The pond began to ripple, little waves slapping against the muddy bank. Dom jumped, glancing behind him. For a moment, I almost snapped at him to keep still, but with the kind of energy Gwen was putting out, I don’t think we were about to throw anything off.
“This isn’t the full ritual,” Jasika whispered.
“Ssh!” Dom hissed. “I’m listening!”
“Bryn?” Gwen pressed.
I licked my lips and tried to remember how this was supposed to go. That was the thing about human magic. It was so based on willpower and belief that the most certain way to get it done was by following the same rituals over and over until you trusted in them like you trusted the sun to feel warm. If I didn’t trust I’d remembered it right, there was a chance it might not work. Okay. Gwen had summoned the west. So I needed to go counterclockwise. Probably.
“Hail to the fire of the south. Feel our love and our rage. Help us to break the curse I sort of might have unleashed on the town. Be with us now to strengthen our wills.”
The burn of spice tickled my nose. I could swear a bead of sweat ran down my neck. Hard to tell magic from psychology sometimes.
“Dom?” Gwen pressed. “Air is the element of knowledge and clarity.”
Dom positively quivered with excitement. “Okay. Um. Hail to the air of the east. Show us knowledge and clarity. And be with us while we … do that.”
A tinkling of bells danced on the wind as an unexpected breeze tickled my cheek. I cracked my eyes open, then shut them before someone could catch me.
“Jasika?”
And of course, Jasika tackled it like a pro. “Hail to the earth of the north. Guide us through the darkness that has fallen on this place. Grant us the strength to resist it. Be with us as we seek stillness and wisdom.”
The soil itself seemed to thrum under us as we followed, building up to a steady rumble in my chest stronger than anything else. Jasika gasped. Her hands trembled against mine. The whole of nature seemed to be awake and intent on her. And we hadn’t actually started the spell yet.
I might have to rethink the balance here. Dom and I were campfires. Gwen was a power plant. Jasika was somewhere in between. How could she stand to walk around with all of that humming inside of her?
Gwen took a deep breath. “Repeat after me, now, but do not repeat after me unless you understand what I’m saying. Is that clear?”
We shared wary glances. Dom was the first to nod.
Gwen took a deep breath and began to mutter something, probably to make sure we didn’t try to clumsily mimic whatever she was saying. But, here and there, her voice rose in an English phrase for us to parrot.
“Watch over this town and expel ill will against it.”
“Guide us in strength, push us in love.”
And something I didn’t entirely catch, but it was either “Peace to all life” or “Bees for all time,” so … I was pretty sure which one I was supposed to say.
The trees creaked behind us and the water churned in the pond. Gwen’s power washed over us like a tidal wave until all we could do was hold on. Sweat beaded on my forehead. I tightened my grip, waiting for it to end as Gwen’s muttering carried on. Then, with a squeeze of her hands, it stopped. The power receded and I caught a breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding.
Gwen sighed.
“Water of the west. We thank you.”
My turn. “Fire of the south. We thank you.”
Then Dom and Jasika, like we’d done this a thousand times already.
“Air of the east, we thank you.”
“Earth of the north, we thank you.”
Gwen gave a satisfied little nod and let go of our hands. Dom looked like he’d been punched, but judging by that dazed little grin, I didn’t think he minded it. Gwen stood, primly brushing the bits of grass from her shift dress.
“Please attempt nothing from this book without me,” she instructed.
“Of course,” Jasika said, smiling a little too widely. I tried to catch her eye, but Jasika didn’t quite meet it. It seemed I wasn’t the only one willing to ignore Gwen’s advice.
I wobbled to my feet and returned Mum’s book to the safety of my backpack. “Thank you, Gwen. I promise we’ll keep you in the loop for anything else we do. We’d really appreciate your help if we hit a wall.”
Gwen pulled a face.
“Please understand me,” she said gravely. “I wish to help you. But if my sisters are threatened, we must retreat from this place. We cannot risk provoking the Unseelie court.”
“We don’t want to provoke anyone,” Jasika said. “We’re just going to look after our town.”
Gwen nodded and dipped into a little curtsy. “Until I see you all again.”
It was awfully formal. Dom and Jasika bobbed in little bows before they turned to head back into the trees. I started to follow, but Gwen caught my wrist. Of course there would be something we couldn’t discuss with the others around.
“I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” I called.
When Dom and Jasika disappeared into the trees, Gwen took my face in both her hands, pressing a cool little kiss to my forehead. My heart fluttered. I had to make myself take a step away.
“What was that for?”
“Something else is troubling you,” Gwen stated.
“Something’s always troubling me.”
“Tell me.”
I sighed and glanced over my shoulder. Dom and Jasika were long gone.
“I’ve been having dreams about my mum.” I swallowed. “But there’s someone else there. Dark hair. Gray dress.” I paused, grasping at ragged edges of the dream. It had felt so vivid when I’d dreamt it, but now it already felt vague and far away. “There was a banner. It was red and it had a gold dragon on it.”
Gwen pursed her lips. “Have you dreamt of this person many times?”
“Just a few. I only saw her once. Along with other people. Memories.” I pushed back against the image of the bleeding prince before he could fully form in my mind. “But I never saw her or the gold dragon. Do you know what it is?”
“It belongs to a family line that ended over a millennium ago.” Gwen shook her head. “They had a powerful witch among them, and she was known for deals with the darkness.”
Something in my gut wriggled. It almost felt like hope.
“But if she was a really old and powerful witch then maybe she’s the one who made the deal with the Unseelie. Not my mum.” I wanted to believe that, anyway.
Gwen gave me a sad look. “Pray it isn’t so. She was powerful as she was cunning. If her reaching out to you is tied to the Unseelie, I would recommend not trusting her. Do not speak to her. She was only ever loyal to herself and her ends. We have greater matters with which to concern ourselves.”
For the time being, I didn’t think I’d have any problem following her advice.
Fifteen
The Fae weren’t going to back down any time soon. It was time for everyone to prepare. Of course, that would mean asking a priest to break a promise and resume my lessons. I needed to ask as casually as possible. Perhaps a passing question on the way back from the kitchen with a plate of the seemingly never-ending supply of casseroles that had packed the church fridge since we’d moved in. But as I passed by his office, the door was shut. A voice echoed from inside.
“… digging around in my garden. Pest control says it’s moles, but I know it’s not, Father. They’re doing things. Causing mayhem. Scaring my dogs.”
“You were right to come, Herb. I’ll be by to look later tonight. I’m sure this will have a simple solution.”
The door opened and Mr. Herbert filled the doorway, his sweat-stained baseball cap folded in his hands. He froze when he saw me, lips twitching like he had to come up with something good to say. Great. Even the adults couldn’t swallow their pity.
“I’m … glad to see you got the casserole. Gladys was very determined.”
I glanced down at the warm plate. Was this one from Ms. Gla
dys? Hard to keep track of all of them.
“Um … yeah. I mean, yes, sir.”
He nodded and shuffled past, replaced in a second by a haggard-looking Father Gooding. He’d deny it, but it was clear what sort of strain we put him under. Us living in the church was a perpetual reminder that things were no longer under his control in this town.
I took a tasteless bite of casserole. “Sounds like Mr. Herbert’s got gnomes.”
Gooding nodded. “It does. I’ll be out this evening tending to it.”
I frowned. “Okay. I’ll go with you and we can talk about—”
“Not after your father forbade it.”
“He’s working late,” I pointed out. “He’s always working late.” Because apparently the oil industry didn’t much care if your house burned down.
Gooding took a deep breath and folded his arms behind his back. “All the more reason for you to look after your brothers.”
“Gooding—”
“Bryn,” he interrupted. “If one of the courts attacked your home to flush you out, do you really think it’s wise to intentionally place yourself in their path?”
My protests dried up in my throat. Gooding wasn’t going to take me with him. He really just wanted me to sit back and do absolutely nothing. He wanted me to let go of my own fate, just like that.
“You can’t be serious,” I croaked. Then, with what remained of my endurance, I repeated, “You can’t be serious!”
Gooding scrubbed a hand over his face and straightened. “Was there something else I could help you with?”
This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t right. After years of working by his side, he was just willing to dump me the second things looked sticky. I blinked and shook my head, shoving more casserole into my mouth as I tromped down the hall, skin itching with irritation. Fine. I could do this myself.
I finished my plate and prepared a couple more. At least if I took the food to the boys, I could ensure they actually got a few vegetables. And it was something to do as long as I was going to be stuck here. Maybe I ought to text Jasika and Dom about the gnomes on Postoak, just in case. I wasn’t sure what they could do, but I got the feeling they’d appreciate knowing that something was happening.
I went to Jake’s room first, but the door was wide-open with no Jake in it. Not that I had to go looking.
“We’re supposed to be in this together. You’re full of shit if you think you can just cut me out!”
The door to Ash’s room flew open and Jake stormed out, looking positively murderous. He stormed past me and into his room, slamming the door shut behind him. A second later, it creaked open and he reached out, grabbing one of the plates of casserole from my hand before shutting it again. Less noisily this time.
“What crawled up your butt?” I demanded. No answer. Apparently, Ash still wasn’t talking to Jake any more than the rest of us.
Screw it. I set Ash’s dinner on the ground in front of his room, rapped once against the door, and almost stomped off to my room. But something niggling inside me stopped me just before I reached the door. I was having a crappy day. They were, too.
Groaning inwardly, I went to Jake’s room and knocked. When he didn’t snarl at me to go away, I tried opening the door. To my surprise, it actually swung inward.
Jake slumped on his bed, glaring down at his feet. He’d already made himself at home, scattering clothes everywhere. It smelled better, though, with only one boy’s dirty socks. Each of the twins had his own room. His own mess. For the first time, Jake had his own space. Poor Jake.
“Sounds like you two are having problems, Moonman,” I said as gently as I could.
Jake huffed. “Yeah.”
“Wanna tell me what’s going on?”
His lower jaw jutted out for a second. His fingers tightened on the mattress. Whatever inward battle he had going on, it was a real rager.
“Ash came back with bruises.”
“What?” I jerked back and almost stormed over to Ash’s room.
“No point. He won’t even let me see it.” The ultimate insult for twins as close as they were.
“Do you have any idea what happened?”
“Doing stupid stuff, I guess,” Jake muttered. “I don’t even know what he’s been up to since the … the fire.” His voice broke at the end. I had the decency to look away when his eyes started to go red. This was rough on all of us. I wasn’t about to rob the kid of his dignity.
“You know you can always talk to me if things get to be too much. Right?”
A strange, alien silence settled between us. I waited for him to call me Miss Priss. Tell me to get out of his hair and give him some space. But all I got was the rustle of fabric. After a few seconds, I glanced back to find Jake buried under his blanket, his wet eyes fixed on the wall.
I swallowed and retreated back into the hall, tugging the door closed behind me.
* * *
DINNER EATEN, homework finished, shower done, and no apprenticeship to tend to, I sat on my bed, bouncing my leg up and down. For once, there was actually nothing to do. If I was home, I might surf the internet, read, or knit and watch TV … but none of those were options here. I could have checked on the boys again, maybe asked if they wanted to watch one of the DVDs in the media room, but the thought of having to coach them through whatever tiff they were having sucked all the energy out of me. They could deal with it on their own.
I slumped back on my bed, staring up at the dull, white ceiling, my brain looping around in circles. Dom was either out nursing his social life or hanging out with Helen watching Jeopardy! reruns or, bless him, trying to research magic. Jasika was probably getting in her community service tutoring somebody. They still had their things to do when they weren’t working with me. What did I have?
I had a shadeling and I had a book.
The thought sent an electric shock buzzing through me. Mum’s book. Somewhere in there had to be the spells she wanted me to use. Playing it safe and doing things Gwen’s way hadn’t gone anywhere. I wanted a way to ward off the Unseelies, and I had what might just equate to an H-bomb stashed under my bed.
Lord, it felt like the epitome of teenage rebellion. This was Fae magic. It wasn’t for humans, certainly not without Gwen’s guidance. Hell, other Fae were scared of it. But Mum hadn’t been. I was her daughter.
Just thinking about it made my gut squirm. Mum had used something that scared Gwen. Mum had dabbled in some dangerous stuff, and maybe that had put the rest of us in danger. Maybe everything that had happened was Mum’s mistake and not mine. So the question was: Who should I follow in a moment like this? Mum or Gwen?
I crept out of bed and clicked the lock on the door, heart in my throat. When a few seconds passed and neither of the boys came knocking, I pulled the old book out from under the bed. Here went nothing. I started flipping through the pages. Maybe half were in English or Welsh, and even then, more than a few of the English pages used Old English words like “Ebba” and “Monajjfyllen.” The shadeling helped where it could, translating the Welsh that I couldn’t remember, but even it couldn’t translate much. Not that it needed to. I was just looking. I wasn’t foolish enough to pretend it wasn’t a risk. This was where everything had gone wrong … but I knew that. I could be more cautious.
“Do you know what any of this means?” I asked.
“Not for me to know, Missy,” it explained, swinging its legs hard enough that it bounced on the mattress next to me. “It’s an old dialect. Not one we shadelings speak.”
“Right.” I grabbed my half-used book of math notes and started scribbling what looked useful. Spells I could understand, patterns, theories on some of the other stuff that didn’t make any sense to me. And the more I read, the more I was drawn to the same three pages, their titles sticking out to me like bright neon lights: Gwella, Gwybodaeth, Freuddwyth.
I shifted, resting my elbows on my knees. Dreaming. That couldn’t be so bad. That one was just something that would take me back to the dreams with Mu
m, right? Maybe, if I could control it, I could ask her more.
“Hey.” I gestured to the shadeling. “I want to try out this one. Can you help me?”
The shadeling shifted, tugging anxiously on its large, batty ear. “Are you sure, Missy?”
I nodded. “Just this one. I want to try it out.”
“These are dangerous,” it squeaked.
“Just this once.” I clutched the book tighter. “What if it shows me exactly what I need to repel them? Or the name of the monarch we’re up against? We need information. This could help everyone.”
The shadeling stared at me for a few long seconds before nodding and scampering forward. “You gotta read it straight from the book, Missy. Won’t work if you read it off anything else. It’s not for humans.”
“Why not? A spell’s a spell.”
The shadeling shook its head. “Not like this. This is our magic, Missy. It’s not human. It’s not just the words, it’s the paper and the ink and the hand that wrote it. Your brains don’t work like ours.”
Right. I thumbed to the page I was looking for. Gwybodaeth.
“So do I need anything special?”
“No, Missy. Just the words.”
I took a deep breath and ran my fingers along the page, sounding out the unfamiliar Welsh words, starting over every time I stumbled and the shadeling corrected me. The weird part was every time I started, it was like I was reading the words for the first time all over again. None of them stuck in my head, no matter how many times I’d read them. On the third try, my heart began to flutter like a bird in a cage. On the fifth, my hand started shaking. This was insane. This wasn’t just lighting a candle or writing out some old Welsh ogham letters. I was actually practicing fairy magic.
An odd feeling of calm washed over me. Maybe it was all in my head, but I swear I could almost feel something shifting in the back of my mind, shimmering like a mirage in the heat.
“Missy, you have to say what you want to dream and learn about now,” the shadeling advised, but its squeaky voice sounded like a muffled call from the other side of a very thick wall.
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