by Beth Byers
Hadley turned suddenly, feeling as though he was being watched, but there was no one. The hair on his arms, however, had risen, and he had little doubt that he wasn’t alone and also that whatever was watching him wasn’t natural.
Haunted grove, he reminded himself.
Hadley glanced up at the sky. It was late into the night, and he probably shouldn’t be doing this alone. He started towards the house, the wheelbarrow full of holly, and examined the trees as he went. There should be a tree that would do for a Christmas tree.
He didn’t make it to the green lawn before he collapsed.
Chapter 5
ECHO BEATRIX AZALEA WODE
“Have you seen my brother?” Margot asked as she slid into a seat at the breakfast table. The Misters Blacke had left the evening previous and they were left with only the ghosts and the English Wodes.
Echo looked up from her plate. She’d avoided the eggs which had white fish in them for some reason and erred towards the sausages and tomatoes once she’d verified it wasn’t blood sausage.
She shook her head.
“Usually he’s the first to breakfast,” Margot complained, “and asks if I want coffee brought to my room. I always do, but today he didn’t stop by. I suppose he’s trying to teach me a lesson.”
Echo lifted a brow but she didn’t say anything else. Margot, however, was prepared to whine.
“You’re lucky to have sisters. Brothers don’t understand how to properly care for a sister. He doesn’t really care about what I want and need.”
Echo paused and then couldn’t help but ask, “You expect him to supply your wants and needs?”
“He’s my brother, isn’t he?” Margot demanded, idly picking over the food, scowling at it, and then taking the entire bowl of raspberries and returning to the table with her tea and the raspberries.
Echo bit back her irritation at Margot’s greed. “So, you think having sisters would be better?”
“At least your sisters can understand you.”
“My sisters have no expectation of my sacrificing for their support,” Echo said flatly. “Nor do they automatically understand the wants and needs of my heart. I know you don’t know us well, but we’re all quite different.”
“The one needy for love, the good one, and the self-sacrificing matriarch?” Margot’s idle voice made Echo want to slap her into the next week. “I think I understand you quite well.”
Echo cocked her head as she examined Margot, considering the desire to tell her what her comments inspired versus controlling herself. Ariadne would want Echo to not alienate Margot and Hadley, so Echo sipped the last of her coffee, rose, and said, “I think I’ll go for a walk. Enjoy the raspberries.”
Echo felt the pressure of what she needed to do about the ghosts. Her gift might best serve to take that issue off Ariadne’s plate. Echo had purchased Ariadne a long strand of pearls with the allowance her eldest sister had given each of the sisters after coming into the English Wode money, but that felt like handing the wealth Ari had given Echo instead of giving her a true gift. Echo had taken the pearls apart and woven into them magic, wards, and runes on each of the pearls, but even still—it felt like half a gift.
Helping the ghosts to settle again, however, that was a true gift and Echo had awoken determined to resolve the issue. She crossed to the library and dropped onto the pentacle that was created in the light wood of the floor. She meditated for long minutes before she cast a spell to lead her to the spell books that could help with the issue.
She dove deep into the books until Ariadne stepped into the library.
“You missed lunch,” Ari said, setting a tray with bread, cheese, and fruit next to Echo. “What do you think? Can we settle the ghosts but keep Martha? I’ve never eaten so well.”
Echo laughed and then seriously considered. “Maybe?”
Ari hadn’t been serious but she was interested when Echo answered. “Try that bread. I asked Martha and she said there are spells on the conservatory that provide fresh fruit year round if you know how to use the conservatory as it was designed. There is also a creamery that does the same. Some ancient Wode with a love for cheeses did what I did with alcohol, but with cheese. I’m not sure I’ve loved any of our dead more than that one.”
Echo took a slice of cheese. It smelled of chives, garlic, and cheddar and she had to close her eyes when she ate it. “Oh my heavens.”
Ariadne nodded and they dove into the spells, considering the different ways to put the ghosts to rest.
“Have you seen my brother?” Margot asked Echo as she finally left the library. She blinked a little stupidly as she’d been reading books and studying the spell crafting from the moment she left the breakfast room. Hours upon hours of study had left her eyes tired, her head pounding, and her feeling extremely desirous of a hot bath before dinner.
“Ah, no,” Echo said, “though I spent the day in the library.”
Margot scoffed and ran up the stairs. Echo started to follow. The day before she’d taken the first unused bedroom she’d found. This time, she considered for a moment, and then called, “George?” with a touch of magic.
George dropped through the floors until his faded form appeared in front of Echo. He cocked his head and then demanded, “Are you going to send me back now?”
“I was wondering if you could help me with a tour of the house and a recommendation of finding a more long-term bedroom?”
George winked at her, howled low, and then whispered like it was a secret. “The main family always had rooms to the right of the main staircase.”
George led the way up the stairs and Echo followed. He pointed out Ari’s room. The little girls had taken the room immediately across the hall and Echo had taken the next room. There was nothing wrong with it, so to speak, but Echo wanted to judge how George was acting. He had calmed since Ari had threatened him, but his airy fingers didn’t stop moving or the way he hovered above the floor, rising up and down as he moved. If he were Medea, Echo would have guessed he was bouncing on his toes. There was no question he had too much energy, but it wasn’t a dark energy that came from feeding. She wasn’t sure what would happen to him if he were to stay.
“Do you want to go back through the thinning?”
He looked at her, his gestures becoming more frantic, before admitting, “Yes. That’s where my kindred are.”
There was a staircase at the back of the wing that led up and she followed George to find a tower room. It was two stories, with a bedroom and then a laboratory above it. Echo coveted it immediately. As she wandered the second floor, she stopped at the window. The sun had already set, but the moon glowed full and bright overhead. It would be truly full by Christmas night and an idea occurred to her as she looked upon it.
“This was my brother’s room,” George told her. “His name was Benjamin, and he infuriated my father so was sent to America, and the room was locked until after both my father and older brother died. One of the last things I did before I died as well was wander this room and wonder whatever happened to Benny.”
Echo turned to him and then admitted, “Benjamin Wode was the start of the Wode line in America.”
“So I guessed,” he said brightly.
She turned back to the window. “He married a necromancer.”
“Which was one of the reasons my father disowned him.”
“Your father would have hated me then.”
“More now, I think, given that you’re here and planning to send him home.”
“Is he here?” Echo demanded. “I would have thought he’d have haunted me then.”
“You?” George laughed. “He was never stupid. They’re in the grove, of course.”
“Oh Persephone,” Echo cursed. She looked towards the grove, focusing on her sight, and she saw ghostly trails all through the grove and property. “That’s not wonderful.”
“What are you going to do?” George asked lightly.
Echo didn’t answer him. She liked him well
enough despite the way he was like a child drunk on all the energy flowing through the house and grounds, but her responsibility was to the living—and to return the dead to their graves.
There was something nibbling at her awareness, but she was near blinded with the ghostly trails. She closed her eyes, delving into her mind and allowing instinct to turn her towards what was bothering her. When she opened her eyes, it took her a moment to decipher what was she was seeing, but when she did, she gasped.
A man-shaped shadow lay in the grass near the border of the ghostly trails. Echo raced down the stairs through the tower and down to the family wing, hurrying to Ari’s bedroom. She shouted to her older sister without slowing. Ari and Circe both answered Echo’s calls, and they joined in her flight towards the wood.
On the border of the grass, near the start of the grove, Hadley Wode lay, white, unconscious, and far too pale. Ari dropped to her knees while Echo turned to the grove, searching for what had happened to him. She found the pale form of a ghost child watching from the bushes.
“Are you all right?”
The child shook her head, old-style ringlets bobbing.
“What happened?”
“Some of the bad ones objected.” The girl’s voice was an otherworldly whisper Echo had to use her magic to hear.
“Objected?”
“To him welcoming the Americans in our home.” Her black spirit eyes met Echo’s black living eyes. “I want to go home. Mother is back there.”
Echo bit her bottom lip and then swore, “I’ll get you there, baby.”
“We’ll get you there,” Ariadne answered. “Come, Echo, take his other arm. You’ll need to channel earth magic to carry him. He’s heavier than he looks.”
Echo nodded at the ghost child. “It should be safest for you in the graveyard.” The girl’s eyes lit up as Echo promised again. “Go there, I’ll find you, and I’ll get you home.”
With Ariadne gripping one shoulder, Echo the other, and Circe on the legs, they got Hadley into the house.
“We’ll have to send Margot for Lucian Blacke,” Ari groaned.
The sisters struggled to get Hadley into the pentacle in the library. Circe dropped to the head of it, humming magic low in her throat as she etched Hadley’s face with runes.
“Use nature magic,” Echo encouraged. “Poor Hadley is a nature witch.”
Before Circe could comply, Ari knelt at the base of the pentacle, grasped Hadley’s ankles and her magic at the same time. Her eyes shifted from black as night to as green as a pine tree and as brilliant as the moon. Once they reached the house, Circe moved to his side and leaned down, breathing magic and warmth over his forehead.
It took Hadley several moments to react, but his white skin turned pale, then flushed with warmth as Ari channeled the excess magic of the house into him. He slowly sat up, wrapping his arms around himself. Echo wished she knew where to easily find a blanket in the cavernous house.
“There are ghosts in the grove,” he croaked.
“We’d noticed,” Circe told him softly before taking up the Greek-style lament that was a healing spell. He responded to the magic and the shivers racked him.
“They’re not very nice,” he told them, rubbing his hands over his arms. “Thank you for finding me.”
“Not everyone is a merry drunk,” Ariadne told him.
Together they said, “Wodes seldom are.”
Hadley laughed. “I suppose we really are family.”
“I suppose,” Ariadne agreed and then used her magic to call Margot to them.
Chapter 6
ARIADNE EUDORA WISTERIA WODE
“I have an idea about how to lay them to rest,” Echo said, “but we don’t have enough magic with only us, Hadley, and Margot.”
“Not enough magic?” Margot’s scoff was low and sarcastic. “Isn’t the problem too much magic?”
“I misspoke,” Echo said, shooting Ari an exasperated look. “We don’t have enough ability among the few of us to control the magic for our purposes without destroying ourselves.”
Lucian Blacke glanced between the sisters. “Father and I will help. There are more Wodes, you know. Ones who don’t want to live here but do care about the property and the family. They’ll help.”
“Then,” Ari said, “we need to get the word out that everyone is invited to come to the house Christmas Eve for a massive feast and a reoccurrence of the candle walk through the house, property, graveyard and grove. Echo, is that enough time to make the candles?”
Echo nodded.
“Circe, can you perfect your pied piper song by then?”
“Pied piper?” Lucian chuckled. “Clever, indeed. You’re combining your abilities?”
Ariadne nodded and Circe answered the question, “That’ll only take moments, but I need Echo’s help to test it. I was thinking we could use it for the poor little girl ghost tonight.”
Echo nodded. “That will work well.”
Lucian helped Ariadne with the spell work that they’d come up with. “I’m concerned that they attacked Hadley,” he confessed. It was said with a careful gentleness that addressed her own worries. She’d left Medea, Cassiopeia, and Faith teaching the ghostly Martha to make American style pies rather than risk them with any of the other, wilder ghosts.
Ariadne rubbed her brow. If she were home in America, she’d have so many options for how to keep the girls safe while they dealt with a magical problem. But here?
“I’m going to call my father and a few of my cousins and have them come with a tree and boughs,” Lucian said. “We’ll decorate for the dinner tomorrow, and perhaps you won’t object if we stay in the guest rooms in case there is an additional problem?”
“We would appreciate the help,” Ariadne replied carefully. “I am concerned for your children. And mine, to be honest.”
Lucian nodded. “We’ll keep them all safe. I could bring your younger sisters to my house?”
Ari hesitated. Lucian’s brother had dipped into dark magic. She hated to ask it, but she’d be damned before she let her sisters into the house with Lucians’ brother. “Is your brother there?”
“He’s in a special asylum, Miss Wode.” Lucian paused for a long time and then said, “My father would have been offended by that question, but I have children, and if my little ones had been hurt as Medea after my brother’s spell, I wouldn’t have been any more generous.”
Ariadne took hold of the talisman nervously and then looked up at him, trying not to notice quite how handsome he was. His attractiveness had, of course, increased in direct proportion to his helpfulness and kindness. “Thank you. They won’t be happy, though.”
“Of course,” Lucian agreed with a laugh. “Perhaps their gifts will help change their mood the next morning.”
Ari agreed and they returned to the planning. The day ended with Lucian taking Faith and the little girls when he left to invite the other witches in the area to help. She walked them out to the auto and swore to the girls she’d come get them the following evening after the dinner.
“But why can’t we come?” Medea asked.
“Because something happened to the mean Wode’s brother,” Cassiopeia told Medea. “They’re sending us away to keep us safe.”
“She’s right,” Ari said, squatting down next to Medea and then glancing to Faith with a plea in gaze.
“But we’re witches too,” Medea said softly.
“You’re brilliant witches,” Ariadne told her. “This is just what grown-ups do.”
Medea frowned deeply and Ari felt a rush of horrific guilt. “It’s not very Christmasy to not be together on Christmas Eve.”
Ari’s mouth twisted and then she said gently, “You’re right. But this isn’t a normal Christmas, is it?”
“I want to go home,” Medea said. “I want to light a candle for Mama and have pumpkin pie and see Aunt Beatrix and go to the church service and…”
Ari bit down on her bottom lip. “That’s not our life right now, Medea. We mu
st do the best we can with what we’ve been given. Look at that grove, darling. Look at the ridiculous house. No matter where we are, we’re still sisters, and it’s still Christmas, and I promise Christmas day will be magical and without ghosts.”
“I like Martha,” Cassiopeia said brightly. “It’ll be fun to play with Mr. Blacke’s children, Meds. And then we’ll be back for presents.”
“And pie?” Medea demanded.
Ari answered with a generosity she rarely felt, even on Christmas Day. “Pie, hot chocolate, something called a steamed Christmas pudding, a yule log. Whatever you want.”
Medea’s expression said she’d hold Ari to her promises. Ari stood and shut the auto door, turning to Lucian. “Thank you.”
“It’ll be all right.”
“I need to go cry now,” Ari muttered.
To her shock, the reserved Lucian Blacke tugged her into his arms and hugged her lightly, patting her back. It was incredibly awkward, but the kindness was all that was necessary to push Ari into the threatened tears. She backed away before she pushed his boundaries even more and pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, pressing it to her mouth.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I—it’s so hard.” Her head was shaking as she added, “I’m not the right person for this position. The Wode? What sick joke is this? I feel like the world is bamming me.”
Lucian was the one who shook his head. “It’s not possible to be accepted by a spell and have it be wrong, Ariadne. You have the bloodline, the skillset, and the right kind of magic.”
Ari bit her bottom lip and she glanced back to look at the house. It was ridiculous. The grove. The house. Ridiculous. She could tell Medea that those things were good, but they didn’t feel all that wonderful. They felt rather like heavy burdens.
“May I make a suggestion, Ariadne?”
She glanced at him and nodded.
“You’re pulled in two directions.”
She touched the pentacle necklace that rested against her chest under the Celtic cross. The pentacle was a spell that would tell her when it was safe for them to return to their hometown in Maryland. The other was the spelled jewelry that helped her to handle the cultivated magic of the Wode country house.