by Ashley McLeo
“We should do a circle to bring her back from the brink of death, like how we brought Florence back. I know she’s not blood, but she’s as good as. And she’s not quite dead so it should be easier right? With all our power channeled into her?” Lily asked suddenly.
After what seemed like a million years, Fiona responded.
“You’re right in thinking the potions don’t seem to be strong enough. Something should have happened by now. A circle could work . . . you and Em did have a close relationship. Stronger than most mothers and daughters. And since we’re both healers, that would help.”
“Even with cursed bites?” Brigit countered.
“I’m guessing they’ve been feeding on Emily since they captured her. Centuries ago, vampires would keep empaths as pets to feed on. They said it helped them feel again. Em’s age is against her, but with all our power and the fairy blood, it might work.” Fiona said the words as if testing them for the first time.
“I’ll channel,” Lily said, springing into action.
They knelt above Emily and Lily felt a jolt of energy like the one she experienced Samhain night as their hands clasped together. The power of blood forming a bond. Here goes nothing, Lily thought, as words flew off her tongue.
* * *
“I call to the forests, thick upon Earth.
I call to the winds dancing above.
I call to fire, savior of this night.
I call to the ocean which no man can tame.
Resurrect this woman.
By the power given to me,
As I will so mote it be.”
* * *
Though the words had been unpoetic, Lily knew it didn’t matter. Magic was, at its core, all about belief, and Lily had never believed more that what she was doing would work.
Fiona’s earthy healer’s touch and Brigit’s prodigious mix of fire and earth magic flooded into Lily’s body. She gasped as her blood began to burn, set aflame by possibilities. I could level cities right now, she thought. I wish Empusa and Amon were here. I would end this conflict once and for all, she seethed, burning hot.
Don’t let the fire run away with you. Brigit’s voice wafted through Lily’s head, wrenching her focus back to Em.
Opening her eyes, Lily looked down at Em, her broken body lying on a pile of filthy blankets, last used for who knew what unsavory purposes. She loosened her grip on Fiona and Brigit fearfully. As her fingertips fell into bare air, Lily felt the power of three witches rampaging through her blood. It was immortality defined. For a split second she wondered how Evelyn had handled harnessing the power of seven. No mortal should ever feel like this, Lily thought as fire and earth trampled her insides, begging to be released.
Placing her hands on Em’s heart, Lily worked instinctively, transmuting and siphoning off the collected power at a painfully slow pace. “Salus.” She whispered the healing charm as the final stream of magic trickled out of her. Her hands trembled as she pressed hard on Em’s heart, her breath hitched high in her lungs.
Then Lily felt it. Em’s heartbeat thumped to life with such force Lily feared it would explode from her chest. Its rhythm, glacial at first, gained speed, surging past normal within seconds, as if making up for lost time. Elation soared within her as Em’s eyelids fluttered. They had done it!
A wave of fatigue overtook Lily and she sat back on her heels. She hadn’t realized how close she had been to passing out, how much power she had given. It was worth it, she thought, her eyes meeting Brigit’s crinkled ones.
“Well done, Lil,” Brigit said.
Lily smiled. She was about to ask Fiona if there were any potions they should prepare when an ethereal hiss filled the room.
A gale of wind concentrated at her chest tossed Lily backwards ten feet. She landed on her butt and a flame gate materialized around her.
What the—oh shit! Lily thought, jumping up to peer through the flames.
Em stood tense between Brigit and Fiona, who were circling her with hands extended and ready to fight.
What’s going on? Why are they fighting Em? Lily wondered, jumping to get a better view.
Emily’s head swiveled at the motion. Her hazel eyes were bright red.
Lily gasped.
Emily growled and leapt at Brigit, exposing very long, sharp canines.
They had been too late. Em had changed. Aoife’s words from hours before flashed through Lily’s mind.
“A newly reborn vampire is the most dangerous creature on Earth. They’re unreasonable and answer only to their sire and blood. Their blood lust is so unquenchable they’d drain entire cities without a second thought.”
But that couldn’t be true for kind, non-confrontational Em. I can get through to her, Lily thought.
“Em! Em! Leave them alone! Come over here. I want to talk to you!” Lily called waving her arms in hopes of diverting Emily’s attention.
“Stop Lily! She won’t recognize you. She doesn’t know—oh!” Fiona fell to the ground, her shield charm deflecting Em’s forceful punch as Em ran past her to Lily.
“Em! You’re alive! I’m so relieved. Now we can—”
Em hurled her body at Lily, stopping only inches from the flames, her teeth bared and red eyes wild.
“Let me through! Your fight is futile. I need blood and I won’t stop until I get it,” Em’s voice was cruel and hard as she began to prowl the edges of the flame gate, looking for an opening.
“No, Em. It’s me, Lily. You can fight it. I know you can. I love you. We can go to the hospital and get you blood so you’re not hungry. If you just calm down—”
“Blood! Give it to me, you filthy witch! I’ll suck you dry once I get in,” Emily screamed. Her eyes were distant and predatory as she stared Lily down, unrecognizing that the daughter of her heart stood before her.
Lily gasped. Her Em would never say that. She sought Brigit’s eye. Her mother’s body was taut, ready to fight, but tears streamed down her face. She had an open shot at Em, who was distracted by Lily, and she wasn’t taking it. The reason why hit Lily like a brick to the face. She’ll protect me, but she can’t bring herself to kill someone I love. My family. She won’t put me through that.
Em was salivating as she circled the flame gate at a speed human Em would never have been able to achieve. Lily shuddered as she took in Em’s slinky gait, her red savage eyes as they bore down, desperate to sate her hunger. She was bloodlust embodied.
Watching her, Lily felt sure even draining all the blood from her body couldn’t quench Emily’s thirst. She’d move on to Brigit, Fiona, and then who knew? There was a whole city out there, and Emily’s sire, Amon, was nowhere in sight. Not that he would do anything to rein Em in, Lily thought. That fucker would probably delight in his protege and use her as a weapon. Em would hate that.
Lily knew what she had to do. She couldn’t place the burden on anyone else. As it always was with magic, it had to be her choice.
Her hand warmed effortlessly as two fireballs, the largest she'd ever made, grew in her palms. Goodbye, Em, she thought, before seeking Brigit’s eye once more and requesting that her mother lower the flame gate.
The Tree of Life
Lily stayed perfectly still as Sara dressed for the day. Through her eyelids she could tell the sun was managing to peek past the ever present gray clouds. She took it as a sign.
Since the abysmal rescue mission, everyone had gone above and beyond to ensure her comfort. Even Evelyn had offered to switch rooms to give Lily privacy, and while she craved solitude, Lily declined the offer. It was best for her to be around others in her state, even if she ignored them most of the time. Before, sharing a room with Sara had always seemed a minor inconvenience. Now she was thankful for every bit of warmth and vitality her sister radiated as she flitted in and out of their room.
Today is the day, Lily thought as the door clicked shut behind Sara. The day she emerged from their room for more than a hop across the hall to the toilet. Maybe I’ll go outside? The idea seemed as inc
redible as traveling across the ocean in a canoe. The kitchen first, she amended, easing herself into a seated position. The scent of her unwashed body rose with her. Lily wrinkled her nose. It hadn’t been as noticeable beneath the thick blanket. Her ankles popped as she swirled them in circles before touching down on the cold wood. She waited for a head rush to pass before daring to put weight on the wobbly, achy limbs that bore little resemblance to her strong distance runner’s legs.
Selecting her outfit from a pile on the floor, Lily dressed herself for the first time in a week. Thank goodness there’s no mirror in here, she thought, cracking the door open to listen. A couple minutes of eavesdropping confirmed Brigit, Sara, and Evelyn were the only ones home. Three people I can deal with, she thought, slipping through the door and down the hall.
Her mouth filled with saliva at the hardy scents of thyme, onion, and meat wafting through the cottage.
“Smells amazing. Mind if I have a bowl?” Lily asked, hovering at the edge of the kitchen.
“Of course!” Brigit said, eyes wide with shock as she leapt from her seat. “Pull up a chair. I’ll bring it to you.”
Lily lowered herself into a chair. A cozy fire burned at her back, and the rain began its daily drum at the window. A bowl of stew materialized in front of her. It would have been a perfect lazy day, if such a thing were possible any longer.
“So, what does everyone have going on this afternoon?” Brigit asked casually, as if her eldest daughter had not spent a week hiding in bed.
“Aoife is coming by soon. We’re working on ceremens, projecting memories out like she does. I haven’t had much luck yet, but I feel like I’m getting closer. Then I’m packing,” Evelyn said.
“Packing?” Lily asked, her spoon halting midair.
“Your aunts and I decided it’s best that you three be given the opportunity to spend a little time with your families. We were going to let you know today. Evelyn is leaving tomorrow afternoon. We bought a ticket for you at the same time if you want to use it.”
“I’m staying here,” Sara said matter-of-factly.
A sharp pain pierced Lily’s chest. While a part of her yearned for her family in Oregon, another part, the part that blamed herself entirely for Em’s death, feared returning. What would life at Terramar be like without Em? she wondered.
“Can I let you know tonight?”
“Of course,” Brigit said with an understanding smile.
Lily was grateful for Sara’s ability to keep a room full of life and chatter. She half listened as her sister began describing one of her recent lessons on how to shoot fireballs from her hands machine-gun style. It seemed that lessons had become more militant since their return from Alexandria. A good idea, Lily thought, recalling her pitiful self-defense tactic in the grand hall. If she hadn’t been so enraged to see Amon sucking Em’s blood, she probably never would have felt her first fireball fly from her hand.
“More stew?” Brigit asked, reaching for Lily’s bowl.
Lily looked down and saw the bowl was empty. She shook her head, ignoring the protestations of her stomach.
“I’m going to take a walk in the forest,” she said as an overwhelming urge for the scent of trees and dirt came over her. She rose to discard her bowl in the sink before Brigit had a chance to serve her up another.
“Alright, Lil. Make sure to wear a jacket. There’s been a chill lately.”
Brigit wasn’t lying. It is freezing, Lily thought, shielding her face from the wind and light rain. She considered turning around and cozying up next to the fire on the couch, but instead she kept walking forward. She needed to feel the woods, hear the wind weaving through the trees, smell wet dirt and feel her feet sink into it. She needed to witness the Earth, alive and well, even if she caught hypothermia in the process.
She began to run. Her legs were shaky at first, until the muscles recalled the feel of motion, stretching and contracting beneath old baggy sweats, warming her body from the inside in a way she hadn’t felt for days. Passing the lake, Lily broke through the tree line at full speed with the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears. The wind, a howling banshee across the fields, faded with each step she took, dulled by the trees until it died out completely. On their own accord, her legs began to slow to a run, a jog, and finally a walk.
The trees surrounding the cottage were naked now. Their leaves covered the ground like a decaying blanket. But in this patch of wood, dense evergreens gave the illusion that summer was still possible. That turning back time was possible. The thought comforted Lily as she veered off the path she’d been on into the unknown. As a child she never feared getting lost in the woods, one fact that hadn’t changed, though it seemed everything else had.
For the last week Lily’s thoughts had been on a continuous loop—Liam, Amon, Empusa, Em, the book, and repeat—each one so thoroughly covered in her mind that her head ached. The one that stole most of her attention was also the one she tried her hardest to push away. The book. What if they had found it in time and given it to the vampires right away? Amon and Georgina wouldn’t have fed on Em. Lily wouldn’t have tried to bring her back like an idiot. Emily never would have risen as a vampire.
I wouldn’t have had to kill her, Lily thought.
Lily kicked a pile of dirt before collapsing to the ground beneath a towering oak still clinging to the last vestiges of fall. She threw her head back, grateful for the cushion of the jacket’s hood as it hit the oak’s hard bark. Her mind slowed as she watched the leaves clinging to the branches above swaying in the wind and rain. Oaks had always been her favorite tree, a trait that Brigit had immediately tied to Lily’s Irish blood.
“None worshipped the oak as devoutly as the Irish. Druids preferred the oak grove above others as the site of their religious rituals,” Brigit said as they combed the woods for Adder’s tongue on a moonlit summer evening a lifetime ago.
Lily since learned it wasn’t only the Druids that felt bonded to the oak. Zeus, Jupiter, Hecate, Thor, Jumala, and Brighid all considered the tree sacred. Sara had told her that in Ireland, some believed that fairies lived in oaks, and witches danced beneath them under a full moon. Fiona considered the oak tree an ancient symbol of protection with the power to heal. The tree of life, Lily thought, gazing up the thick trunk past the smallest branches to the gray clouds above. She’d read once that an oak tree’s roots dug as deep as the branches flew high. She imagined the roots of the oak she leaned against below her. How they wound their way through dirt. Growing through buried bodies and past treasure secreted away by men long dead. True or not, the romanticism of the idea was enough for her to love them.
I’ll plant one someday, Lily thought, placing her hands on the cold bark. When this is over, and life is normal. I’ll name it, watch it grow, show my kids how to climb it.
A jarring image of an oak erupting from Fern Cottage’s floors past Brigit’s head flashed in her mind, interrupting Lily’s fantasy life.
Yeah, that’s not what I meant, she thought, annoyance flashing as her fingers traced the outline of the bark. Why can’t I just think of pleasant things—?
“Holy shit.” Her fingers froze.
The tree of life. A witch’s tree. I grew one when I still in utero. What was it Mary said in the prophecy? Uproot? Find? Seek? What if?
Lily burst through the cottage door ten minutes later, wheezing and clutching her side.
“Lily!” Brigit cried jumping up from her armchair, “What happened? Are you alright? Aoife! Mary! We need help!”
Rubbing the cramps from her side, Lily allowed herself to be led to the couch. God, I’m so out of shape, she thought as her aunts and sisters streamed in from various parts of the cottage, anxiety written across each of their faces.
“The prophecy. What exactly did you say, Mary?” she said sucking in air between each word.
“The whole thing?” Mary asked, looking alarmed at being asked to recite a prophecy from twenty years prior.
“Just the ending. Before y
ou collapsed.”
Mary paused for a second before answering. “Find Seraphina’s tome,” she said her tone confident as her eyes searched Lily’s in question.
Lily slumped in her seat. Of course. It would have been too easy . . .
“Actually,” Aoife interjected hesitantly, “Your exact words were, ‘Unearth Seraphina’s tome.’ I’ve lived it often enough and I’m fairly confident that’s what they were.”
Mary shrugged, unconcerned with such insignificant quibbles of language.
Lily’s heart flew into her throat. “Where did the oak tree grow from?”
The room fell silent. Only then did Lily realize how out of left field she must seem. Out of breath, disheveled, unbathed for days, and babbling about a tree.
“The one I grew when we were born,” she explained, trying to sound as sane as possible.
“Why—” Mary began.
“Are you asking for the exact spot?” Brigit asked.
“Over here,” Aoife said, grabbing Lily by the hand and leading her around the hearth. “It’d be about here,” she said, stopping two feet from the dining table, “though since Brig had to have hundreds of roots pulled up and the whole floor replaced, it’s impossible to be sure.”
Lily’s knees hit the hard floor and she winced. Placing her hands flat on the ground, she began to run them over the wood, asking the earth below for a sign. Frustration bubbled inside her, turning into a rolling boil as the minutes ticked on and no sign, not even the smallest inkling of magic, revealed itself to her. If it was there, she was sure she would feel it, as it was connected to the tree just as she was. It had been a stupid idea anyhow, she thought, pressing her hands into the floor to rise, defeated. Her arms shook, unable to lift the rest of her, and she sighed. She was about to ask for help when Sara dropped down next to her.
“I read in Mariel’s grimoire she brought to Samhain that some books bound or hidden by magic for long periods of time have been said to . . . well, they get bored,” Sara whispered, her face inches from Lily’s.