“Alecto doesn’t think there’s anything to worry about,” I said out loud for Rachel’s benefit. “But you better start talking, Mrs. Hadley. You’re hurting Rachel.”
“Oh dear.” Mrs. Hadley let go. “I do apologize. Sometimes I don’t know my own strength.” Rachel rubbed her wrist, massaging the circulation back into her hand and fingers.
“What exactly is going on here?” I asked. I couldn’t decide whether I felt angry, wary, or curious.
“You, dear, are the first of the Furies.” Mrs. Hadley got up to fuss with the teapot again. Settling herself back at the table, she raised a hand to forestall the questions she could see me forming. “Yes, there are others, and no, I don’t know who they are or where you will find them. Though an old lady has her suspicions!” She cackled again and Rachel and I both jumped at the sound.
“Oh, I’m sorry, dears,” she apologized again for startling us. “It’s been so long since I’ve had visitors, I forget myself sometimes. Why, there are weeks on end when I just stay in and brew my potions—sometimes for fun I even dress up as one of those weird sisters Mr. Shakespeare thought up. They were based on me, you know.”
“Mrs. Hadley,” I broke in, fascinated but hoping to stop her before she got too far off track. “Who or what are you, exactly?”
“Why, haven’t you guessed by now?” She pursed her lips in astonishment. “Surely, Alecto must know me. I admit, I have aged a bit with the times, but Alecto herself is older than I am.”
Rachel reached for her tea and sipped thoughtfully, distracted by the witch’s patter. I hoped it wouldn’t turn her into a toad or something equally disgusting. “You’re Hecate, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Yes, dear! Very good!” The witch actually applauded. “How did you know?”
Rachel made a dismissive gesture with her free hand. “Once you gave us the clue about the three witches in Macbeth, it was easy. Hecate embodies the three stages of womanhood,” she recited as if reading from an encyclopedia, “the maiden, the mother, and the crone. An ancient goddess associated with magic and witchcraft, she is often attributed with extensive knowledge of herbs and poisons. Worshipped in ancient Greece and associated with Wicca in modern times, Hecate inhabits places of liminality—crossroads, doorways, and thresholds.”
She took another sip of tea and raised her eyebrows. “Should I go on?”
Mrs. Hadley chortled. “Now that would be showing off.”
“OK, so you’ve revealed yourself to us,” I broke in. “Now what?”
“Now you finish your ambrosia.” She pointed to my bowl with her teaspoon. “It is crucial to Alecto’s well-being. And yours, for that matter.”
I managed another spoonful and nearly gagged. “This is ambrosia? As in, food of the gods?”
Mrs. Hadley cackled again. “What stories you mortals make up. No, dear, ambrosia is just a tonic. A medicine. It does not convey immortality or any of the other things the legends would have it do. It is simply a potion that balances the humors that are misaligned when human and immortal blood are mixed. Hercules, that dear boy, used to make such a fuss about taking his. Why, I recall—”
“Mrs. Hadley?” Rachel reminded her gently. “You were telling us about the Furies?”
“Ah, yes. Quite right. Well, the ambrosia is the main reason I revealed myself to you, you see. I really have no desire to get mixed up in this mess you’ve gotten yourself into, but I couldn’t just let Alecto waste away, the poor beastie.”
She smiled at me kindly and I managed another few spoonfuls. Though I wouldn’t have thought it possible, the taste actually got worse as the potion cooled. I did feel more energetic, though. Maybe there was something to this ambrosia stuff, after all.
“So Tara and Alecto need ambrosia to survive?” Rachel asked. “And you’re going to provide it to them?”
“Oh, no,” Mrs. Hadley answered quickly. “I’m very busy, you know—spells, potions, Bingo at the senior’s center on Thursdays. I don’t have time to be chasing after Furies. No, dear, I’m just going to give you the recipe. As I said, I really can’t get too involved. In fact, it’s been against my better judgment living next door to you all these years, but I suspected you might need a bit of help when Alecto showed up.”
“You knew all this was going to happen? How? And why didn’t you ever say anything?”
She chuckled. “As if you would have believed me, the batty old lady next door telling you a Fury was in your future.”
“So what are you doing here, then?”
“Alecto may not have come into all her old memories just yet, but she and I were rather close at one point. Worked together a time or two, you could say.”
“You…worked together.”
She smiled. “Perhaps this will help jog the old memory.” She passed a hand in front of her face and for a moment, a young woman replaced the crone who’d been sitting there. Recognition niggled at the back of my mind and I knew it was Alecto’s memory, not mine.
“That’s what you used to look like. Back in…” It was still hard to believe it. “Back in ancient Greece.”
The air stirred around her as the glamour faded and the old woman nodded back at me, “When I saw what was coming, I thought I might as well be nearby, just in case.”
“You saw what was coming?” I gripped the edge of the table and leaned forward. “So you know who’s after me? And why Ruby’s in danger?”
“I have many ideas, dear, and very little proof. I will say that I believe whoever is after you and Ruby are one and the same—and that’s all I’m willing to say. Now, the recipe.” She stood up and shuffled over to a small wooden box on the counter. “You’ll need to make sure you drink a bowlful every few days.”
She flipped open the lid to reveal a thick stack of neatly penned recipe cards. When she found the one she wanted, she handed it to Rachel.
“Nothing personal, dearie,” she said, glancing over at me, “but your friend seems a bit more scientifically inclined. Probably better that she handles the potions.”
I raised my hands in a no-offense-taken gesture.
“Now, the bit of ambrosia I’ve given you won’t be enough to sustain you and Alecto. You’ll need more right away and I’m afraid some of the ingredients can be rather difficult to locate.”
“Couldn’t you just make it for me? Maybe just at first, until I get a little more used to all this?”
She fixed me with a stern look. “If I do everything for you, how will you ever learn? You know, when I was your age—”
But I didn’t get to find out what she’d done at my age because she was interrupted by the sudden, shrill ringing of an old-fashioned rotary telephone mounted on the wall next to the stove. A cacophony of cuckoo clocks answered from somewhere upstairs, and then the oven timer went off. I jerked in my seat, nearly deafened by the chimes and alarms that rang out throughout the house.
“Oh, I was afraid of this.” Mrs. Hadley wrung her hands.
“What’s happening?” I raised my voice to be heard over the din.
“I knew I oughtn’t to have gotten involved,” the old witch said to herself. “And now they’re here, of all places.”
“Who’s here, Mrs. Hadley?” I tried again.
“There’s nothing to be done now.” She pushed us toward the front door. “You must go. Quickly now, before they catch you here!”
We made it halfway down the long hallway before the back door began to thump and rattle in its frame. Someone—or something—was throwing itself against the door in an attempt to enter the home. Mrs. Hadley looked back over her shoulder, real fear showing in her eyes now.
“Go, dears, while you still can!” she urged as she herded us toward the door. She folded Rachel’s hand tightly around the now-crumpled index card. “Memorize the recipe. You’ll need it now, more than ever.”
She glanced back over her shoulder at the sound of cracking wood, and the back door slammed open to bang against the wall. The kitchen was quickly invaded by
an inky darkness that filled the small room from floor to ceiling and obscured the shelves of potions and curios.
“Run home, girls, and lock the doors! Pull all the curtains and blinds, and don’t look out. Whatever you do, don’t go outside until the witching hour is past.” She hauled open the front door and shoved us out of the house with a mighty heave.
“What do you mean, run home?” I grabbed her by the hand. Her skin was paper thin and rosewater soft. “You don’t think we’ll just leave you here to face that…whatever it is, do you?”
I looked down the hallway over her shoulder. The blackness in the kitchen was oozing down the hall toward us, gathering itself into a column as it advanced, and I could almost make out a human shape in the roiling, dark mass.
Mrs. Hadley shook me off.
“Good-bye, girls!” she called out, ignoring my questions as she turned away to face the darkness. “It’s once more into the breach for me!”
Before I could reach for her again, she let out a blood-curdling war cry and slammed the door in our faces. Thunder boomed impossibly from inside the house, and she was gone.
Chapter 13
Night had fallen since we’d been inside the little house. What had seemed like minutes inside had been hours in reality. Mrs. Hadley let out another screech from inside the house, sounding like a cross between an aged banshee and a strangled cat, and I jiggled the doorknob frantically.
“Mrs. Hadley?” The door wouldn’t give. I kicked it, trying to force it open, and Alecto clamored to be unleashed on whatever was in the house with our mysterious neighbor. I threw open the barrier separating her from the rest of my mind and kicked at the door again.
It held fast.
I growled in frustration and Alecto directed me to attack the hinges instead. I curled my fingers into claws and tried to peel the metal back, but it wouldn’t budge. A spell, Alecto hissed. There is a warding keeping us out.
“Mrs. Hadley!” I yelled. “Are you OK in there? Let me in!”
There was no answer. The sounds of a fierce storm continued to rage inside the little bungalow.
“Mrs. Hadley!” Rachel joined her voice with mine. “Can you hear us? What should we do?”
Thunder cracked again and something thudded against the door. “Run home, dears!” the old witch’s voice called faintly from inside.
Something cold shivered up my leg and I looked down to see wisps of oily-looking blackness seeping out of the house, worming their way in tendrils under the crack at the bottom of the door. One of the wisps was licking at my foot like a dark, icy tongue of flame, and I yanked it back out the way.
“Get back, Rach,” I ordered. “We don’t know what this stuff is.”
Rachel retreated a few steps and I tensed for another assault on the front door. I shifted my weight, then threw my whole body at it, determined to get at whatever was in there and stop it before it did any serious damage to the kindly old witch. Mid-leap, a wave of cold broke over me and I fell heavily against the door, my muscles giving out as though a switch had been flipped. I scrambled to my feet and tried to reach for Alecto, but she didn’t answer, her presence muted and distant. The cold intensified and I shivered in the warm night air.
“Tara,” Rachel said from behind me, “look down.” Her voice shook.
I looked down.
The dark, creeping wisp that had been licking at my shoe had wormed its way up my leg, wrapping itself around my ankle and winding up my calf almost to my knee. My leg was numb with cold where it touched me. My eyes widened as it continued its slow, steady climb higher up my body. I tamped down a scream and shook my leg in revulsion, but the stuff hung on. It provoked a visceral disgust in me, as though I’d waded into a lake for a refreshing swim, only to emerge covered in fat, slimy leeches.
A sense of satisfied anticipation emanated from it as though it were sitting down to a delicious meal. Whatever it was, the stuff was alive.
And it wanted me for its main course.
More of the gunk slithered out from under the door and began to reach for us, gaining momentum as it massed and advanced. The house it oozed from had gone completely, ominously silent. Rachel darted forward and grabbed me by the arm, hauling me away. I felt the blackness wrapped around my leg pulling me in the other direction, but the resistance gave way as I stumbled backward, and it shrieked inside my head.
“Come on!” Rachel insisted. “We need to get out of here. Look at that stuff!”
I took another step back and surveyed the black mass. It was no longer just oozing out from under the door—it was roiling now, spreading out over the porch to cover the lawn. Strange ripples and currents moved through it in response to our voices, to the breeze, to any slight change in environment, and I knew Rachel was right. There was nothing we could do here. The stuff had leeched the Furious right out of me and we had no idea what it was. How could I fight something I couldn’t even touch?
Still, I couldn’t just leave Mrs. Hadley in there. I had to try again, at least once more.
I took a deep breath and waded in again. The black ooze was now knee-deep and showed no sign of dissipating. I made it just a few steps before it latched on to me. My feet dragged like I was wading through heavy mud and the blackness climbed my body quickly, whirling and rushing its way up my legs to coat me in freezing, cold tar, not quite liquid or solid.
“Tara!”
I heard Rachel scream, but somehow, it didn’t seem to matter much. In fact, now that the blackness had worked its way up to my chest, it was almost pleasant. I searched my mind for the perfect way to describe it. Refreshing, maybe? Yes, that was it. Refreshing. It was so nice to be surrounded by this delightfully cool substance on such a hot, sticky, summer night. I wanted to tell Rachel to join me, just knowing that the lovely blackness would help her feel better, but I couldn’t be bothered to get the words out.
Alecto sighed, her thoughts a peaceful blue-green swirl in my head. It was good to feel her at ease, relaxed, and I hummed with pleasure as I bent to scoop up a handful of the stuff. Maybe I should drink some. It would be so nice and cool going down.
I felt a sharp pull at my waist and I was yanked backward with sudden force. I landed hard on the concrete of the sidewalk. “Are you insane?” There was a girl yelling at me and I wished she wouldn’t. It was distracting. I nodded and patted her arm as I climbed to my feet. I had to get back to the blackness. Hopefully, she would join me. The ooze would make her feel better.
But the girl hauled me backward another couple of steps and I felt a twinge of irritation. Really, this was starting to get annoying. Alecto swirled orange, agreeing with me.
“You were about to drink that stuff!” The girl was saying something again. Maybe if I paid attention to her for a minute, she would go away and let me get back to the blackness. I forced myself to look at her, though the blackness was so pretty, tumbling and rolling toward us.
Rachel? Was that her name?
“Rachel.” I tried it out loud. Yes, she looked excited, so that must be it. I said it again. “Rachel.” She responded by pulling me even farther from the blackness. Really, this was a bit much, we were practically across the street. How much farther did she want to go?
The girl—Rachel, I reminded myself—lifted her arm and slapped me across the face. My head snapped back, and she did it again.
“Rach? What?” I shook my head to clear it. “Why are you hitting me?” I felt dazed, disoriented. What was going on?
“Oh, thank God. Tara, I was so scared,” Rachel sobbed. Her face was a mess of panic and tears.
I looked around, trying to remember what we were doing on the street in front of Mrs. Hadley’s house. The black gunk seeping out of the house was even darker than the asphalt under our feet, and I squinted at it as it advanced toward us. My mind cleared and I realized that the stuff had already gotten Mrs. Hadley and had been trying to…eat me? I shivered. I wasn’t sure what had just happened, but Rachel had saved me from it, whatever it was.
“Come on,” I said, making a decision. I grabbed her hand and ran for our house. I didn’t like to leave Mrs. Hadley behind, but there was nothing we could do for her. And the blackness was spreading fast, as though it meant to cover the whole neighborhood. I didn’t know what good it would do to sit in our house with the curtains drawn, but Mrs. Hadley had sacrificed herself to give us those instructions and I didn’t have any better ideas.
Not stopping even to catch our breath, Rachel and I ran inside and tore through the house, locking doors, closing curtains, and pulling down blinds as fast as we could. We rolled up towels and duct taped them around the door and window frames, until at last we were as sealed in as we could be. Then we called Alex at work and told her not to come home until daylight.
Too shaken up to sleep and afraid to look out the windows, Rachel and I turned on every light in the house while she peppered me with questions about the black ooze that had nearly swallowed me up. I answered as best as I could, but exhaustion was overtaking me and I collapsed on the couch. Even in the face of danger, Rachel’s curiosity was insatiable.
I passed out before I could hear any of her theories; the last thing that registered was the sound of the Ryan Gosling marathon she turned on to keep herself company until I woke up.
Despite the companionship of the television, Rachel must have eventually passed out too, because the next thing I heard was someone pounding on our door.
Chapter 14
Still fuzzy from lack of sleep, I rolled off the couch, reflexes landing me on my feet. Just a week ago, I would have been in a heap on the floor.
“Who is it?” Rachel whispered, eyes wide.
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