by Laura Bickle
“But we need to consider the worst-case scenario,” Halley said. “If we’re losing, we can’t let the power go to them. They’ll use it for terrible purposes. We have to close it.”
“If it comes to that...I’ll do it. I’ll throw myself into the well,” I said with certainty. I mean, it was my job. I was the eldest, right?
“Don’t be ridiculous. It should be me.”
I shook my head. “Halley, what the hell are you talking about? You have a life, a career, things to see beyond this farm.” I gestured to the sky, my fingers scraping the stars that she glided through every night.
Halley bit her lip. “I didn’t want to tell anyone. But my flying days are numbered. I...got word that I’m suffering from macular degeneration.”
“I’m sorry.” I knew what it was, but I didn’t know what it meant for disease progression in humans, what it meant for her. “Are they able to treat it?”
“Not really...my vision is going to go away. Fast or slow, I don’t know. But I’m eventually going to end up blind.” Her voice hitched.
I put my arm around her. I couldn’t imagine how difficult this would be for her. Halley had always been fiercely independent. Invulnerable, really. And she loved the sky, more than anything on earth. To ground her was the worst thing imaginable for someone with her deep wanderlust.
“It’s going to be okay,” I said. “You are not to throw yourself down any wells.”
She sniffled and rubbed her nose. “It’s not going to be okay.”
“Well, maybe we can find a magical solution. Some way to heal you.” I rested my hand against her temple. I had been able to keep Dalton’s blood in his body; maybe there was some way I could help her, too.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’d be lying if I said that part of my motivation to come home wasn’t for that, to see if something could be done for me magically. I’ve exhausted every scientific possibility.”
She rested her head on my shoulder, and I put my chin on the top of her head. “You’re going to be okay. We all are.”
We sat in the silence of that promise. I hoped to hell I could make it come true.
Something moved in the dark. I stared down at the yard, where a racoon waddled.
Luna! the raccoon exclaimed. The frog said the badger said the deer said there are people in the forest, beyond the graveyard, moving south.
“Thank you.” I rocketed to my feet, reaching for both the awl and the shotgun.
Halley nodded. “Let’s put the Casimir in the ground with their forefathers.”
CHAPTER 19
I waded through the tall field grasses, shotgun in one hand and awl in the other. My sisters were at my right and left, armed with Dalton’s guns and Estelle’s deadly gifts. We were flanked by a dozen of Halley’s illusions. She’d let her imagination run wild this time, and the illusions were a squad of army troopers, guns lifted and scanning the darkness. Halley could make illusions of anything she’d seen before, and I was thankful for her time in the military. They were convincing, even up close, when the red lasers of their sights swept into the grass.
I’d made Bristol stay home, charging him with the duty of protecting the house with Celeste. I wasn’t about to be drawn out by the Casimir only to be attacked from behind. Bristol took the duty very solemnly, staring at the front door with his tail thumping against the hardwood floor.
Renan had taken the shape of a maned wolf, slinking through the grass. Dalton was still on two feet, armed to the hilt and in uniform. He’d muttered to me that he didn’t have the hang of the transformation thing yet. Whether he was on two feet or four, I was grateful for his presence as we walked across the field into the underbrush.
The graveyard was just ahead. I scanned the dark, looking for the wards hung in the trees. I saw no movement, but I knew the Casimir were out there.
I nodded at Halley, and we swept into the graveyard, moving around the deteriorated stones. The forest was just beyond, black and tangled.
The graveyard badger peeped his head up out of a hole.
They’re there, he said. In the woods.
I nodded my thanks, and we moved forward. This was our land, and we had the advantage, I told myself. We fanned out by silent agreement, pressing into the shadows of the quiet forest. The animals, having given warning, had gone to ground. I didn’t blame them.
I came upon the first of the wards that Celeste had set. I reached up into the tree for it to examine it and swore under my breath.
It was broken. The twigs were smashed, the skirts torn, and the magic drained right out of it.
Renan growled at my side and lunged forward. In the distance, I could make out a series of shapes: men and beasts and glowing weapons. It looked like the contents of a comic book had spilled out on the forest floor: twelve men dressed in black, some carrying guns, while one carried a flaming sword. A grey wolf slunk through the undergrowth, while a bear stood up on its hind legs. A large bird swept overhead, interrupting the light of the moon, while a towering giant shambled behind them. Twice as tall as a man, a single eye set in a broad forehead blinked above a mouthful of jagged teeth.
“Is that a fucking cyclops?” Starr whispered.
“I think so.”
Silva stood in the center of the group, grinning. His fingers flitted up to the tooth around his neck. Without a word of challenge, he shifted into a maned wolf. He hit the ground running, racing toward us on four legs with teeth bared.
I fired. Gunfire echoed on both sides. Halley sent her illusions to the front, to draw Casimir fire. Silva’s men concentrated their fire on the illusions, but the shifters plowed ahead, snarling.
Renan and the wolf I assumed was the one called Bernard collided, rolling to the ground in a pile of snarling, growling wolf fur. I couldn’t get a clear shot, and I turned my attention to the bear, racing toward Starr with incredible speed. I fired at him, and the bear winced, but it kept coming for her.
Hell. I had to pause to reload. From the corner of my eye, I saw one of Halley’s illusion soldiers intervene between the bear and Starr. The bear swiped at the illusion, grunting in frustration as it failed to gain purchase with its claws.
Starr fired, landing two good shots before the bear plowed forward, through the illusion.
I screamed, but Starr lashed out with her sickle. It was a clumsy, glancing blow, but the bear fell down in heap instantly, as if it were a toy with its stuffing suddenly removed.
“Whoa,” she said, staring at the sickle. It glowed a faint sunshine yellow, like a crescent moon.
Dalton was bearing down on the wolf, his lips peeled back in a snarl. He shot at it, but the wolf ducked behind a tree, loping for the graveyard. I saw him turn to give chase, fury brewing in his eyes. I hoped that shifters were like vampires, that killing the creature that turned one would cause the curse to falter. Dalton seemed determined to do it, and if anyone could, I knew he would.
I shrieked as the eagle swept down and tore at my shoulders and head. I covered my head with my hands as its talons tore my jacket to shreds, gouging out strands of my hair from my ponytail. Talons bit into my flesh, and I slashed at the bird with the awl Estelle had given me, failing to make contact.
“Get off of her,” Halley grunted. I looked up through parted fingers to see Halley swing at the eagle with a hammer. Dodging her blow, it shrieked with a deafening sound and backed off, sweeping up into the trees.
The giant thundered toward us, grunting, sweeping his arms in haymaker punches, driving us away from the bird. I ducked, diving to the ground.
Halley teed up and struck the giant with the hammer. She landed a blow square in the chest. The giant staggered back, snarling...
...and shattered into pieces, as if he were made of glass. The pieces glittered in the leaf debris for a moment before going dark and vanishing.
I stared at the hammer in awe. “The giant...it was an illusion.”
Halley gestured with her chin. “I think the illusion gig is up. Theirs
and ours.”
Silva’s men had charged forward, ignoring the soldier illusions. I counted eight of the enemy men. One advanced with a flaming sword in hand, while another hurled a fireball in our direction.
I hit the ground, tasting dirt, as the fireball whizzed over my head.
“Where did they get fire spells?” I grunted, more than a little envious. I had tried to play with fire magic as a little girl and nearly burned down the kitchen.
Halley pulled me to my feet. “In the same crackerjack box they got the rest of this. We have to fall back.”
I cast around for Renan. I didn’t see him, and my heart lurched into my throat.
I shoved Halley toward the graveyard. “Go help Starr,” I said. “Pull up some more illusions...I dunno...something.”
She stubbornly looked back at me. “You can’t go after him.”
“I have to. Go.”
I turned and plunged into the woods. In the distance, sounds of yowling and growling echoed. The undergrowth was thick here, closer to the creek. I heard splashing, and climbed down the bank of the creek to see two maned wolves tearing at each other in the stream. Dark blood ran into the water, and I could smell copper.
I lifted the shotgun. This close, I couldn’t shoot one without harming the other. And I couldn’t tell, in the dark, which was which.
A gunshot rang out, and pain lanced through my chest.
I gasped, looking down to see red blossoming in my chest. I dropped the shotgun automatically to press my hands just below my sternum. Red leaked over my fingers as I fell to my knees.
I looked up to see one of the Casimir standing over me with a gun.
“It doesn’t always take magic to kill a witch,” he murmured. He aimed the gun at my face.
A furry shape launched itself at him, knocking him down. He thrashed in the water as the maned wolf ripped his throat out, making thick nasal sounds as he did so.
I looked upstream. The other canine was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps it was badly hurt or else had gone to join the rest of the Casimir to lay siege to the house.
I groaned, trying to assess the wound I’d suffered. I knew it was bad. My hands shook and I felt nauseous. It was hard to breathe, and I guessed I had a collapsed lung. I was hyperventilating, trying not to pass out. I willed whatever small magic that saved Dalton and healed Bristol into my hands, trying to staunch the flow of the blood. I felt it slow a bit, but it was too little. I knew that if I passed out, I was going to die.
Hands fell on my shoulders, and I jumped.
“Luna,” Renan said. “How bad is it?”
“Bad,” I mumbled, leaning back against him. I had thought I was going to die of boredom and old age, sitting in that house just beyond the field, doing my taxes for the veterinary practice. I hadn’t thought I would bleed out in the forest fighting a supernatural cult.
Renan pulled my shirt from my chest to inspect the damage. “Luna, stay with me,” he said, as my eyes began to drift closed.
I struggled to keep them open, though I was getting a bad case of tunnel vision.
“Luna,” he said again, shaking me hard. “I might be able save you, but it would mean changing you...making you like me. I won’t do this without your permission, but you must tell me.”
I looked up at him. The decision weighed heavily on me, taking on that curse from who knew where, without understanding all it entailed. But the alternative was death, and being unable to help my family protect what was ours.
“Do it,” I hissed.
I felt Renan shift against me, his skin turning to coarse fur. My eyes fluttered shut as sharp teeth dug into my throat, smothering anything else I might have said.
Darkness, like cold creek water, swept over me. I heard the sound of the water from a great distance, like a television turned low in another room, and then nothing.
I lay suspended in that darkness, listening to my pulse in my ears.
RENAN AND I STOOD ON a balcony overlooking an impossibly blue ocean. This had to be somewhere far away; blue didn’t happen like that in the United States. Sunlight shone down on us and glittered on the waves. Behind us, a town of whitewashed earthen buildings spread, clinging to a hillside among olive trees. The smells of wine and sea salt slid through my unbound hair.
Renan leaned on the edge of the stucco balcony and regarded me solemnly. He was wearing chinos, a white shirt, and sandals, looking as if he was on vacation. So did I; I was dressed in a yellow sundress I hadn’t worn since I’d gone on a vacation to St. Lucia in college. My arms were tanned, as if I’d been here for some time, gazing out at the sea.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“In my mind, this is Santorini,” he said. “It’s my most favorite place in the world.”
I gazed out at the ocean merging into sky, and murmured: “I can see why.”
“This was a place that the gods favored. Some even think that this was the place that gave rise to the myth of Atlantis. For me, it’s heaven.”
Gulls moved far out at sea, and the sun was warm on my skin. “Renan, why are we here?”
“You must decide. You must decide whether or not to come back to earth, or find your afterlife.”
“Is that how it was for you, when you were bitten?” My brows drew together.
“Yes. I came to this place, but I was alone then.” He reached out and took my hand. “I don’t know why our minds are intertwined, and I want to unravel this mystery with you.” His eyes searched my face. “But I won’t keep you here, if you wish to go.”
I scanned at the sea and sky, that heaven of Renan’s construction, and I looked at Renan. I glanced down at my arm, at the moon tattoo. I thought of the well, of my sisters and Celeste, and all the animals in my charge.
“Take me back,” I said. “I have to go back, whatever it costs.”
SOUND AND DARKNESS exploded back into my vision. Cold water washed over me, and I gasped.
I staggered and flipped in the water. My body didn’t feel like my own. The center of gravity was all wrong. I had extra limbs, and the overpowering scent of blood was all over me. I splashed, panting, and realized that I had changed.
I was a maned wolf.
I looked down at my awkwardly long legs. I stared into the dark at another such creature. Renan, I knew. He looked at me with dark, concerned eyes. I could make out every nuance of his expression; my night vision was exquisite. But my heart pounded and my ears twitched. I couldn’t get my legs under myself properly. I couldn’t...
Renan shifted, in a ripple of fur and cracking of bone, climbing to two feet. Taking the shape of a man once more, he quietly approached me. I bowed my head. His hand was warm on the nape of my neck.
“Breathe,” he said. “Just breathe and remember what it was like to be a woman. Be in your body and wiggle your fingers and toes. Close your eyes and feel your ribcage swelling when you breathe. Imagine your legs folded under you and your spine straight.”
I closed my eyes and tried to remember what it felt like not to have wet fur covering the entirety of my body. I concentrated as hard as I could, imagining all the dumb things that I hated about my body, my shitty posture and tangled long hair and that little finger that was bent a bit wrong because I slammed it in a barn door years ago and never had it looked at. Most of all, I focused on the moon tattoo on my arm, willing it into being.
My bones ground against each other. Hair swept over my shoulder. I felt my muscles pull. This was not a comfortable process; I felt as if I were pushing against some massive, painful chrysalis of flesh.
My eyes snapped open. Gasping, I realized that I was sitting in the creek with a cold, wet ass. But it was a human ass.
Renan stood over me, grinning. “You did it! And so quickly...it took me days to change.”
I stared down at my chest. I scrubbed at the bloodstains with my hands, pulling open my bra.
There was a wound there. But it was shallow, barely seeping. I took a deep breath. My lung had reinflated.
I grinned. I was going to live. I knew it.
Renan offered me his hand, and I took it, standing under the weight of that curse I saw reflected in his eyes.
But there was a war going on. Gunshots echoed in the distance.
“Let’s go,” I said. “This isn’t over, not by a long shot.”
We ran through the forest as quickly as we could. I was easily winded, but I forced myself to put one foot in front of the other until we spilled out into the graveyard, where the eagle was tearing at Dalton. He was covered in red wounds, trying to shoot at it. The other wolf circled him, nipping at his legs.
I rushed ahead, slashing with my awl. I caught the bird by surprise. It fluttered and twisted in the air, when I struck it. An arc of blood spilled out over the gravestones. It beat its wings once, twice, then fell over a tombstone, lifeless, like a discarded feathery cloak or one of the weeping angels I’d seen once in a picture of a New Orleans graveyard. It convulsed and churned, feathers twisting, and it seemed to turn inside out with a cry that sounded like a bird’s, fading into a man’s scream.
When that awful howl fell silent, I stared, gaping, at the tombstone. I looked down on what looked like a skinned glistening man. I knew at once that he was dead; no one could survive that kind of trauma. But my stomach heaved, and I fought back a wave of bile.
I turned away, searching for Dalton. He was circling the wolf, wiping blood from his mouth.
“This one and I have a score to settle,” he growled. “And I’m gonna do it like a man, not a beast.”
The wolf launched itself at Dalton. Dalton shoved it back. He wasn’t that strong before. I gaped as he held it at arm’s length and punched it. The wolf flopped over, stunned.
To my shock, Dalton pulled out his service weapon and fired on it. It convulsed once, twice, and stilled.
I stared, my heart in my mouth. I knew that Dalton would never be cruel to an animal, and I reminded myself that this was not an animal. Already, the wolf was taking the shape of a man in what I assumed to be its death. I recognized the man from the hospital, the one he’d shot in another forest like this.