I wondered if Seth was still angry with me. Or if I’d ever see him again. Had he left Random to roam free, or had something else separated them?
Speaking of Seth—was that him at the coffee kiosk in the parking lot? No, it was a different guy. Good-looking, though, and talking to… Oh, it was Birdie. They both had coffee cups and were laughing about something. The day was sunny, the air smelled like clean, damp forest, no hint of smoke. The cars along Main Street were flowing inward, toward home—and without magic to control them, they were moving inefficiently, natural and human.
Birdie’s laugh floated across the parking lot, and I smiled to hear it. She’d been through a lot this year. Just in the past twenty-four hours, she’d been interrogated by a series of suspicious, amulet-waving mages and managers at the Protectorate—but she looked great. Happy.
I was feeling cheerful too. Maybe life would finally settle down for both of us for a while. She could open her bookstore, use her inheritance to keep it afloat in the absence of actual profits, develop that well of magic she’d discovered inside herself, and maybe date that guy she was flirting with. As I drew closer, I recognized him from Cypress. The garden center. I liked men who appreciated plants. It was rare in the witch world.
“Hi,” I said, walking up to them with Random dragging behind me on the leash. He seemed to want to go to the Jeep, which was in the other direction. Eager to get home like I was. “Caffeine. Good idea.”
Birdie smiled at me. “Hi.”
The guy saluted me with his coffee. “Hi.” He was movie-star handsome, dark and tall with a body that must’ve been made in the gym. Lifting perennials wouldn’t do all that.
I looked behind me at Random, who continued to hang back, his posture rigid, his nose aimed homeward. “I was going to buy a banana muffin, but I think Random wants to get home.”
Birdie gestured at the guy. “Jack works at Cypress.” Her tone was warm and friendly, but something made me think she wasn’t that into him. Usually Birdie couldn’t stop talking around a good-looking guy. Actually, she couldn’t stop talking around anyone.
I stopped thinking about my banana muffin and looked at her. Had the Protectorate left some kind of antianxiety spell on her, something to loosen her up? Because even if she wasn’t interested in Jack for herself, she’d at least be nervous for my sake, chatting nonstop to make a connection between us.
Trust no one.
I turned a more critical eye on Jack. The Protectorate had agents all over town—surely another demon hadn’t slipped in and possessed another Cypress employee? A quick probe of him didn’t show anything sinister like I’d felt with Samantha last week.
Trust no one.
Random tugged at the leash. Samantha had found him running loose.
But that would mean…
For the first time in weeks, I turned my magic senses on Birdie, my friend. My best friend.
“You look so tired.” She reached out and squeezed my arm. “I think you should go home. Get in bed. Sleep.”
I didn’t detect anything dangerous in her; in fact, she felt as warm and loving as ever, even more so. Her concern was sincere. She did feel older and more settled, as if the traumas we’d been through had made her stronger. Wiser. But something nagged at me.
“Let’s go for a walk along the river,” I said. “You up for that? Random seems restless, and I won’t be going out again for a while.”
“Sure, I love to walk.” She waved at Jack, who hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her. “See you around.”
“Bye, Birdie,” he said, then laughed. “Bye-bye, Birdie. Right. See you. I hope.”
I stared at him for another second—had Birdie made him nervous?—and then followed Birdie to the path behind Cypress.
My heart began to beat faster. It was a heavily wooded trail that led up and down the bank above the beach. In the winter, after weeks of rain, the river would rise dangerously high, flooding lower-altitude businesses and closing streets with slow-moving currents, potholes, and floating debris.
But we hadn’t had a big winter storm yet, and the path was still dry, lined with fairy houses and tufts of yellow grasses that Random usually enjoyed sniffing, but today…
Today he was ignoring them completely. He trotted at my heels, tripping me every few feet as his body got between my legs on the narrow path. I barely missed stepping on a fairy house made of fennel stalks and poison oak leaves, which would’ve been bad for both of us, when I realized the tiny houses were empty. It was a sunny day in December, and the rains were about to come and bring the glory that was the wellspring—fairies from all over the west coast should’ve been gathering in growing numbers along the river.
But it was deserted. Squirrels and birds scampered among the brush, but the fae were missing. There was no river fairy. No dryads or flower fairies. I remembered the confrontation with Flor at the winery when all of them had suddenly fled.
My heart began pounding harder. I looked up into the trees, really focusing now, searching for the tiny fae that were so numerous and semitransparent, like gnats or dust motes, that even I forgot they were there.
There. Up ahead in the trees—a flash, a sparkling cloud, flying away. Retreating.
I stopped walking, my breath caught in my chest. Which of my companions was it—Random or Birdie? Or was it someone else nearby, such as Jake or Samantha?
One of them was possessed, and I’d been too trusting to see it.
Just that morning on the Golden Gate Bridge, I’d watched the fairies fly away from us as the car approached. Thinking like a human being, I’d taken their flight for granted—birds, if they were fast enough, fled from cars to survive.
But fairies didn’t have to unless there was a supernatural threat.
It had to be Birdie. She was a single step ahead of me, seeming to be as happy as I’d ever seen her, Bright and alive, inhaling the fresh air, laughing at the head-bobbing quail that ran across the path in front of us.
The demon was not the one who had possessed Samantha, because that one had been so sour, Shadowed, and angry, I’d felt him instantly. This one was pleasant, even kind. She was glad to be alive. Her affection for me was real, as if she’d known me—
I stopped walking. Random was only too glad to let Birdie—whoever she was—continue on without us.
Did I have enough power to confront her? I did have my beads around my neck, but when the Protectorate had confiscated them, they’d cast investigation spells over them that had diluted their power. I’d have to make new strands from fresh wood, but for right now I’d have to rely on the emergency bracelets I’d had in the Jeep, a pair I’d put on before visiting the genie.
I unhooked Random’s leash. He’d be safer somewhere else. Maybe he’d run back to Cypress, and Samantha could take care of him again. Random was the best dog, but he wasn’t a warrior. It was my job to rescue him, not the other way around.
I tapped Random’s tail with my foot, encouraging him to leave; he immediately ran back the way we’d come.
This demon had known me before. That’s why I hadn’t noticed her invasion into Birdie’s body. Although I’d only met her on two occasions, they had been unforgettable moments for me. For her as well, given she’d been killed at the last one, which even for demons had to be a memorable event.
“Vera,” I said.
Birdie’s body kept walking, but a twitch in her shoulders told me she’d heard what I’d said.
“Vera,” I said more loudly. I was angry now, thinking of poor Birdie trapped inside her own mind while another being controlled her body.
How could I have missed the signs? I knew better than any witch how possessing spirits weren’t always as sinister as was assumed. This one was charming and kind, and had managed to convince my cynical father it was time to get married. And even after seeing her as a charred demon corpse on their wedding day, he’d been hoping to see her again and give it another try.
Vera, it seemed, had liked the idea as well,
because she was sticking around. Sooner or later she’d get back to my father and start over again. Ugh. The thought of Birdie’s body with my father made my stomach turn.
My connection to Birdie must’ve made her vulnerable to Vera’s spirit after she’d been pushed out of her previous body at the wedding. As Vera had died, she’d reached out to me and held my hand. Unbeknownst to me, I’d had a spiritual hitchhiker for a while.
That was why I must’ve been so sick after the wedding. The genie had exorcised her when I’d wished for good health. But then she’d found Birdie, who’d helped me recover from the wedding. No good deed went unpunished. Knowing me was dangerous.
How long had it taken Vera to move into Birdie? After she’d put the necklace in the Cypress employee lounge, after she’d been in my house…
Right. The trip to the beach. She’d brought Random back—too clean, I realized now—and hadn’t come inside. She’d never come inside my house after that.
“Talk to me,” I said, this time putting a magic command in my voice. The bracelets had a silver chain beneath the beads and would have more impact on her than wood alone.
Birdie’s figure stopped and turned around. She was still smiling in a warm, affectionate way at me.
“Alma,” she said, holding out her hands.
I crossed my wrists over each other. “Get out of Birdie right now.”
Frown. “But it’s perfect. She loves you.”
“And I love her,” I said. “I can’t let you take her body.”
“You’ll understand once I explain,” she said. “Alma. There’s so much I want to tell you.”
I braced my feet on the ground and gathered my power into my chest, expecting her to attack me any moment. She was still smiling, but her impressive social skills had kept her true spirit hidden from my father and from me for a very long time. I couldn’t underestimate her. My training had prepared me for a cornered demon to immediately strike to kill.
“Leave Birdie’s body,” I said. “There’s no time to talk more.”
Her face brightened. “That’s just it! We didn’t have time, but we do now. After twenty-six years, we finally have time.” She reached her arms out. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”
Chapter Forty
A deep, dark pit opened up inside my belly. I stared at the mouth, Birdie’s mouth, making words that weren’t hers.
Twenty… six…
I was going to be sick.
“All I want is to love and protect you. That’s all I ever wanted. But the body that gave me you wasn’t strong enough to survive your birth.” She shook her head, her expression sad. “I knew the risks, but I thought she was young enough to make it. When it perished—”
My voice sliced through the air like a silver knife aimed at a demon’s heart. “It?”
“The body,” she said, tilting her head as if confused by my sharp tone. “When it—”
“She,” I said, breathing heavily. “She. She died. Not you.”
“It was like a death. I lost you, my baby. My daughter.”
Seeing Birdie’s lips form the words that I’d ached to hear my entire life was too much. I cast three sharp spells around myself to block out the sight and sound of the monster in front of me for a moment.
This demon had been inside the body of my mother when I was born. She’d returned to marry my father, and claimed to love me.
I couldn’t breathe. It was too much. I needed to get away.
No, no, I had to stay. She was killing my best friend. It didn’t matter if Birdie’s body survived another ninety years—the spirit that made her Birdie couldn’t survive much more of this. It might already be too late.
But my mother. She was my mother. What was she? How many lives had she known? Had she sprung into existence a century ago, or a millennium?
What was her name?
What was I?
There wasn’t time. She would lie anyway; tell me just what I wanted to hear.
I broke apart the bubble I’d locked myself in and struck without hesitating. “Get out of her,” I said, turning all my anger into the spell.
She flicked it away with a small wave. “I didn’t choose your friend’s body at first. I really didn’t want to do that. The first one was a horrible person who hurt children—I didn’t enjoy taking her shape, but it was necessary, and did do some good, even if the witch killer ruined it so quickly. Your father found her appealing, which was necessary.” She held up two hands, fingers spread, and I felt something lock up inside me. “With your help, I was able to escape before the silver weakened me too badly. After your birth, it was fifteen years before I could roam the earth again. This time I only needed a few days.”
I tried to make my mouth form words—to tell her I’d hate her for this, she had to free Birdie, I’d never forgive her—but I couldn’t move.
“You brought me to Silverpool, which is such a nice place,” she continued. “A wellspring, so many fairies, the beach just down the road. And I found your best friend. A lovely girl. So sweet. Both of us want the best for you, so it was easy to settle in.”
Settle? I screamed inwardly.
“You must have so many questions,” she said. “Your dad didn’t remember much about our first time together—I’d had to tweak his brain a little bit, but men like that don’t fight too hard to forget their own pain. What did he tell you about me? There must’ve been something. Was it my laugh? My singing? No matter what body I share, I find a way to bring the miracle of music into it.”
She was asking me questions, but I couldn’t answer. She’d frozen me. If I stopped struggling, maybe she’d think she’d won, and her ego would insist she give me a chance to talk about her.
I turned my mind inward and found a center of calm so I could let go of the compulsion to resist. I wondered if Birdie was having to do the same thing. Cold anger gave me strength. I would free her. I would.
Vera—I couldn’t call her Birdie—watched me approvingly. “Oh good. You’re starting to relax. I can’t wait until we can really get to know each other.”
Not going to happen. My anger was now a glacier of calm inside me, clarifying my energy into a single beam of power, stronger than any Protectorate silver dagger.
My relaxation had deceived her. Smiling, she brushed her—Birdie’s—hair out of her eyes and looked up at the sky. “There’s still a little sun today. Maybe we could grab some takeout at the deli and have a picnic.” She made a very human, self-deprecating face. “It’s still hard for me to be inside Birdie’s apartment. I’ve been sleeping downstairs in the office. Eventually her spells will wear off—”
As I’d hoped, she’d loosened her hold on me as she’d talked, and now I took the opportunity to strike her between the eyes with a ray of energy.
Her eyes popped open. “Oh,” she gasped.
I sliced through her hold on me and erected a stronger barrier. “Leave Birdie’s body,” I said. “Now.”
Her brow furrowed. “But I don’t want to.”
“You have to,” I said, regaining my muscle control. I curled my toes inside my shoes, remembering to stretch my wards to my feet, and crossed my hands to hold the beads on each wrist. “I won’t give you what you want. I won’t be your daughter.”
I felt her spirit touch me again, but this time I struck fast enough.
Her head snapped back. “Oh,” she said again.
I struck again; she stumbled backward. Then she took two more steps away from me on the path.
Keeping my feet planted where they were, unwilling to risk physical contact by following her, I tried to remember how I’d felt when I’d exorcised the demon from Samantha. A sweeping, gathering, lifting, and dumping. As if I were cleaning the kitchen floor with a broom and dustpan. Lots of bits and pieces of her were all over the place—inside Birdie’s skin, floating around her head, in the air between us, seeping into the soil—and I had to find it and bring it into a manageable density.
She was a spirit;
physical form was unnatural for her. Her primary instinct was to scatter, float, disperse, and so to push her out of Birdie, I could leverage the innate tendencies of her kind. It wasn’t normal for her to take Birdie’s body. Forces bigger, older, and more powerful than mine wanted her to get out.
“But I know you want to know me,” she whispered. “It’s here. I can feel it.” She touched Birdie’s chest, but my own heart squeezed.
And then memories washed over me. School gatherings, holidays, mealtimes, breakups, celebrations—all alone, or with Malcolm, wondering who she was. Who I was.
The pressure in my heart became more intense, interfering with my breathing. My ribs creaked. Love as pure as anything I’d ever felt before surged into my body. It was too much, too strong, a tsunami of emotion that made my knees buckle. I heard myself cry out. As I fell to the ground, I reached out to break my fall, severing my connection to my beads, and forgot what I was fighting for. Didn’t I want to just let go and enjoy the wave? Drown in this love I’d wanted my entire life?
I rolled onto my back, feeling a sharp rock under my shoulder blade but not caring about the pain. The blue sky was vast and Bright. Really, there wasn’t anything to worry about. All troubles were temporary. Life was so short. The eternal experience for all beings was spirit, energy, and love. It didn’t matter if little ones suffered, even died.
Idly I noticed the sky was only half-blue. Dark clouds were pushing in from the northwest. It was getting colder, too, and I smelled moisture in the air. Rain was coming. The fairies loved this time of year, coming from as far as Alaska or Baja to celebrate in Silverpool. Dryads in brown dresses. Goblins in red or green. Flower fae in bright colors or naked, shimmering and semitransparent. Ancient enemies would stop fighting for the solstice until the earth turned again and again, weeks passed, the wellspring dried up, and they fought or fled again.
“Go,” I told the spirit inside me—because Vera had left Birdie, as I’d insisted, but had then taken up residence inside myself. The loneliness I’d tasted every day of my life was gone, and I’d never forget the pure wholeness I was feeling now. But the price would be my life, and I wanted to live. “You gave me life. Don’t take it away.”
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