The shower would have to wait. Harlow needed to talk to the only person she could think of who might have the answer for that.
The keeper of the lightning tree. Lally.
Chapter Eleven
Fenton and Grantham were still in the library talking and from the sounds of it, Dulcinea and Sydra had joined them. Plans were being made. That made Harlow happy, but she’d be happier when she had a few of her own in place.
She rapped softly on Lally’s door. “Lally? You still up?”
The door opened a few seconds later. “Child, what are you doing not in bed? You should be showered and asleep.” But Lally moved to let her in anyway. “What can I do for you? Does Augie need something?”
Harlow entered and shut the door behind her. “He’s passed out cold, he’s fine. I need to talk to you because honestly, I don’t know who else to go to.”
Concern creasing her forehead, Lally nodded. “Of course. I’m always here when you need me. C’mon and sit down.” Lally led her to the small sitting area near the window and sat. Harlow joined her. “What’s troubling you?”
Harlow quickly explained her theory about Ava Mae being in the holding pit. “She was already weak, so I don’t know if it’s possible but if it is…”
Lally’s hand went to the charms around her neck. She caressed the locket, rubbing it between her fingers. “She was far away from the tree. Weak enough to lose her grip on you. But that doesn’t mean weak enough to fade away.” Lally took a slow breath. “As much as I know about the tree and its power, I’d say she’s still in that pit. The shock of going through that magic was enough to make her lose her hold on you and from what you were saying, she was already slipping.”
“So freeing everyone inside it would free her, too?”
Lally tipped her head to one side like she was considering that. “It could. And that would not be good. She would find her way into someone else. Force that person to make their way back here, back to the tree.”
“What if that person was one of the witches?”
Lally’s brows rose. “That would be especially not good.”
“So how do I fix this?”
“We, child. You’re not alone in this.” Lally smiled. “I have an idea but it’s not going to be easy. Dangerous, in fact.”
“I don’t care. I would do anything to keep her from taking over another person. I want to be done with her.” Harlow leaned forward. “What do I have to do?”
Lally lowered her voice and her gaze shifted toward a door on the far wall. “I’m gonna have to get a piece of the tree, but that’s not the hard part.” She took a breath. “You’re gonna have to go back to the witches’ and put that piece in the pond.”
Harlow sat back, her body tensing. “I don’t know if I can go back there.” The thought of ending up back in that pond, or worse, with Ava Mae inside her again, sent a shudder of fear through her. But Cy needed her. All those other people trapped in that well of souls needed her. And if putting a piece of the tree into the pond meant she’d never have to deal with the twisted thing the tree had turned her sister into, then Harlow was just going to have to dig deep and find a way to do it. She lifted her head to look at Lally.
Lally’s gaze held compassion. “It’s a scary thing, ain’t it? Returning to a place where so much bad happened to you. I understand not wanting to go. I guess I can—”
“No, Lally, you can’t do this.” Harlow blew out a breath, forcing the fear out of her system. “I can do it. I don’t want to and I don’t like the idea, but if it’s what has to be done… I’ll find a way. Can you explain why?”
“Sure. Putting a bit of the tree in there should take care of things. Ava Mae is weak right now—she ain’t got you and the tree is too long a way off to help her. She’s nothing but a loose spirit looking for a new home. We’re going to give it to her. That way, if she breaks free of the witches’ magic, the branch will act like a magnet, drawing her to it and containing her the way a new body would. It should last until you and Augie can retrieve it.”
“Then what?”
A dark light shone in Lally’s eyes. “Then we burn it, child. Then she can’t be a bother to anyone ever again.”
“And if it doesn’t last until we can retrieve it?”
Lally stared at her hands for a moment. “That’s the downside. It might give her enough strength to get back inside someone else, but I have a feeling you and Augie are going to keep those witches from getting any further with whatever it is they’re planning.”
Harlow stood. “Get me that piece. I’ll do whatever I have to do to get it into the pond.”
Lally got to her feet. “Going to take me a few. Go have your shower if you want.” She glanced at the robe Harlow still wore. “At the very least, get yourself some clothes on.”
“I know she’s gone. That’s the reason I came down here.” Augustine tried to temper his anger, but the doctor’s meds had given him a nightmare. Bad enough to wake him. When he’d realized Harlow wasn’t beside him, he’d gone to look for her and found she wasn’t in her bed, either. “Lally, where is she? Why do I feel like you’re purposefully keeping something from me?”
“I’m not keeping anything from you. Harlow had to take care of something important.”
“And she went alone?”
“Yes.” Lally crossed her arms.
“Why?
“Because she didn’t need an old woman tagging along and you sure weren’t in any shape to help her.”
He shoved a hand through his hair. The drugs were still in his system, but fading fast. His anger had probably amped up his metabolism. Both were contributing factors to the fresh pain throbbing like a second heartbeat in his body. “Lally, I’m in no mood for this. Where is she?”
Lally sighed and pursed her mouth in a resigned sort of way. “She’s gone to the witches’ to—”
“What? Why the hell would she go back there?”
Challenge filled Lally’s gaze. “I sent her. And if you’d let me finish, I’ll tell you why.”
“I wish you would.” He couldn’t believe that Lally, of all people, had done something so stupid. If there wasn’t an amazingly good reason, he was going to lose it.
Lally filled him in on the particulars.
It didn’t help his mood. “She’s going back to the pond.”
“Yes. You gonna yell at me?”
“No. I don’t have time. I’ll be back when I’m back.” He brushed past her and slipped into his half form as soon as he stepped outside of the house. His half form was a creation more smoke and shadow than flesh and blood. In the dark of night, it rendered him nearly invisible, but even better, it allowed him to move silently and right now, he needed quiet speed. It also seemed to take the edge off his pain.
He took off toward the witches’ house, slowing only as Harlow came into view. She’d flattened herself against the high stucco wall that surrounded Zara’s property and contained the garden. He sidled up beside her, shifted back into his solid form and slipped his hand over her mouth while whispering in her ear. “Harlow, it’s me. Don’t make any noise. I’m here to help.”
Eyes wide, she turned to see him, her pulse thumping in his ears. As soon as her gaze landed on him, she relaxed.
He pulled his hand away, careful to keep his voice low. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I should ask you the same thing,” she whispered back. “You’re supposed to be all drugged up and resting. I guess Lally told you what I was doing.”
“She told me enough.”
Harlow sighed and tipped her head back against the stucco. “What happened to the drugs the doctor gave you?”
“I have a fast metabolism.” Made faster by his ill temper. “They’re mostly gone.” His ribs were killing him and the pain had been amplified by the running he’d just done. But he wasn’t about to let her do something like this on her own. “Lally said you had to get back in the garden to drop the branch into the water and keep Ava Mae from
hurting anyone else.”
“That’s the short version.” She explained further what it might mean if Ava Mae really was still in the well of souls. “Lally thinks putting a piece of the lightning tree into the pond will draw Ava Mae like a magnet and then we can recover the piece when we take the witches down. Lally will take it from there.”
“That’s all well and good, but there’s got to be an easier way. One that doesn’t involve sneaking onto Zara’s property.”
“You can’t just fling the branch over the wall and hope for the best. The only way to make sure it’s in the water is to go into the garden and do it properly.” She frowned at him. “I’ll give you thirty seconds to come up with something better, then I’m headed in.” She edged toward the tall iron gate. Even from here, it made his skin crawl.
He ground his teeth together. “No.”
She stopped and looked back at him. “No what?” she hissed.
“You’re not going in.” He glanced at the top of the wall. “I am.” He held out his hand. “Give me the branch. Look, I can easily jump that wall, then make myself virtually invisible once I get on the other side. I’ll drop the stick in and be back here before you know it.”
She looked like she was about to argue.
He sighed. “You should have let me do this in the first place.”
“I was trying to let you heal.”
He softened his tone. “I appreciate that, but you’re also at risk here—what if Ava Mae was just waiting for you to come back so she could slip inside you again?”
Harlow’s eyes rounded slightly as if that possibility hadn’t occurred to her. “I’ll let you do this on one condition.”
“What?”
“We get home, you’re going right back to bed. You need to heal.”
That he did. “Agreed.” He’d expected more of a fight, but then maybe Zara’s pond wasn’t a place Harlow was eager to visit again.
He must have been right because her shoulders dropped like a weight had been removed from them. “Lally wants a soil sample, too.”
“For what?”
Harlow shrugged. “Said she wanted to know what she was dealing with.” She reached into her jacket and pulled out a long narrow thing tied up in an old scarf. “Here’s the piece of the tree.” He reached for it but she pulled it away before he could grab it. “Do not touch it under any circumstances.”
“Got it.” This time she let him take it. He stuck it in the back pocket of his jeans.
She handed him a little plastic sandwich bag. “For the soil.”
“Thanks.” He tucked that in a front pocket. “Anything else?”
She made a strange face. “Yes.” Then went up on her tiptoes and kissed his mouth. “Be careful. Remember Cy’s in there.”
“I know. That part’s killing me.”
“Me, too.”
“Okay.” He gave her a little nod goodbye. “I’ll see you at home.”
She frowned. “You’ll see me right here. I’m not going anywhere until you’re done.”
“Stubborn as your mother,” he muttered.
She squinted at him, the moonlight turning her eyes almost colorless. “I heard that.”
“Back in a few.” He took a couple of steps away, then sprang over the wall.
He bent his knees as he landed, but the impact, even on grass, forced him to stifle a groan as his ribs protested. He fell forward onto his knees and stayed there, waiting a few breaths to make sure he hadn’t tripped some kind of witchcraft alarm system. The house remained dark.
He returned to his transparent half form and crept toward the pond, keeping in the tree shadows as much as possible for good measure. The moon wasn’t full, but it was bright enough to see by and he didn’t want to risk it. When he got to within feet of the water, he dropped to the ground and crawled the rest of the way. His ribs made it slow going, but he gutted it out.
At the pond’s edge, he stopped behind a clump of tall, feathery grasses. He stared through them into the water. Slivers of white and orange undulated beneath the surface. Koi, he realized. Hard to imagine that this pond was really more of a hellmouth and that somewhere under that water was one of his lieutenants.
He took the branch from his pocket and unwrapped it until he held it in two scarf-draped fingers. It was black and sooty and smelled of ash and dark magic. He tossed it into the pond. With a small splash it hit the water and sank. Little ripples rode toward his hiding place. He stuffed the scarf back into his pocket.
Not wanting to be there longer than he had to, he used the dagger in his boot to pry up a chunk of earth, bagged it and made his way back to the wall. He leaped over, and again the landing sent new jolts of agony through him. He hissed out a breath and leaned back against the wall until the pain dissipated, somehow managing not to pass out.
“Are you okay?” she whispered.
He nodded, trying to breathe through the dull ache that had taken hold of his entire body. If she thought he was going to put up a fight about going back to bed, she was dead wrong. He might fall asleep before he made it to bed. He slumped against the stucco wall. Exhaustion and pain had begun to shut his body down. “Dropped the stick in. Dirt’s in the bag.”
“You look like crap.”
He felt like crap. The best he could do was nod.
Without another word, she looped his arm around her shoulders and started walking him back to the house.
Chapter Twelve
Morning light spilled through the door as Ian came in from the garden. Giselle was just pouring her first cup of coffee. They’d both spent the night at Zara’s. With them being so close to finishing the preparations for the ruina vox totem, it made sense. And if she was truthful, she worried that leaving Zara alone would cause her sister to crack under the pressure of maintaining the ancillary spells necessary for the chaos magic to be viable.
Wiping out all fae magic would be a triumph, but not if she lost her sister in the process.
He lifted his gaze toward the ceiling. “She still sleeping?”
“Yes. I thought it best to let her get as much as possible.”
He poured a cup of coffee. “It’s wearing on her, isn’t it?” He shook his head. “And that’s wearing on you.”
She stirred in a spoonful of sugar. “She’ll be fine and so will I.” Becoming close to Zara again had made Giselle protective of her, like when they were children, but they weren’t children; they were adults. Giselle couldn’t force Zara to do anything she didn’t want to. Like admitting the strain of the spellwork was too much. Although, it wasn’t like Ian couldn’t see it for himself. “I hope.”
“I could give her some more ink. Increasing her power couldn’t hurt.”
Giselle sipped her coffee. “You can ask her, but she’s already stressed with maintaining these spells… I don’t know if adding pain, however brief the duration, would be the right thing to do.”
“Maybe not.” He set his cup down. The black liquid gleamed with his reflection. He hooked his thumb toward the garden. “We’re ready as soon as she’s up.”
“Who’d you get?”
“Couple of transients camped out by the river. No one will miss them.”
Giselle straightened. One of the reasons they’d been selectively choosing people was to not only pick those who wouldn’t be missed but also those who were of sound mind. “You’re sure they’re in good shape mentally?”
He shrugged. “A soul’s a soul, right? Does it matter if the gray matter is fully functioning?”
With a sigh, she shook her head. “Actually, it might, but at this stage of things what matters more is getting this spell cast so Zara can rest.”
“What’s your plan after the fae are powerless?”
She took another long, slow sip, buying herself some time. Her plans were numerous, but for the most part, they’d only been shared with Zara. And they’d both agreed not to tell Ian about the lightning tree, which would be their first stop. Every witch in the parish would want a
piece of that tree for themselves. It was imperative that she and Zara take control of Augustine’s house and secure the tree as soon as possible. She smiled. “Getting rid of the Guardian will be our first priority.”
Ian smirked. “You think he’s noticed his little girlfriend is missing yet?”
“It’s not much past dawn. Augustine doesn’t strike me as an early riser. I’d say not yet.” Besides that, she suspected the senator might be keeping him busy with some issues of her own.
“What’s not yet?” Zara leaned against the open doorway into the kitchen. Dark smudges shadowed her eyes. For a green witch who spent most of her time outdoors, she was terribly pale.
Giselle turned. “We were talking about Augustine figuring out Harlow was missing. How are you? I thought you’d sleep longer.”
“I tried.” Zara smiled weakly. “Holding this spell is like having a loose tooth. It’s impossible to ignore for any length of time.”
“I got the last two souls,” Ian offered. “We can cast them in whenever you’re ready.”
She yawned and nodded. “That would be good. Once that’s done, I can lock the pit. That’ll take some of the pressure off.” She glanced at Giselle. “I know you’re eager to cast the ruina vox totem, but I worry that if I don’t sleep before we do that, I might make a misstep and that could be fatal.”
“Agreed. You should sleep. In fact, I insist. We’ll get these last souls in, then you can go back to bed for the rest of the day. Casting the spell at twilight will only strengthen it. Chaos magic thrives on the in-between hours anyway. How about that?”
“That sounds great.” Zara tightened her robe. “Let’s go do it.”
“Don’t you want a cup of coffee or anything?”
“Not if I’m going back to bed.” She slipped on the shoes she kept by the French doors and headed for the garden.
Giselle and Ian followed. Two men lay on the stone path at the front edge of the pond, struggling as if bound with rope, but Ian had used magic so nothing physically held them, making their struggles oddly comical. If not for the terror in their eyes, they would have looked like Jackson Square mimes. “Ian, would you do the honors?”
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