Shifting Silence

by Laura Bickle

  The fireflies paused, and I looked up, seeing glowing figures embedded in the dirt above us. I saw limbs, a scrap of dress, the heel of an old-fashioned shoe.

  “Where are we?” Halley muttered.

  “I think...I think we’re beneath the graveyard,” Starr reached up, her fingers tickling the roof of the tunnel. She buried her fingers into the dirt, staring up with a distant expression.

  “Is...is Mom here?” I whispered. I ached for Starr to talk to her. I ached to know what she had experienced after her death, wanting to know that somewhere in this darkness, she was still okay.

  “No. Not Mom,” Starr said. “Someone far older.”

  Something wriggled in the dirt, a gold glowing figure that shook itself free of the dirt to land on the ground before us. It was shaped like a woman, with the wispy suggestion of hair and an old-fashioned dress, with dark eyes and hands that fluttered in an unseen breeze. This was not our mother. But I recognized those eyes from the portraits that hung in our hallway.

  “Speak to me, Estelle,” Starr implored, knowing this woman at once. Her eyes had dilated black.

  The woman gazed at us. “Daughters of Summerwood. Why have you awoken me?”

  “The Casimir have come for us once more. And we don’t know how to defeat them.”

  Estelle’s fingers fluttered and her eyes narrowed. “The Casimir.”

  “Yes.” Starr gave her a brief rundown of what had happened.

  Estelle’s spirit listened, glistening. “You cannot allow them to have this land.”

  “We will fight,” Halley said.

  “But we don’t know if we can win,” I admitted.

  “We need to know how you defeated them the first time,” Starr said. “Tell us how to defeat them.”

  Estelle gave a harumphing sound. She turned and slid up into the ceiling of the tunnel once more.

  Starr blinked.

  “What happened?” Halley demanded.

  “I, um, think we might have offended her,” Starr offered. “She just—disappeared. I can’t hear her anymore.”

  “Great.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. Our ancestor had taken one look at our helplessness and abandoned us. That didn’t speak too well to our odds.

  Dirt rained from the ceiling, and I flung my arm up over my head, dreading a cave-in. I didn’t know how many unfathomable tons of earth lay above us, but it surely couldn’t be too stable without water to hold it up.

  A striped, furry face peered down at us. A badger, I realized. He was an old one, grey fur prickling his muzzle. He blinked and stared down at us with narrowed eyes.

  What the hell is going on down here? he demanded.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “We were talking with Estelle, and...”

  She’s rooting around over there, the badger said, jerking a clawed hand to the left. Looks like she’s trying to dig. But ghosts are shit for digging.

  “Can you help her?” I asked.

  The badger sighed.

  “Please?”

  All right. The badger turned around in the hole in the ceiling, giving us a flash of his furry rump before vanishing.

  More dirt drizzled down, and an object fell out of the ceiling, narrowly missing Halley. More clods of dirt fell out, and I jumped out of the way, pressing myself against the wall.

  The badger’s head appeared in the ceiling. There, he said. Now go away and stop making so much racket.

  Before I could thank him, he vanished.

  Estelle phased down from the ceiling and pointed to the clumps of dirt at our feet. These were the weapons we used against them.

  My heart lifted. I knelt on the ground and plucked mud, wax wrappings, and disintegrating string from an object. I had soon unwrapped a small blade. It was a curious thing, fixed to a perpendicular horizontal handle that slid under my knuckles. The blade extended upward where my middle finger should have been. It looked like the kind of thing that one might use to cut someone’s ribs in a crowded bar.

  My sisters pulled the dirt away from their own treasures. Starr lifted a small sickle, and Halley held a hammer.

  We traded uneasy glances.

  “These are the weapons we enchanted,” Estelle said. “They are forged in iron, blessed with witch blood. We used what we had at hand.”

  She drifted to Starr, touching the sickle. It glowed with dim yellow light. “The dagger belonged to our best herbalist, mistress of potions and poisons. One cut will kill a man.”

  Starr flinched. “Uh...thank you?”

  “It will not harm you,” Estelle said. “But it’s best to keep it wrapped and closely watched.”

  Starr seemed uneasy, but Estelle placed her hand on her cheek. “You must become comfortable with death. You are destined to be a psychopomp, to bring messages to and from the land of the dead. Do not fear your power.”

  She floated to Halley. “This hammer will break all illusions. It belonged to our blacksmith. It will reduce anything it strikes to its essential nature.”

  Halley lifted her chin. “Thank you.”

  Estelle touched her brow. “You are destined to see the truth in things. You create glamour, and you strip them away as you choose. Your gift is insight.”

  Lastly, she floated before me. “You hold the awl that was once mine. I used it to work leather, to transform gifts from the animal kingdom to the human one.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “This tool will allow you to transform skins. You are meant to bridge the animal and human worlds.” She touched my cheek, and her fingers were as warm as sunshine on my face. “You are a daughter of earth’s creatures. Trust them.”

  I bowed my head, feeling as if a heavy responsibility had been placed on my shoulders. “Thank you, Estelle.”

  The ghost of Estelle drew back. “I only wish that I had been able to give these gifts to your mother before she died.”

  “Is she...is she here?” My voice was a small squeak. “Is she here with the rest of our ancestors?”

  “She is. But she cannot be awoken now.”

  “Why not?” Halley demanded.

  “She sleeps.”

  I glanced at Starr. She looked pale and shrank against the wall. “Starr.”

  Starr looked away. “I tried to contact here once. And...” she blew out her breath. “I could see her, but I couldn’t hear her. After that...I was afraid to try again.” Her voice dropped low.

  “But if Estelle is here, then...” Halley began.

  I reached out for Halley and for Starr, resting my hand on each arm. “This isn’t the time,” I said. “We have to prepare to fight the Casimir. After that, if there is an after that, then we can try to contact Mom. Okay?”

  Starr nodded. Halley was reluctant, her eyes bright and glossy. But she agreed.

  Estelle seemed to be growing fainter. I reached for her, but my hands passed through her.

  “There is one more thing that I would give you,” she said. “And that is a warning. If the Casimir gain control over this well and its power, nothing will be beyond their avarice. They will bottle up the well water and sell it to the highest bidder. They will take the coins at the bottom of the well and do the same. They will take every brick of the house and build something terrible, a magical stronghold. This is something that they’ve never had, a place of power. And from that place, they will build an empire.”

  My breath caught in my throat. I’d seen what awful things they had done to Renan and Dalton. We couldn’t let them do that to others.

  I nodded. “We’ll stop them, Estelle. I promise.”

  But I sounded a lot more sure than I felt.

  CHAPTER 18

  “The spring beneath the well. It’s awakened.”

  Luminescent water began to pool around our ankles, seeping up from the ground. Estelle faded away, and the fireflies churned agitatedly. We followed them, splashing through puddles, as the golden water rose. We arrived at the bottom of the well in the basement as the water swirled around my hip. With the coins
beneath my feet, it was difficult to keep my footing.

  “Celeste!” I called up.

  My aunt peered down, and flung down a rope that hit me in the face. I groaned.

  “Let’s get going,” I said, handing the rope to Starr. Awkwardly Starr began to climb the rope, losing a ballet flat in the water. Celeste cursed under her breath as she struggled with the rope from above.

  Halley and I swapped glances. Water was pooling around our waists.

  “Your turn,” I said, as Starr flung the rope back down.

  “Nuh-uh,” Halley said. “You next.”

  “I’m the oldest and the bossiest,” I said, giving her a shove. “Don’t argue with me.”

  Halley tucked the hammer Estelle had given her in the back waistband of her jeans and climbed the rope, hand over hand, with record speed. She clearly hadn’t forgotten basic training.

  But by the time the rope fell back against my shoulder, the water was at chest height. The fireflies flooded up over my head, and the water surrounded me. It was warm, suffused with magic, like a living thing.

  For a moment, I wanted to stay here and float in it. I wanted to bask in this power, this warm light that knew me better than I knew myself.

  “Luna. Get a move on.”

  I looked up. Renan and Dalton were staring down at me. I grabbed the rope to pull myself up, but it was slow going. My T-shirt and jeans were wet and heavy, and it felt as if the water didn’t want to give me up. My boots felt like cement blocks on my feet.

  Renan and Dalton reached down for the rope. As if I weighed nothing, the rope was yanked up and I was suddenly at the lip of the well. Renan offered me a hand, and I stepped out onto the basement floor. I looked back over my shoulder at the well, then at the men. The aggro vibe between them had diminished palpably, and I breathed an internal sigh of relief.

  “What did you see down there?” Celeste demanded.

  I grinned. “A way to win.”

  I DIDN’T KNOW WHEN Silva would return, but I knew he would, with all his forces and all his magic.

  I only hoped we were ready for them.

  The cuckoo clock in the kitchen ticked loudly as Dalton organized his ammunition on the kitchen table. He’d brought everything he had at home, and I suspected that he’d sprung even more from the evidence locker at the Sheriff’s Office. But I purposefully didn’t ask about that.

  I slurped my tea. “Dalton, this isn’t your fight. You should go home.”

  He shook his head, not looking at me. “Of course it’s my fight. Why wouldn’t it be? Bad guys attempting to steal power. Bad guys who changed me into a monster. Bad guys threatening you...it seems pretty clear-cut, no?”

  I sighed. “You shouldn’t risk any more than you already have.” This fight had changed him against his will, and I shuddered to imagine how much more this magic could hurt him.

  His mouth turned down. “Well, like it or not, I’m involved now, even if I didn’t want to be. If there’s any hope of fixing me, of taking this wolf off my hands, then it lies with you and your family.”

  “Dalton, I don’t know if we can fix this. I mean, we’ll try. We’ll do everything we can, but I can’t make promises. About anything.”

  He lifted his gaze to me then. His eyes were soft. “I know you can’t make promises. The time for promises between us is long past, but you saved my life. I owe you, no matter if you’ve moved on with Renan, or not.”

  My chest ached. I cared for Dalton. He was a good and just man, and I loved him once upon a time. Now that I could be honest with him, perhaps we could have rekindled something if Renan weren’t in the picture. But I couldn’t explain away that connection I felt with Renan. It was electric, some magical kismet that I couldn’t resist—that I didn’t want to resist. Maybe Belinda was right, and he was my fated love. But I saw the way that Dalton still looked at me, and it stirred in me a slow, aching burn I didn’t know what to do with.

  Dalton changed the subject. “I heard back from Sara, the woman with the pigs.”

  “How’s she holding up? Any report on the piglet?” I was almost afraid to find out.

  Dalton smiled. “Better. Her son’s moved back into the house to keep an eye on things. She says her cat is nursing the hell out of that piglet. Its eyes have started to open.”

  I grinned in relief. “That’s great news. I need to call her to see if I can visit when this is all over. That little cat of hers, Melody, is going to be a helluva momma.”

  Bristol trotted into the kitchen, tail wagging. What’s for supper?

  “Prescription dog food,” I chirped cheerily.

  His tail drooped. When can I have the regular stuff?

  “After you’re all healed up.”

  He looked up at me, his eyebrows working. And when can I go see Max and his auntie?

  I bit my lip. I didn’t want to tell him, but I needed to. I leaned down and put his head between my two hands, staring into his big brown eyes. “I got a call this morning from the social worker. Max and Aunt Grace are moving to the city. They asked me to take care of you. But we can visit when they get settled. I promise.”

  His eyebrows worked up and down. It’s because I was a bad dog and ate that thing.

  “No, no.” I rubbed his ears. I wanted to take him to see Max, but I had been told that Max’s aunt was spooked and heading out of Dodge immediately. Not that I blamed her. But animals still deserved closure, some way to deal with things that happened to them. “You are a Very Good Dog. There’s just a lot of dangerous men around who have bad intentions. None of that is your fault.”

  He sighed and snuffled my hand. Okay. I mean, I like hanging out with you and the other dogs. I just wish that Aaron and Max were here.

  “The other dogs?” I echoed.

  Bristol looked at Dalton. That guy and Renan. I mean, they’re dogs, right? They were running around in the field earlier today, and I ran with them. It was fun.

  “Sort of?” I wondered if they smelled like dogs now to Bristol.

  I opened a can and set the food down in a dish for Bristol. I felt bad for him. I felt bad for all the other animals in my care. I was afraid of what a war would do to them. I’d made some calls to try and get some of them transferred to other facilities, but no one could take my hodgepodge zoo of eccentrics with such short notice. And I struggled with what to do next.

  I walked out to the barn to make sure that the barn animals were settled for the night. Everyone but Taffy and the mice were asleep. I only detected Taffy’s presence by her twitching tail in the bottom of the cat food bag. Athena watched me as I placed frozen mice in her cage.

  Something’s happening, isn’t it? she asked.

  I sighed. “There are some bad people trying to take the farm. But we’re not going to let them.” I couldn’t let them. I couldn’t live with myself if I let something happen to the creatures in my care.

  I reached into the cage with a raptor glove, and Athena climbed onto my hand.

  “Do you want to try to fly?” I asked.

  She bobbed her head. She flexed her wings, pulling herself into the air. I watched as she gained altitude, her wings stretched wide. She swept across the barn floor, taking a circular path, skimming low to the ground and then up to the rafters.

  And without so much as a word, she swept through the open barn door, out into the twilight.

  I rushed to the door to watch. She glided over the meadow, a shadow against the purple sky. My heart soared for her, seeing that beautiful wild creature free once more.

  I watched her until she glided into the forest and I could see her no more.

  I stood still, my hand pressed to my chest and tears streaming down my cheeks. It was always like this when I released a wild creature, this fear and hope and pride and love, all churned together to the point of tears.

  Celeste walked up to me, a bucket in hand. Her gaze searched my face. “Are you all right?”

  I nodded. “Athena,” was all I could say. I was too choked up to say a
nything else.

  She set down the bucket and wrapped her arms around me. I sank into her embrace.

  “You did good, Luna,” Celeste said. “You always do the right thing.” She smoothed my hair back from my face and wiped my tears.

  I almost burst out laughing. “I sure don’t feel like I’m doing the right thing.”

  “Nonsense,” Celeste said. “Your instincts are always correct. Don’t doubt yourself.”

  I shook my head. “All this...the Casimir, Renan, and Dalton...it’s all so confusing and honestly frightening.”

  Celeste smiled at me. “And to think, a few days ago, I was thinking about buying a camper van and moving away. But things change, darling girl. They always do. But you’ll manage it. I believe in you.”

  I sighed. I wanted to be worthy of that faith. I wanted to be worthy of it, and be victorious in the battle I knew was coming.

  And I suspected that I couldn’t have both.

  When night fell, I knew my animal friends were patrolling the night. I glimpsed the stag and the does in the field, heard a nightjar calling. Frog and cricket song rose beneath a waxing moon. The wind blew in smells of rosemary, lavender, and dill from the garden, seeming as if the Earth herself breathed in the night.

  I sat out on the front porch, my shotgun resting against the wall behind me. I stared up at the road, wondering what threats would come, if tonight was the night. Or if the Casimir would wait until the full moon or the dark one...which one would grant them more power? I didn’t know. I didn’t like this sitting, waiting, for darkness to sweep down on us.

  Halley sat in the porch swing beside me, reading a spellbook by flashlight. She was dressed in a set of worn military fatigues and broken-in boots. She placed her finger in the book to hold her place and looked at me.

  “Luna. If we can’t keep the well from the Casimir, we may have to destroy it.”

  I blinked at her. “Can we do that? Like, with dynamite or something?”

  “I think so.” She handed me the book. “The vein can be closed with the sacrifice of a witch. If there’s intent, then it seems like it could be shut off.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want any of us to die for this.”