she doesn’t get what she wants.”
Liam walked us to the door, Galleytrot hanging back.
“I’m going to stay,” he rumbled. If I had the choice I would have too so I hardly blamed him.
I waved at Liam, Sassafras ahead of me, and passed through the entry. Sass let out a yip of surprise, the books he’d been holding now missing. We both turned, saw Liam on the other side, said tomes held in his hands.
Sorry, he sent to me. I guess they aren’t meant to leave the cavern.
Makes sense, actually, I sent back. Sass glared at the books as if they’d done him some personal harm. We’ll come back later and do our research here.
I’ll read through them in the meantime, he told me, holding them up. See what I can find.
I grabbed Sassy by the arm and pulled him out of the way as the green power flared, the bookcase swinging to thud softly shut in our faces.
“Craptastic,” he muttered.
“Let’s go.” Another gentle tug got him moving.
I pulled into the driveway, Sassafras staring out the window beside me the entire silent drive. I had a moment of curiosity, remembering all those times he’d vanished when he was still in cat form.
“Where did you go?” I’m not sure why it was so important for me to know. It didn’t really matter in the long run. But I knew so little about him, about the cat life he led outside of our house, I wanted suddenly to feel connected to my silver Persian again.
Sassafras met my eyes, still quiet, before opening the car door and getting out. I was sure he would ignore my question, but instead of heading for the kitchen door, he led me around the side of the house and across the yard. My feet registered the tingle of power under ground, the presence of the sleeping Wild Hunt, the current of family magic filling up every corner. Sassafras kept moving, pointing at the thick hedge and a small hole, a few bits of light fur clinging to it. The sight reminded me of the night he was kidnapped, when Galleytrot still worked for the Moromonds, the night I was sure my dear cat died, leaving only a mass of fur behind.
Sassafras slid around the edge of the hedge between the spiny growth and an old maple. We were in the neighbor’s yard, but the huge tree’s branches hung low, the leaves almost touching the grass, creating a canopy of green, hiding us from view. Sassy pointed upward to a small wooden structure a few branches up.
“Their kids are grown up,” he said, one foot on the rickety ladder hammered to the side of the tree. He boosted himself far enough to look inside the playhouse, one hand snaking out to grab something and pull it free. Sass landed with a soft thud on the ground beside me, holding out a light blue blanket. “Stole this from your room. Sorry.”
I let my hands feel the soft fabric in his grasp. “I love this blanket,” I whispered. “I’ve had it since I was little, thought I lost it.”
Sassy shrugged, thumbs sliding over the satin edging. He looked so sad, his fingers picking off clumps of silver fur. I wanted to hug him. But he turned to me before I could act and shoved the blanket into my hands before stalking back toward the house.
I hugged it to me instead, the scent of his cat fur filling my senses, missing him even as he walked away.
***
Chapter Nine
I walked in the back door, the blanket still clutched to my chest, barely noticing the sound of voices coming from the kitchen. When Dad’s rumbling baritone broke through, my head snapped up and I hurried down the hall. No big surprise to hear his voice, but there was a tone to it that sounded almost happy.
Had something happened?
I’m sure I must have looked funny as I came to a halt just across the threshold, a child’s blue blankie in my hands, the front of me covered in silver cat hair, mouth gaping as I stared at my father sitting casually crossed-legged and relaxed at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee halfway to his smiling lips.
“Syd?” The mug lowered, his blue eyes steady, locked on mine, no hint of the haunted look he’d worn just this morning in his gaze. “Are you okay, cupcake?”
Had he totally and completely lost it? I glanced up as movement caught my eye to see Mom deliver a plate of cookies to the table, still playing Little Miss Domesticated like nothing had changed. I felt like I’d suddenly walked into the Twilight Zone.
“Chocolate chip,” Mom smiled at Dad. “Your favorite.”
Dad smiled back, helped himself. “Delicious, my love.”
My gaze flickered to Sassafras where he sat, arms crossed over his chest, scowling at the two of them from the other end of the table. “Can we drop the charade already?” His voice hummed with a growl of power. “Why the act?”
Instead of freaking out like I expected her to, Mom just smiled at Sass and actually stroked his hair. Like he was a real boy or something. Which he was. Damn it, I was sure I couldn’t possibly get more confused about this whole insane situation.
“No act,” she said, turning her sweet expression on Dad. “We’ve just come to an understanding.”
I shuffled a little further forward, eyes locked on Dad. He felt pretty calm for someone who’d been stripped of every last ounce of power he owned. Way calmer than when he’d simply been trapped here in mortal form. In fact, he seemed… accepting. Yeah, that was the look on his face, in his deep blue eyes, the emotion behind the curve of his smiling lips.
I wanted to slap him. To take him and shake him. Anything, even his sullen brooding of the past year, would be better than standing here watching the last of the fight in my father die as he just gave up and decided to be normal.
“Are you out of your freaking minds?” The hysterical shriek in my voice wasn’t helping things any, but I could barely contain it.
Mom’s smile twitched before returning. Ah. So there was still some doubt. Okay then. At least I had a chance.
But Dad squashed my hope when he spoke up. “Syd,” he said, hand reaching for mine, gripping it gently in the warmth of his own, “it’s okay. Really.” He sighed deeply, as if releasing something, a burden or weight he’d been carrying around for a long time. “This is my choice. Being powerless…” He shrugged. “It’s not as bad as I thought. In fact, there’s a peace in it I never understood before.” Dad released my hand. “This way, Sassafras is able to be in human form again, the threat of coven law is gone and I get to be your father, your mother’s husband, a real part of this family for the first time ever.” The gentle, loving expression on his face told me everything I needed to know. “I can live with that.”
“Well, I can’t.” I’m not sure where the sudden surge of fury came from or why I was venting it all over him when he just wanted to accept his fate. “You are not a quitter, Dad. You’ve never given up, on me, on us.” My hands clenched around the blanket so tightly I heard a small ripping sound as I tore the old fabric. “How dare you quit on us now?”
Mom’s tears were instant, but so was her answering anger. “Don’t you speak to your father like that.”
But Dad held up his hand to quiet her. “Syd,” he said, that empathetic calm still surrounding him. He took my hand again. “Reach for me, Syd.”
I did, in a surge of magic, throwing everything I had at him, plunging deep inside him, trying t
o find something, anything, to latch onto. Tears welled and fell, my heart crumbling as my desperate need was crushed by the truth. There was nothing, not a hint or a trace of the father I grew up with, the demon I loved. I was sure once he rebounded there’d be something. But all I found was a man, empty of power, without even a thread of anything for my energy to latch onto.
My fingers slid from his. He continued to smile at me, sadness there. But not for himself. For me.
“There’s nothing we can do,” he said. “You must understand, Syd.”
“But demon magic.” My eyes sought Sassafras. He refused to meet my gaze, scowling at the tabletop. “We haven’t tried to use demon power yet.”
Dad nodded. “Yes, honey,” he said. “We have. You just did.”
A sob escaped me. He was right. The slim hope died along with the last of my protest. I realized then he hadn’t quit, not really. He’d been forced to stop. Guilt replaced anger. I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around his neck, feeling him scoop me up like I was little again and set me in his lap, while I cried into the collar of his shirt.
Mom’s hand settled on my back, her other stroking my hair. “It’s going to be okay, honey,” she whispered. “We have your father with us. He’s alive, safe. Isn’t it all that matters?”
I pulled away from both of them. “No,” I said. “It’s not.” I met Mom’s eyes, wiping at tears with one hand while I continued to cradle the blanket against me with the other, a simple yet powerful comfort I refused to release. “I want my father back.”
As much as I knew it hurt them both, I had to leave the room, running all the way upstairs, slamming my door behind me, the only way I had to express my disappointment and hurt. I collapsed on my bed, face pressed into the fabric of the blanket, feeling like I’d lost something very important to me and would never, ever get it back.
I blamed the blanket for my retreat into girlhood again, the lost and lonely girl I used to be, who hated everything to do with magic. Those feelings surged back as I accused the power my family wielded of ruining everything. Only this time I didn’t have Gram’s embedded essence to encourage my reaction.