The Shadows of Dark Root (Daughters of Dark Root Book 5)

by April Aasheim

  “It’s so beautiful,” I said, as the scene slowly dissolved and we found ourselves back in the studio. Once reoriented, we both grinned.

  “I wish we could’ve stayed longer,” I said.

  “No, you don’t. If you did, we would have.”

  “I really hate riddles.” I laughed. “But I love you. Thanks for showing me.”

  “I love you, too, Maggie. Forever.”

  I crawled onto his lap, pushing him backwards. I straddled him, my red curls cascading down across his face. For a breath, I forgot everything. I took off his shirt, and then my own.

  “Maggie…” he whispered.

  “Shhh…” I pressed my bare chest flat against his, just as our palms had been pressed together earlier. I needed to feel every part of him, to confirm that he was real. There were so many things that weren’t real in this world. “I need you, Shane.”

  “Here? Now?”

  “You’re my husband. This might be our only chance.”

  Without a word, Shane traded places with me, expertly rolling me onto my back. His hands ran over my body, from my face to my thighs. His warm lips found my neck, his tongue tracing circles around my ears as he repeatedly whispered, .“I love you, Maggie.”

  “I love you, too, Shane. Forever.”

  I sunk into his embrace, the rhythms of our bodies becoming perfectly harmonic, rising and falling together as we breathed. But when he lifted my skirt, I grabbed his wrist. There was something behind him. Or rather, someone. My body went cold and limp while my mouth went dry. And just as quickly, the vision was gone.

  “What’s wrong?” Shane asked, his eyes searching mine.

  “I just can’t yet,” I said, pushing him back as I scrambled out from under him. “I’m sorry.”

  “Did I do something?”

  “No, I just feel dizzy,” I lied. “I haven’t slept or eaten much. It must have caught up to me.”

  “Let’s get you some food,” he said, lifting me to my feet and handing me my shirt. He hadn’t bought my fib, but he didn’t press. Had he seen the phantom, too?

  The phantom - my father, Armand - peering in through the window, an hourglass hovering above his open hand. “Tick tock,” he mouthed to me, before snapping his fingers and disappearing altogether.

  3

  The High Priestess

  We left the ruins quickly. Shane offered me a granola bar from his pack, saying it would ‘perk me right up,’ and asked no more about my sudden change in mood. I would tell him eventually, but I needed time to think about it privately first.

  The domes must be failing if my father found his way inside Dark Root so easily.

  Unless it was all my imagination?

  It didn’t matter. Armand’s appearance, whether real or imagined, woke me up.

  Tick tock.

  Shane and I made our way to the downtown district of Dark Root. A year ago, the quaint town had been in decline, but we had revived it. Today it bustled with shoppers, children eating ice cream cones, and summer tourists. It was a relief to feel a sense of normalcy, even if only for an hour. I drank in the sunshine and pushed the image of my father from my mind. For now. All the while, I massaged the baby hat in my pocket, nestled near The Star card.

  “Days like this make you believe in miracles,” I said, wondering how anything could be wrong when the air was so crisp and the sun so bright. I clutched Shane’s hand as we made our way up Main Street. “Do you think things will ever be truly good again? Tell me the truth. And please, don’t answer with more cowboy poetry.”

  Shane smiled, pressing my hand to his lips. “I think as long as we act with love and conviction, things will always be okay.”

  “Still corny, but I like it.”

  “I do my best work on short notice.”

  A gray-haired woman grabbed my elbow as we passed her on the sidewalk. “Maggie, are you okay?” She asked.

  “Yes, Fine, Mrs. Newsome,” I said, pulling out of her grasp. “Why?”

  “Well, that’s a relief! You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Your mother isn’t haunting you, is she?” Mrs. Newsome chuckled nervously, looking about as if Miss Sasha were watching us at that very moment. “And how’s the new baby doing? A boy, is it? I just bet he’s the reason you’re looking so tired and green around the gills. It’s tough being a new mother. I remember when my baby Frankie was born…”

  “Sorry, Mrs. Newsome, I have to go,” I said, waving a quick goodbye. I grabbed Shane’s hand and steered him away before we were trapped in one of her famous ‘Baby Frankie’ stories. The man was now forty-eight-years old and coached high school football. But in Mrs. Newsome’s heart, he was still her baby. Did that happen to all mothers? I hoped more than anything to get the chance to find out.

  We proceeded down the street, but it was slow going. I was a semi-celebrity in Dark Root these days, for better or worse. I squared my shoulders and pasted a smile onto my face as we walked, nodding here and there. Shane, bless him, did the talking when we couldn’t extricate ourselves from a particularly chatty local.

  We made our way past the book store, the pie house, and two ice cream carts, the owners shooting accusing glares at one another from their competing spaces. At last, we reached the apex of downtown - Miss Sasha’s Magick Shoppe, located directly across the street from Dip Stix Cafe.

  “Eve has the keys,” I said, leading Shane around to the rear entrance. The back door was unlocked. “Remind me to write myself up for that,” I said, knowing neither Eve nor Merry would have left the shop unsecured.

  We went into the stockroom, skirting the life-sized nude statue of Adam that Michael had ordered. The sculpture brought fresh anger. “Michael can order garbage like this but can’t keep our son safe,” I said. It was an unfair accusation and I knew it, but I didn’t care.

  “Ignore it,” Shane said. “We have other priorities at the moment.”

  We made our way to the front of the store. As always, Eve’s displays were perfect. There were at least a dozen bins of multi-colored candles, and twice as many boxes filled with dried herbs. We had shelves overflowing with oddities - shrunken heads, bat wings, and other novelties. There were clocks that ran backwards and love potions that only worked on werewolves.

  Then there was the meat of the store - a massive collection of anything the modern witch needed to cast spells, read fortunes, or avenge wrongdoing. I strolled through the short aisles, brimming with mood rings, Tarot cards, dragon’s ink, parchment paper, pendulums, and crystals. I stopped at the DIY voodoo doll kit, wondering if I needed an actual lock of Larinda’s hair for it to work.

  “It’s a shame we don’t have the store open right now,” I said. “We could be making a ton of money today.” I sighed heavily, looking around. “I don’t even know what I’m here for,” I admitted, throwing up my hands. “But Jillian said to trust our intuition, and my intuition led me here.”

  Shane pulled a wand from an umbrella stand near the door, one of several, each carved from different wood. “This one smells like cedar. Do you need a new one?” he asked.

  “No. Mine’s back at Harvest Home.”

  I sifted through a bucket of crystals, then poked at a dreamcatcher. Nothing called to me.

  “We should go,” I said. I took a step towards the door, then stopped abruptly as I caught a glimpse of something in my peripheral vision. It was tucked away on one of the lower shelves, partially hidden behind an old recipe book. If the sunlight hadn’t hit it just so, I never would have seen it. It was an hourglass, no larger than the palm of my hand.

  On first look, there was nothing particularly special about it. In fact, it looked cheaply made, like the kind you find in a child’s board game. But when I picked it up, I felt its dense magick. It couldn’t be just coincidence. I had just seen my father holding one.

  I held the hourglass up to the light. There wasn’t much sand inside, only a light dusting on the bottom. I turned it over and read the inscription: Plane-Traveling Timepiece. Don’t Leave
Hope Without It.

  “Okay…” I said, uncertainly. I put it in my skirt pocket alongside the cap and Tarot card. I swore, when I got back from the Netherworld, I was going to invest in a real purse.

  “I think I found what I came for,” I said, looking out the front window. A gangly woman with short, choppy hair hurried by, muttering to herself. It was my sister, Ruth Anne.

  “Hey!” I called, stepping outside and joining her on the sidewalk. “Find anything useful?” I asked, eyeing the khaki backpack dangling from her shoulder.

  “Just got my ghost hunting gear and a few things from my preppers kit,” she said. “Otherwise, I have no idea what to take. Maybe some snacks?” Her eyes trailed to the nearest ice cream cart. I suppressed a laugh. Only Ruth Anne would dare to sneak Ben and Jerry’s into hell.

  “There’s probably nothing that can prepare us for what’s to come,” I said.

  “Right!” She held up a finger. “I’m off to the bookstore to do some research.” Ruth Anne flapped away like a riled-up chicken in combat boots. I felt a swell of love for her, for each of my sisters, who were about to risk everything for me and my child.

  Shane herded me across the street to Dip Stix Cafe. Several people saw him opening the door and asked if he were back in business. “Still fire damage, but we’ll be open soon,” he assured them. “Most likely by fall.” They nodded, but lingered a few minutes, anyway.

  “This town is full of gossips,” I said, too loudly, as we slipped inside. Once the door closed behind us, I asked, “What are you getting in here?”

  “Mainly, one last look.”

  The once-pristine restaurant now reeked of soot and ash. There was a chill to the air, though the air conditioner wasn’t on. I hugged my chest as we wandered through the dining room and into the kitchen.

  “Shane, we’re going to clean this up and get it open as soon as…”

  “Yep,” he agreed. “As soon as…”

  I took his hand and kissed it. Since my return home nearly a year ago, I had gained so much but I – we, had lost so much, as well. The café had been in Shane’s family for decades, passed on to him by his late Uncle Joe, a member of Mother’s original council. Now, it lay in ash and ruin. While I spoke confidently of restoring it to its former glory, I wasn’t sure we could restore anything anymore

  Shane took out his phone and began snapping pictures, catching the room from various viewpoints. “Memories,” he said, putting his phone away.

  “Won’t those make you sad?” I asked, looking around at the mess.

  “They’ll make me determined. This place isn’t just for me anymore. It’s for family. Our family.”

  Our family. He meant me and Montana, and his son, whom I still hadn’t met.

  My lip quivered. I needed to comfort him, and myself. When Mother got into one of her moods when I was a kid, Merry would take it upon herself to boost our morale. No matter what was thrown at us, she’d put her hands on her hips, her blue eyes twinkling with both kindness and determination. Invariably, she’d say something like, Here’s the plan. We just need to stay out of Mama’s way for a few days. I’ll take care of dinners. Maggie, you are in charge of laundry. Mama will calm down. You’ll see. We got this.

  Then, we’d all stick out our hands and Ruth Anne would blow on them like dandelions. We’d wriggle our fingers and stack our fists, one on top of the next. “We got this!” It was our rallying cry, our declaration to the world that the Maddock girls wouldn’t be defeated. I looked at Shane, wanting to share that memory with him but also needing to keep it to myself.

  “We got this,” I said out loud, and that was enough.

  “Yes. We do.” He looked at me from beneath his hat. “We can get through anything together. Now, give me a moment. I’ll be right back.”

  Shane went up the narrow wooden staircase that led to his attic bedroom. I wandered the dormant café, listening to the sounds of Shane above me. Doors and drawers opened and shut. Something large was drug across the floor. And I wasn’t certain, but I thought I heard breaking glass. What was he looking for? A few minutes later he reappeared, carrying a small pack.

  “Good to go?” I said, not asking what he carried inside the pack. We were married now, and I had to learn to trust.

  We left the shop and continued our walk through town, my eyes wandering towards the gray mountain peak in the distance. Larinda’s castle was there, at least in the Netherworld. The mountain didn’t seem so far from here, but how far would it be once we crossed the boundary of the veil? Would it be there at all?

  “Ruth Anne put me in the mood for ice cream,” I said, stopping at the cart in front of the book store. I gave the vendor a five-dollar bill. “We might as well live it up now. I hear calories don’t count in the afterlife.”

  “Too bad,” Shane said, patting his trim middle. “I could actually use a few.”

  We ordered a double scoop of rocky road and shared it. I savored the taste of the chocolate melting on my tongue and the feel of the creme rolling down my throat. It was now quite warm and we had to quickly lick the sides of the cone before it dripped. A woman passed by with the same double scoop and we exchanged guilty smiles.

  How had I taken ice cream for granted for so long? It was one of the many, many marvelous things in the world. There were so many things I hadn’t properly given their due - so many small joys I had forgotten to notice as I got busy with my life. I vowed that when I returned, I would never take ice cream for granted again.

  We strolled Main Street slowly, taking it all in. It was as if we were seeing each shop, bench, and streetlight for the first time - or perhaps the last. This was our collective history, the town we grew up in, the place many of our memories resided. Where did memories go when there was no one around to remember them?

  We ended our walk at the bench in the town square. Shane accidentally dropped the last of our ice cream as he sat down.

  “That’s a shame,” I teased. “Now, you’ll have to do something to make it up to me.” I scooted close, so that our legs were touching.

  “Yeah?” he asked, twisting a lock of my long hair around his finger. “Like what?”

  “Hmm…let me think about it.”

  He licked his lips. “I, uh, may have a few ideas.”

  “Just a few?”

  “A handful? A couple handfuls? No more than a few dozen, tops.”

  “I’m glad to hear that I haven’t scared you off, after my freakout at the ruins earlier.”

  “You’ll never scare me off, Maggie.”

  “Then I do have an idea of my own,” I said, fluttering my lashes.

  “Yes?”

  “Well, I suppose you could escort me into the Netherworld. That might just do it.”

  The side of Shane’s mouth curled up. “Bah! That’s no way to properly punish a man for dropping an ice cream cone.”

  “Get me out of the Netherworld, then I’ll punish you properly.”

  “You got yourself a deal.”

  “Ouch!” I felt a sharp jab into my shoulder. I looked around to see Eve standing behind us, her arms crossed and her lips puckered. Merry was beside her.

  “Honestly,” Eve said. “How you two can be making kissy faces right now is beyond me.”

  “What should I be doing?” I asked. “Jillian said to take the day to prepare. Do you have any idea how to prepare for this? Because I’m clueless.”

  Eve circled the bench, so that she stood directly in front of us. “All I know is that Merry and I are busting our asses trying to figure out what to do, and you guys are here playing newlyweds!”

  “I am a newlywed,” I reminded her.

  “And I’m about to risk my biscuit for you. I would think you’d be doing something…something more useful.”

  “Eve, please calm down,” I said, standing.

  “Calm down! I just want to remind you that it’s your kid we’re looking for.” She waved her hands in exasperation. “If you aren’t taking this seriously, why should
we?”

  I reached for Eve’s hand but she stepped back, her eyes clearly saying ‘don’t touch me.’ I looked to Merry , but she only shrugged

  “Are you okay, Evie?” I asked.

  “Evie?” She raised an eyebrow and laughed, rightfully suspicious. We only called her Evie when we wanted her to be agreeable. “I don’t know if I’m all right. Are you all right?”

  She jiggled the Crown Royal pouch she wore over her shoulder. “We spent the entire day trying to prepare for the unpreparable. So far, I have something called pixie dust that I found in one of Mom’s old shoe boxes, which I suspect is actually some 1970s ground-up amphetamine. And for whatever reason, I grabbed a few moon rocks from the store. My intuition is telling me nothing. That’s how okay I am.”

  “Eve, tell me what’s really going on. It has to be more than moon rocks and pixie dust.”

  “I…I don’t want to go,” she said, adamantly shaking her head. “I’ve dreamt of it, Maggie. It’s dark…”

  She sucked in a breath and fanned her eyes before continuing. “But we can’t leave Montana in there. And I’m not letting you go without me. I’m just freaked out… freaked the fuck out. How are we going to face whatever is in there? That’s the world where nightmares are born! And that’s not even counting Larinda, who probably has Superman powers on that side of the veil.”

  My younger sister clenched her fists and squinted her eyes, as if she were four-years-old again and had missed her nap. I grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at me. She fought against me but I held firm. Then her body shuddered, and finally slumped. I caught her.

  “Eve, stay focused,” I said, stroking her hair. “It’s going to be all right. I promise you.”

  “Your demon-loving father is in there, right? I’m just afraid this whole thing is going to end badly.”

  I lifted her chin and stared into her dark pupils. She didn’t often let people see her true depth, but it was there, just beneath the lipstick and henna tattoos.