Gabriel’s wicked queen of a mother had stolen that from her mate for far too long, and she longed to do this, for him and for Rowan and Tobias. All she had to do was raise the dead. No big deal. She’d done it before.
“You’re pale,” Gabriel said.
“I’m fine,” Raven lied. In fact, she felt a little queasy. Just nerves, she told herself. “And I’m ready. Can you wake Alexander?”
Gabriel flashed a mischievous grin. “My pleasure.” Before Raven could say another word, Gabriel raced into the next room. His feet left the floor and landed on the bed next to Alexander, sending his body bouncing straight up. He belly flopped back on the mattress with an oomph.
“Gabriel, you’re a foul beast regurgitated from the belly of Hades, do you know that?” Alexander rubbed his temples like his head ached.
“Yes. Straight from hell and no worse for wear,” Gabriel quipped. “Time to rise, little brother. My beautiful wife is ready for you, and you should never keep a Tanglewood witch waiting. Trust me on that one.”
Alexander slowly rolled over and sat up. “Tanglewood witch?”
“That was her maiden name. Tanglewood. She comes from a long line of witches, running all the way back to the goddess Circe herself. You’re in good hands.”
“Don’t oversell me, Gabriel,” Raven called, secretly enjoying the compliment. The truth was she’d never felt more in her skin than since she’d become a witch. Alexander rose and joined her in the main room in front of the fire.
“Is the totem acceptable?” he asked, one eyebrow betraying his confidence in his work.
“It’s phenomenal.” Raven reached for him and turned his blood-and-clay-coated palms up to get a better look. “What happened to your hands?”
“It’s not as bad as it seems.” Alexander pulled away and walked to the sink where he washed away the grime. Underneath it all, his skin had healed, but Raven understood what it took to even temporarily damage a dragon like that.
Raven followed him to the sink and watched red clay and what looked like dried blood swirl in the basin. “How did that happen?”
He gestured toward the sculpture. “I had to do it all by hand to get it right.”
Raven grabbed a hand towel off the counter and dried his fingers. “You tore your skin making her likeness?”
He nodded. “It was necessary to get it right. That is exactly how I remember her.”
“It’s very good,” Raven said. “More than I was expecting.” In her head, she tried to calculate what effect his blood mixed in with the clay would have on the spell. She had no idea. Lost in thought, she held on to his hand for longer than necessary until Gabriel emitted a rumbling growl from behind her.
“That’s it! Gabriel, you need to leave. Come back in three hours or when I text you.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I don’t need you making jealous or worried noises. Alexander, Nyx, and I have work to do, and I can’t do it with you pulling the bonded dragon shit every time I look at him.” Raven pointed at the cave entrance.
Sulking, Gabriel kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll leave, but I’m waiting at the bottom of the cliff. I’ll be there if you need me.”
She pulled him to her and gave him a proper kiss on the mouth. “Thank you.” He nodded and flew from the cave.
Once he’d gone, she turned back to Alexander. “Are you ready to begin?”
After everything, she was not surprised when he began to tremble. “I think so.”
“You’re afraid,” she said with nothing but kindness in her voice.
His dark blue eyes met hers. “Terrified. If this doesn’t work…”
She squeezed his shoulders. “Let’s cross that bridge if we come to it. I’d prefer not to come to it.”
Once his shaking steadied, she asked him, “Do you need to eat or drink something before we get started?”
He shook his head. “I couldn’t possibly keep anything down.”
She let go and moved toward the symbol she’d drawn on the floor. “Bring Nikan.” She used the name Maiara had given the hawk instead of Alexander’s nickname of Nyx, but he didn’t seem to mind. From this point forward, she was thinking of Maiara, of what it would take to lure her back into this world. He gathered the hawk into his arms and followed her to the three circles. “I need a sacrifice of her blood in the bowl at Maiara’s feet.”
Alexander gave the hawk an apologetic look and sprouted talons on his right hand. “Sorry, dear friend.” He pierced the skin of her breast and held her over the bowl as the blood dripped over her earlier sacrifices. The hawk seemed resigned. She did not struggle or cry out.
“That’s definitely not a normal bird,” Raven murmured. “That should be enough. Now place her there.” She pointed toward the circle marked by the howlite. “I’ll need a sacrifice of your blood also. In the bowl please.”
Alexander sliced his forearm and watched the blood mix with Nikan’s, coating the lotus blossom, the orange, and the silk.
“Good. That’s enough.” Raven pointed inside the circle marked with jasper. “Kneel there.” He did as she asked. “And my sacrifice.” She used her athame to prick the tip of her finger and allow three drops of her blood to mingle with the rest. She pressed her thumb to the wound to stop the flow, then knelt in the circle with the moonstone.
The way she’d drawn the pattern, she and Alexander each faced one of the statue’s hips. The bowl was between the totem’s feet, and Nikan was in the circle behind it.
“What exactly am I supposed to do?” Alexander asked.
“Nothing yet. The purpose of this triquetra is to invite Maiara’s spirit to leave Nikan. That’s what the howlite is for. You and it are going to tempt her out. Our goal is to get her to inhabit this representation you’ve made. Don’t be surprised if she doesn’t jump right in. She’ll be confused and might be distracted by her love for you or my power. But our circles are linked, so if we each hold our ground, she should eventually choose to inhabit this body.”
“Should?”
“Yes.”
Alexander sighed and gazed up at the statue of Maiara. “Okay. I’m ready when you are.”
Raven raised her hands and began to chant. She didn’t understand all the words that had been burned into the birch bark scrolls she studied, but she understood their meaning. She was praying to the Great Spirit and Maiara’s own guardian spirit to draw her soul into the totem. She sang each memorized syllable from the heart, pouring herself into it. Her magic sparked across her skin. Her emerald ring glowed like the moon.
“Raven? Are the fireworks normal?” Alexander shouted over the hum of the magic.
“Call to her, Alexander. Call to Maiara.” She resumed her chanting.
Alexander turned toward Nikan. “Maiara, if you’re in there, come to me.” He held his arms out to the hawk. “Come to me, my Ndukweyum.”
Raven’s magic crackled and snapped against her skin, catching on the edge of the circle and igniting it with purple light. Sweat formed at her hairline. Burning hot today. The pregnancy was like a supercharger. She chanted louder, pouring the extra energy into her voice.
Nikan flapped her wings wildly, her neck twisting until the top of her head pressed into the floor. She spun in place.
“You’re killing her!” Alexander cried.
“Keep calling to her!” Raven demanded. Her voice reverberated through the room. She glanced at the tangential circle on her symbol. Purple light had begun to penetrate the obsidian. That wasn’t supposed to happen yet. She tried to pull the reins back on her power. So much power. This wasn’t just her pregnancy; this was the blood. The extra dragon’s blood in the clay was meddling with the spell, running hotter than expected and creating a magical haze she could feel against her skin.
“Alexander, we need to do this now. Call to her like you mean it.”
He straightened and tried again. “Maiara, come to me now!”
Nikan made a choking noise and opened her beak. A ball of ligh
t floated out of the bird and hovered in the center of the circle. The hawk flopped onto its side and lay perfectly still.
It was impossible not to see the heartbreak on Alexander’s face at the bird’s collapse, but he didn’t lose his focus. “That’s it. Come here.” The light slammed into the side of the circle, and the curve of the symbol guided the bouncing soul toward the totem. To get to Alexander, it had to travel past the sacrificial bowl. Raven watched the blood, fruit, silk, and flowers boil into steam and rise as red vapor into the air.
Her blood was boiling as well. The magic neutralizer she’d built was now full of light, and the overflow spilled into Alexander’s circle, into his safety zone. She was burning up. She needed to finish this spell or it would pull her apart.
The light neared the silver bowl and tumbled over the edge, coming to rest like a falling star in its belly at the totem’s feet. The third neutralizer began to fill.
“Come on, Maiara. It’s a good body. Take it!” she yelled, and her voice was not her own. The language was not her own.
Alexander’s eyes widened. “Raven…” He stared at her belly.
She peered down and saw what he saw. Her entire abdomen was swelling and contracting with the magic, and her skin was as red as a flame. “I can’t keep this up,” she shouted.
Alexander stared at the light still resting in the bottom of the bowl. “Where is her amulet?”
Raven reached into her pocket and drew it out. “It won’t help me. Not now.”
“Put it around the totem’s neck! It will show her where to go.” He practically had to scream the words for her to hear them over the roar of the mounting magic. Purple wind blew like a hurricane through the cave, toppling the floor lamp and overturning the couch. On shaky legs, her hair whipping against her face, Raven stood and looped the amulet around the totem’s neck. The last neutralizer filled.
Raven’s abdomen contracted, and the pain was so intense she thought she might die. She grabbed her stomach and screamed. Someone had her. Strong arms swept her from the symbol and deposited her on a bed. The wind slowed, then stopped.
“Easy,” Alexander said. He was hovering over her as the magic bled from her skin. “Close your eyes. Take deep breaths.”
“But the spell—”
Alexander looked back at the sculpture and the remains of the spell. “I don’t…” He shook his head. His eyes grew stormy.
Gabriel swooped into the cave and was by her side in an instant. “I heard screams.”
“I’m fine,” she said, tears welling. “It should have worked, Gabriel. The soul was right there.”
Alexander left her side and approached the symbol, inspecting the silver receptacle. “It’s empty. The sacrifice is gone. Does that mean she p-passed?”
Her heart broke for him, and she cursed inside her head. What had she done wrong? Gabriel squeezed her hand and stroked her sweat-soaked forehead.
A sharp crack echoed through the cave. “Oh dear goddess,” Alexander muttered. “Mountain help me.”
Raven made Gabriel help her to her feet, and together they staggered out of the bedroom to the boundaries of the ritual. Alexander stabbed a finger into the clay and pried away a chunk that shattered like terra cotta on the stone. Raven squinted. Was that what she thought it was?
Frantically Alexander chipped away at the sculpture. Raven didn’t try to help. He needed to do this himself. But when she saw skin shift inside the totem, her heart leaped with hope. The rest of the clay shattered in an explosion that came from the inside out.
“It worked. It worked!” Raven yelled.
“Goddess of the Mountain, it’s a miracle,” Gabriel whispered.
Raven had to agree. A living, breathing Maiara stepped from the remains of the totem on shaky legs and collapsed into Alexander’s arms.
Chapter Thirty
Darkness dug its claws into Maiara, trying to hold her inside its empty tomb. She fought to break its icy grip. On the edge of consciousness, she kicked and thrashed, fought toward the light. Gasp. Her lungs filled with air, and her lids fluttered against the bright glow of the world she was thrust into. The first thing she saw was a painting of herself and Nikan hanging on a wall of stone. The second was water.
She was still floating, but as her hands reached out, they slapped smooth white porcelain, a warm tub covered in a thin layer of bubbles. Behind her, someone was working a comb through her hair. She turned her head and made a high-pitched sound of excitement. Alexander. Her Alexander.
“Shh. Shh,” he soothed as if she were a wild animal. “I won’t hurt you.”
Of course he wouldn’t hurt her. But when she tried to tell him as much, all that came out was another squeak. Her voice wasn’t working properly. In frustration, she grabbed his hand and squeezed.
“It’s okay.” His voice shook and his eyes filled with tears. “You may be disoriented. Raven tells me that’s normal. Try to be patient.”
She nodded. She wanted to ask him where they were, and when they were, but the inside of her throat felt raw and tight. She’d spent too long inside Nikan. At first she’d been an active participant in the bird’s life, but as time wore on, she’d woken less and less frequently, and always, only, for Alexander’s voice.
“Wha—?” Her lips rounded but she couldn’t finish the word.
“You’re in my bathtub, in the cave. Do you remember the cave from when you were in Nikan? And it’s 2018.”
She squinted her eyes as images of Alexander’s cave home came back to her from a bird’s-eye view. She could see herself landing on a perch, the treasure room, the kitchen. Flashes. Images. Sounds.
Her mind tripped over the year he’d given her. If it was 2018, she’d been inside Nikan for over three hundred leaf falls—years in his language. Her throat strained as she tried to ask him to say the year again. She slapped the water in frustration.
“Shh.” He placed his hands on her arms, his soothing touch followed by equally comforting words. “Give it time.” Carefully, he handed her a mug of something warm and hot from a tray beside him. She took a sip. Mint tea.
“It’s been a long time, a really long time.” Alexander knelt on the floor beside the tub and rubbed her shoulder. Tears filled his eyes and burned hot where they landed on her arm. She shifted the tea to the lip of the tub and reached for him, sweeping her thumb under his eye. The water from the bath left his cheek wet.
Flashes of memory came back to her. A cliff. A wire. Her gaze flicked down to his throat. Alexander had not been well. He’d not cared for himself while she was gone. She could see it now in the hollow of his cheeks and the ropey appearance of his arms. Tears came then, fat ones that plopped into the tub like bloated raindrops.
He chuckled darkly. “Not you too. Just tell me something, Maiara, do you remember me? Us together?”
She laughed. That she could do. She nodded enthusiastically, her mouth spreading into a smile.
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Praise the Mountain.”
“Spi—” she said softly.
He responded with a grin that softened the gaunt lines of his face. The love shining through his eyes made him appear younger and reminded her of the early days of their relationship. Maybe that was appropriate. In some ways, they were starting over. “Sure. Praise the Great Spirit. I’ll thank any damned deity in the universe for bringing you back to me.”
She took another sip of tea, and this time, once she started she couldn’t stop. An overwhelming thirst gripped her, followed by pangs of hunger of an intensity she’d rarely experienced. She handed him the empty cup and pointed inside it.
“Raven said you’d be hungry when you woke. Come on out and I’ll have Willow make you something.” He reached for a towel and helped her to stand. Her legs quivered like a newborn deer’s, but he supported her weight as he wrapped the towel around her and lifted her out of the water. She shivered against his chest.
Tipping her head back to meet his dark blue gaze, she felt torn in two by the di
chotomy between the sheer joy of being in his arms and the crushing memory of how she’d gotten there. Her head was a war zone of images. Three hundred years lost.
“Co—,” she said, shivering violently.
Spreading his wings, he wrapped her inside them. “I can help with that.”
Memories of all the times he’d kept her warm flooded her mind. She closed her eyes and leaned into him, taking comfort from his familiar smoky scent and the heat of his skin, already chasing the chill from her blood. She felt him press a kiss to the top of her head. As long as she had this, as long as she had him, everything else would fall into place.
The black T-shirt he gave her to wear was much too big on her, but Maiara didn’t care. Alexander had propped her up in his bed under a pile of covers and told her how he planned to buy her all the modern clothes she wanted once they’d had time to take care of her immediate needs.
In no time, Willow arrived with a selection of meats, fruit, and cheeses and fresh baked bread that smelled like paradise. Alexander took it from him and sat beside her on the bed.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d have a taste for,” he said.
She pointed toward the bread. If she’d been strong enough, she would have snatched the entire loaf and brought it to her mouth. Instead, she waited patiently and trusted that Alexander would help her.
“Allow me.” He sliced off a piece, hot steam rising from the soft white center, and slathered it with butter. When he brought it to her lips, she closed her eyes as warm, deliciousness melted in her mouth. She finished the piece in no time at all and pointed to the rest of the loaf. Alexander did not disappoint. He fed her the entire thing, bite by buttered bite, and then all the strawberries and the cheese.
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