Things She's Seen

by Pat Esden

  Em staggered back. It was identical to the dagger he’d used to destroy Devlin’s energy ball—and the one the wraith had used to kill Rhianna.

  He leered, tossing the dagger from hand to hand. “One last chance. Give me the book.”

  Memories of Rhianna’s blood spraying the room, of her head landing on the gelatinous mound of her body parts, flashed before Em’s eyes. So many times she’d been ready to die: that day in the hot van, when she saw Alice dead on the floor…. But now she wanted to live. Not just today, but the next day, and the one after that.

  Still, protecting the book was beyond important.

  She squared her shoulders and snarled at Dux. “You want it? Come and get it.”

  Dux grinned like a jackal. “If you insist.”

  The pound of fists against wood sounded, followed by Gar’s voice coming through the door behind her “Em! Are you in there?”

  “Hurry!” she shouted. “Dux is with me.”

  Dux scowled at the door. “Pound all you want. You’ll never get through in time.”

  He turned back to Em, sliced a look at the dagger in his hand—then hurled it at her blindingly fast. She flung the book up, shielding her body. The dagger thwacked into it. Black sparks erupted from the impact point, a geyser of magic exploding outward. The force of the blast sent the dagger flying from the book’s cover and everything else in the room spinning. The chandelier smashed against the ceiling. Magazines circled into the air. Em tumbled sideways into the side of an upholstered chair—and the book soared from her hands.

  “Come to me!” Dux commanded. He flicked his fingers, sending a wave of magic toward the book.

  Em threw herself into the magic’s path before it could reach its target. The magic speared her in the spine, a thousand needles stabbing all at once. She screamed as the pain jumped from synapse to synapse and rattled into her bones. Tears of anguish flooded from her eyes, but she refused to let the pain immobilize her. She grabbed the book, opened it, and sprung to her feet.

  Page three, that’s what Merlin had said. She looked down. There was a pen and ink illustration of three women, each holding a corner of a gold triangle. Below it was a short spell written in Archaic Welsh. She couldn’t begin to understand what it meant. But maybe sounding out the words would work.

  “How did you open that?” Dux snapped. “The key isn’t complete.”

  Em’s breath seized in her throat. She looked at him, totally shocked. He was right.

  He flexed his fingers and an energy ball appeared in his hands, growing stronger as he kneaded more magic into it. “Give the book to me and I’ll let you live.”

  She straightened her spine and glanced back down at the open book resting in her hands. The power of three. Maiden. Mother. Crone. Saille. Athena. And her.

  The living and the dead, Saille’s voice whispered the same words Em had intuitively sensed that night in the back of police car.

  Sudden understanding dawned on her. The two diamonds sat in the corners, imbued with power from witches who were no longer living. The crone and the mother. The third corner was the seat for the maiden’s magic, for her magic. The book had opened because she’d touched that corner, whether she’d realized it or not.

  Em steadied her voice, driving all emotion from her tone as she looked back at Dux. “If I give the book to you, what guarantee do I have that you won’t kill me?” If she could activate the triangle again, maybe she’d be able to read the spell. If she couldn’t use the spell, then why would Merlin have been so adamant about her knowing the page number?

  Dux tilted his head, amber eyes glistening as they bored into her. A wicked smile crossed his lips and Em had the uncomfortable feeling that he’d puzzled out where his translation of the spell had gone wrong. Three aspects. Not three priestesses. He wet his lips with his tongue. “Mark my word, I have no desire to kill you. Not anymore, at least.”

  She wrinkled her forehead, considering her options. At the same time she inched her left hand across the underside of the book, feeling her way along the shape of the triangle. Her fingertips slid over one diamond. Then a second.

  Keep going, Athena’s voice said.

  “Em!” Gar shouted from the other room. “Hold on. We’re coming.”

  Her fingertip found a slight dimple in the triangle: the seat in the empty corner.

  “We don’t have all night.” Dux stepped toward her. One step closer. Then another.

  She pushed her fingertip into the dimple.

  Help me understand, she called out to Sallie and Athena.

  A wave of adrenaline-fueled energy surged into Em, the conjoined magic of the three aspects. She swayed from the power of it, her vision going black for an instant as the power roared through her blood, her flesh, her skin. She looked at the page, her eyes seeing the words with perfect clarity, her ears hearing Saille and Athena’s voices as they chanted the words. She opened her mouth and joined in.

  Dux shrunk back. “Stop it!”

  Em lifted the book over her head. Purple light shot out from Merlin’s crystal. It illuminated the ceiling, then fountained down all around her like purple rain. She lost sense of the floor beneath her feet and rose into the air. Saille and Athena’s arms encircled her. Their chant rang in her ears, words she didn’t consciously understand but she knew their sole intention: Banish his magic. Drain it. Drain it. Be gone!

  “Stop!” Dux screeched.

  “Em, hold on,” Gar’s voice thundered in the background.

  Everything in the room rose alongside her. Sofa. Toppled over chairs, magazines…and Dux.

  “I’ll curse you,” Dux slurred. His body twitched and jerked, tremoring faster and faster as it distorted and slowly twisted upward through the purple rainfall of light and toward the ceiling.

  In the back of her mind, Em heard the slam-crack of something driven hard against the door. An ax. Magic. Maybe both. She sensed the wood splintering. Saw Gar and Devlin race inside. Other faces too: Zeus, Ignatius…a dozen other witches, drawing up their magic. With so many more powerful witches there, it made sense for her to stop working the spell to drain Magus Dux’s magic. They could take him into custody. It was over.

  But Em couldn’t stop. This wasn’t like when she’d killed the Barbie, not blind rage. This was a spell Merlin had created and she and the other aspects of the Goddess had put into action. Once begun, it could not be taken back.

  Dux’s body twisted tighter and tighter. His eyes bulged. One shoulder humped. The other shrank. His legs stretched, impossibly long and skinny. Black sparks crackled up and down the length of him, flickering and fighting for a moment longer. Finally, the sparks hissed out and the sense of his magic evaporated from the room. His body dropped to the floor, still breathing but deformed. And for the time being, drained of power.

  Em lowered the book and slowly drifted downward until her feet touched the floor. As she took her finger from the dimple in the triangle, Saille and Athena’s voices whispered, “So mote it be.”

  Em bowed her head. “So mote it be.”

  Chapter 32

  Where we travel was once our dreams.

  —E. A.

  Em slumped at a table in Dux’s empty barroom, clutching a Dunkin’ Donuts coffee in both hands. Across from her, Chloe rested her head on Devlin’s shoulder. They were both covered in debris from the fight. Scorch marks and burn holes speckled their clothes. Devlin had a couple of bruised ribs. Chloe was trembling and nauseated from a tranquilizing potion Dux had forced down her throat. Still, it was beyond lucky that none of them weren’t hurt any worse.

  Blowing out a relieved breath, Em set her coffee aside and rested her hands on the book in front of her. Merlin’s Book of Shadow and Light. She smoothed her hand along the gold triangle adhered to its cover and brushed the purple crystal at its center. The peaceful sensation of Saille’s and Athena’s spirits coo
led her fingertips.

  Em closed her eyes and reached out to them. You’re free now. You can move on.

  Their magic rippled up her fingers, caressing her hands with their conjoined strength.

  No, Athena whispered. We choose to stay. Blessed be the Northern Circle.

  Our circle. Your circle, Emily Adams, Saille’s voice crooned.

  The weight of Em’s exhaustion faded behind the soaring lightness that filled her heart. Yes. Her circle. All of their Circle.

  “I wonder what the Council will do with Dux,” Chloe said.

  Em opened her eyes. “I don’t care, as long as I never see him again.”

  “Kidnapping. Murder. Thievery. First he’ll be sent to headquarters for interrogation and trial. But they’ll give him a life sentence for certain. His powers will be stripped, so they can’t regenerate.” Devlin stopped talking and sat up straighter as Gar and Zeus walked out of Dux’s speakeasy-bookshop and came across the barroom toward them.

  Warmth flushed Em’s body and her pulse quickened. Claw marks striped Gar’s jawline, along with a fresh bruise. His rumpled black hair was a mat of dirt and plaster dust. But the blue of his unhaunted eyes simmered with magic as bright as a wolf moon, brightening even more when they met hers.

  She rubbed a hand over her throat, unable to swallow because of the longing branching through every cell of her body. She wanted so badly to feel his arms around her, to taste his lips. To kiss the salt from his skin and breathe in his evergreen scent.

  The warmth in her body crept across her cheeks, and she looked down as he and Zeus walked up to the table.

  “Good news,” Zeus said cheerfully.

  Em raised her gaze. Devlin’s grandfather really did fit the moniker of Zeus, and not just because of how dignified he’d looked yesterday with his Doberman. Even in the barn coat he was wearing today he had the aura of a man who held his ground, a leader.

  Zeus rested back on his heels, a satisfied expression settling over his face. “The High Chancellor and Ignatius found decades of recordings in Dux’s office. They peeked at a few. One showed Rhianna bragging about dipping Saille’s athame in a poison that Merlin’s Shade had recommended. As soon as Saille pricked herself for any ritual or spell, she was doomed to have a heart attack.”

  Chloe shook her head. “That sounds like something straight out of Hamlet.”

  “Rhianna couldn’t have been more than sixteen when she did it,” Devlin said. He bent forward and rested his fingertips on Athena’s diamond. “At least no one will be able to accuse her of deserting the Circle.”

  Zeus nodded. “We’ll plan a memorial service once things calm down.”

  The sadness in their voices went straight to Em’s heart. “We freed her spirit, and Saille’s. They can move on or stay. It’s their choice now, and that’s what matters.”

  Gar wandered away from Zeus to stand behind Em, massaging her shoulders as he quietly moved the conversation back a step. “It’s going to take months to go through all the recordings. Clearly, blackmail was one of Dux’s favorite weapons.”

  Em looked up at him. “Shouldn’t we take advantage of everyone being here and confront the High Chancellor about other witches being involved in Rhianna’s plot to destroy the Circle? I mean, he and a lot of the chancellors are here now, right?”

  Gar lowered his voice to a hush. “We can’t afford to take chances. Whatever’s going on is more invasive and complicated than we thought.”

  Zeus leaned forward. “Gar’s right. We need to play things close to the vest for now. Bask in the limelight of the Circle’s victory.” He straightened back up, pride glistening in his eyes as his voice rose. “It appears my ex-coven—my grandson’s coven—has been responsible for the recovery of the largest cache of stolen arcane books ever known. In effect, you four have presented the Eastern Coast branch of the Witch Councils with a library of knowledge that will be envied worldwide.”

  He stopped talking as a group of guards marched in from the bookstore hallway, followed closely by Ignatius and a humpbacked elderly gentleman, both dressed in tweed sports coats and trousers. Judging by the way Ignatius was kowtowing in agreement with the older man, Em assumed he was the High Chancellor.

  Another man trailed in their shadow. Clam-pasty skin. Nose and lip scrunched as if he expected to smell something unpleasant at any moment.

  “Heath Goddard.” Em growled under her breath. She shoved her hand into her pocket and clutched her medallion to calm herself. She wouldn’t let him get to her. Not like he had the last time.

  The guards headed for the bar. One of them strode behind it and began searching through the cupboards and drawers. Ignatius and the other gentleman strolled toward their table. Unfortunately, Heath did as well.

  “So here’s where our heroes got off to.” The High Chancellor puffed a little, winded by the walk up from the lower levels. “The Council wants to extend our thanks to all of you.”

  “Excuse me,” Heath interrupted, “they haven’t been cleared of the charges. They killed Rhianna. In front of a witness.”

  Em bit her tongue. Yeah, right. The Vice-Chancellor’s wife was as reliable a witness as Dux himself.

  Chloe jumped to her feet and pinned Heath with a glare. “That’s bullshit. Her murder was Dux and his wraiths’ doing. Not us.”

  “Chloe.” Devlin put a warning hand on her arm, easing her back into her seat. “I think we should let the Council work this out.”

  She glowered. “I suppose you’re right.”

  Ignatius nodded. “Wise idea.” He narrowed his gaze on Heath. “Did you arrange for the moving vans yet?”

  His mouth opened and snapped closed. “Ah, no—but I’ll call for them right now.”

  “Better make them tractor trailers,” the High Chancellor said. “I suspect there are things yet to be discovered in the bowels of this lair.”

  As Heath dutifully retreated to a nearby table to make his call, Em wiped her hand over her mouth to hide a smirk. Still, she couldn’t resist ripping a hole in his plan to defame them. Besides, Chloe deserved all the support she could get. Em smiled at the High Chancellor. “Would you mind telling the Vice-Chancellor’s wife something for me?”

  His bushy eyebrows lowered, as if he were puzzled by her request. “Why, of course. What is it?”

  “Um—” She struggled for the best way to phrase her words, since she’d only overheard the information. “Dux hinted that he might have a spell that could help her son.”

  Chloe’s head whipped up, her eyes widening as if she’d just remembered the conversation—which wasn’t surprising, since she had been drugged when Dux told her. “Em’s right. Dux was evasive, but that’s the feeling I got too.”

  A delighted smile spread across Ignatius’s lips. “That is fantastic news.”

  “Yes, very much so,” the High Chancellor said.

  Heath lowered his head, scowling at his phone.

  Em nibbled her bottom lip. She could top that news off by adding that Athena and Saille were now capable of fully manifesting and testifying in the Circle’s behalf. She could also summon Rhianna’s spirit, no doubt still attached to her unfinished diamond.

  As if he had read her mind, Gar’s fingers tightened on her shoulder. “Not yet,” he said, close to her ear.

  The High Chancellor cleared his throat. He addressed them all. “If you don’t mind, Ignatius and I need to get back downstairs. These sorts of projects don’t run themselves.”

  The two of them turned and started back across the barroom, gathering up Heath on their way. But as they reached the hallway, Ignatius broke off and strode back to the table.

  “I forgot,” he said when he reached them. “You’re all free to leave. We’ll be in touch if we need more information.” He nodded at Gar. “It’s going to take a few days to get everything squared away here. Once that’s finished, it�
��ll be all hands on deck in New Haven.”

  Gar dipped his head. “Yes, sir.” He hesitated. “I do need to go back to Burlington first, collect my things. Some of the coven members were also interviewing the journalist. Even if we’re calling the investigation on the Northern Circle closed, I’d like to know what they discovered.”

  Ignatius folded his arms across his chest. “Having others do your work? Isn’t that a bit irregular?”

  “There wasn’t anything regular about this investigation. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “That’s true.” Ignatius unfolded his arms and clapped Gar on the shoulder. “See you soon, then. Say, first thing Monday morning?”

  Monday morning? Em glanced up at Gar as the words sank in. Gar was leaving. Soon. Really soon.

  Gar smiled at Ignatius. “I’ll be there.”

  Em clamped her eyes shut, blocking tears. Goddess grant me the power of water, to accept what I cannot change —

  A sharp ache tightened in her chest and she couldn’t bear to go on.

  Chapter 33

  These words do not stand by themselves.

  They are Plath. They are Frost. They are the fade

  of dreams. The sharp blood metal of souls.

  —“Roots” by E. A.

  Brooklyn had homemade corn bread and a crockpot of chili waiting when they got home. It smelled wonderful. But when Em sat down at the kitchen island to eat, the knot of sadness in her chest stole her appetite.

  She toyed with her bowl, poking at the chili while stealing glances at Gar. His face was flushed from a freshly taken shower. His still-damp hair hung over his forehead as he crumbled corn bread into his chili, gulped down the bowlful, and then asked for more.

  Devlin and Chloe began relaying everything that had happened to Brooklyn and Chandler. Midas arrived in the middle of the story. He scraped the last serving from the crockpot and joined them at the island.

  “We owe you, big time,” Devlin said to him. “Your lock-picking gizmos saved our asses. Right, Em?”