“Later, Wil. Let’s just get this done. Do we need Sarah for the ceremony?”
“Actually, no.”
Nor said, “While you were gone, I asked the house if there was a copy of the binding spell anywhere on the premises. Bayley led us right to it.”
“It was in the attic,” said Wil. “You should see all the stuff up there. Who knows what else is lying around in a trunk, waiting to be found.”
“Focus, Wil. So we can do this?”
“Yes.”
“Great, let’s go.”
Wil and Nor exchanged looks. “It’s, uh, it’s pretty intense, Finn.”
“I figured,” I said. Still, I flinched when Wil grabbed a wicked-looking knife from the butcher block.
Nor said, “We planned ahead, just in case, so we have everything ready.” She handed a bag to Wil, who grabbed a sheaf of yellowing pages in his other hand. Nor plunked a second bag on the table and pulled out a tank top and shorts.
“Go put these on,” she said, handing them to me.
“Why?”
“So you don’t ruin your clothes.”
And didn’t that sound fun. I didn’t argue though. I quickly changed in the bathroom and met Nor, Wil, and Fuzzy at the back door.
Nor said, “What do you want to do about Fuzzy?”
“He comes with us,” I said.
When I stepped out on the porch, I came to an abrupt halt. “That wasn’t there before,” I said, looking at the staircase spiraling up the back of the house.
“We’re going to the roof,” said Wil.
Fuzzy and I followed him and Nor up the stairs.
When I reached the roof, I paused to look around me.
A raised platform in the shape of a large, flat circle dominated the middle of the roof. A walkway led from the stairs to it. As we crossed the roof, a rectangular slab sprouted up from the center of the circle.
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. It looked like one of those sacrificial altars I’d seen in horror movies, except this one was made of wood instead of stone.
Wil said, “Lie down on the table.”
I did as he instructed. While I was lying down, he and Nor went to work around me.
Wil walked around the edge of the circle, muttering while he scattered something from a pouch. When he’d made a complete circle, my ears popped. He stopped and came back over to me.
While Wil did his thing, Nor laid out bowls: one each of water, sand, fur, a stick of incense, and a small candle. She set them at particular spots in the circle and then went from item to item, muttering to each. The incense and candle ignited when she spoke to them.
When she was done, she and Wil came over to me. Fuzzy stood nearby but didn’t attempt to leap up on me.
Nor said, “We’re ready.”
“Do you have to give me the temporary bond first, or do we just do the whole thing at once?” I asked.
“Whole thing.” She caught my gaze and said, “This is going to hurt.”
I swallowed hard. “Knife?”
“Knife.”
“Fine. Let’s just do it.”
Nor slashed the knife across my palm. I hissed at the sharp sting.
Wil said, “Keep your palm flat on the table.”
I did, and I could feel my blood sinking into the wood. The house hummed under me.
Nor and Wil circled around me as they chanted. Wil stopped at my head, and Nor stopped at my feet.
The air crackled and pressure built, like it was about to thunder.
Underneath me, the slab writhed. Wooden shoots sprouted and covered me, pinning me to the slab. Then the shoots began tunneling into the skin on my arms and legs. I yelled, in terror and in pain.
Things got hazy after that.
The one clear memory I had was of Nor placing her hands on either side of my head, forcing me to look at her as she asked, “Finn, do you agree to accept the permanent housekeeper bond?”
I said, “Yes, I do.” Then I’d giggled and said something about shouldn’t I be wearing a wedding dress if I was gonna get married?
Things got foggy again after that.
When I fully came back to myself, twilight had deepened into night.
I was still lying on top of the slab. Fuzzy was kneading my lap, purring. I lifted my head and looked down at my body. The wooden shoots were gone. I blinked a few times. There were no marks on me, and there was no blood anywhere. When I raised my hand, the cut on my palm was gone, too.
I turned my head to see Nor was putting the bowls back in the bag she’d brought them in. Wil was walking counterclockwise around the edge of the circle.
“Are we done?” I asked.
They both looked very pale and drawn as they approached me.
“Yes. How do you feel?” asked Nor, concern wrinkling her face.
“Uh,” I thought about it. “Fine? Actually, better than I should. Nothing hurts.”
Wil didn’t look surprised. He said, “Try sitting up.”
I put a hand on Fuzzy to keep him steady and sat up slowly. As soon as I was upright, the slab underneath me flowed into a chair, so that I could lean back comfortably.
And suddenly, I felt my connection to the house. It was like an extra presence in my mind. I could feel its joy and something that I thought might be hope radiating toward me.
“Hi, Bayley. You doing okay?” I asked. I heard a single grunt from a nearby plank, but I didn’t need it because I could feel Bayley’s “yes.”
I closed my eyes briefly and tried to sort through the information that was knocking at my consciousness. This was much different than the temporary bond. Not only could I sense all sorts of things coming from Bayley, but I could feel the property around us. I couldn’t quite sort through it all yet, but I felt like I could reach out to the trees around us. I stretched my mind and realized I could clearly feel the edges of the property.
Opening my eyes, I stared at the forest around me. I gasped as all the trees in my sight bobbed in unison, as though they were nodding hello to me.
“Whoa,” said Wil.
Nor looked awed.
I wondered if my sense of connection would get stronger and what kind of effects it would have. Well, I was going to find out. For now, I tried to shut everything into a corner of my mind so I could think clearly.
I hugged Fuzzy in my arms and stood, wobbling a bit.
A rumbling, rustling, creaking sound made me pause. As we watched, tree-shaped posts popped up along the wooden walkway, continuing all the way into the circle, ending right in front of me. The branches of the trees wove together to form a rail to help me across the roof to the stairs.
The tree post closest to me reached out one branch. I held out my hand to it, and it gently wrapped around my outstretched hand.
“Well,” I said. “I think this is going to be the beginning of a very interesting friendship.”
Chapter Forty
I sat in the treehouse Bayley and Libby had built for me, sipping a cup of coffee while Fuzzy napped beside me. From up here at the top of Libby, I could see the ocean in the distance.
Nor and Wil had gone back home, but I video chatted with Nor online nearly every day, and she and her girlfriend were planning to visit soon. Wil was also due back for a visit next week. As official liaison between me and the council, he had a lot of work ahead of him.
Once Wil and Nor had informed Sarah, Meg, and Doug about the bonding, they’d taken off for parts unknown. Wil took care of making sure that Meg’s and Doug’s things were packed and carted off, so now the house was officially mine. Bayley and I were in discussions on how we’d like to redecorate.
I’d gotten a text from a number I didn’t recognize yesterday. I nearly fell off my chair when I’d realized it was from Lars. He said he works for some kind of mercenary outfit that caters exclusively to the magical families. I guess I must’ve made an impression because he told me to keep his number. He seemed to think I was going to need it.
He was prob
ably right. But I wasn’t without allies. With Bayley’s enthusiastic approval, I was planning on hosting the first multi-magic dinner in, well, forever. Pete, Lou, Eagan, Zo, and the doc were all coming. I hadn’t invited Gram. I was still mad at him. But there had to be a less douchey member of the water family somewhere, and I looked forward to meeting them eventually.
Reportedly, the council was horrified.
Bayley and I found that hilarious.
Despite their disapproval, the council had stuck to its part of the housekeeper bargain and set up a generous account for me. But they were withholding in other ways. They refused to tell me what the big deal was with the door until they’d decided what they were going to do about me. I’d only gotten up the courage to try to open it again once. It’d opened easily. To the closet. For now, I’d decided to leave it alone. But I knew I was going to have to figure it out sometime soon.
I’d also epically failed in figuring out my necklace. Whatever was living in there refused to talk to me about who or what it was. But I still couldn’t bear to take the necklace off. Wil was setting me up with a magic tutor and hopefully I’d learn enough to be able to figure it out eventually.
Fuzzy yawned, stretched, and stood up. When Dr. Meriwether had called about collecting him, I’d told him not to bother. He’d laughed in a way that said my response was exactly what he’d been expecting. I looked at Fuzzy. He stared back at me. I shook my head and smiled. Nothing about him was expected, and that was just fine by me.
I stood and looked out over the property, my property. A deep sense of peace filled me, edged with excitement. There was so much to explore here. It was going to take me weeks just to walk the entire property. And then, of course, there were the secrets that the house was hiding.
“C’mon, Fuzzy. Let’s go find some magic.”
Acknowledgments
I’ve been very fortunate to have a lot of support along this book writing adventure.
First and foremost, my deep and heartfelt thanks to Michael Tangent for outstanding editing and design, and for your unwavering friendship. Years before I finally sat down at the keyboard, you told me I could do this. Unfortunately for you, in the six years it took me to finally release this book into the wild, you had to keep reminding me. Daily. Sometimes hourly. You did so with humor and kindness, not to mention a whole ton of cello/sax/flute/trumpet/oboe/French horn/euphonium. You’ve helped make this book better with your clever insight and ninja-level attention to detail, and I love the cover so much I grin every time I see it. Thank you for the hours of plot noodling and patient hand-holding as I stumbled my way through this process. I’m so fortunate to have you with me on this journey.
This book started as a NaNoWriMo novel. Thank you, NaNoWriMo! At the time, I was recovering from a serious illness and literally staggered into the Austin Java Writing Company’s NaNoWriMo meetup. They didn’t bat an eye at my wonky, wobbly state and, in fact, welcomed me and made me part of the group. My sincere thanks to my Austin Java Writing cohorts: Hannah Baumann, Emily Bristow, Casi Clarkson, Audrey Coulthurst, Ivy Crawford, Delia Davila, Enrique Gomez, Amber Jonker, Kurt Korfmacher, Rebecca Leach, Deanna Roy, Lori Thomas, Zabe Truesdell, and Helen Wiley. Thank you for all the laughter and support. In particular, thank you to Deanna Roy and Audrey Coulthurst for sharing your advanced authoring knowledge with me. I’m lucky to have such excellent author models to learn from.
Being friends with an author takes a special kind of endurance, and I’m very grateful to have some really patient friends and family. Thank you all!
In particular, thank you to Morgan Miars and Derek Koger. For all the dinners I hijacked with book talk and all the nights I kept you standing in your kitchen discussing magical theory, I thank you. Also, Morgan, my sincere thanks for the excellent styling and make-up artistry. If I’d done it myself, in all my photos I’d have looked like a four-year-old who got into Mom’s makeup. Instead, thanks to your skills, I actually look like an author. And Derek, thank you for the hours you’ve spent helping me with my website and for not once asking me if I’ve tried turning it off and on again.
Thank you to my excellent advanced reading team: Amanda Barboza, Mary DeNatale, Michael Duhan, Steven Elliott, Tina Giakoumis, Alesha Howe, Francis Jesch, Mary Jesch, Shauna McQuade, and George Moromisato. My peeps, your enthusiasm and support has meant the world to me.
In his book On Writing, Stephen King talks about having one, specific reader that you write for. For me, that person is my alpha reader, Moira DeNatale. If you want to know what above-and-beyond support looks like, look no further than Moira. She read the chapters in this book as I completed them, giving me feedback and encouragement that kept me writing. Even though it was torture for her to read a tiny bit, then have to wait however many weeks it took me to get the next bit done, she hung in there, cheerleading me the whole way.
Thank you, Mo. Words are not adequate for how thankful I am for all you do.
And last, but by no means least, thank you to my readers. I’m very grateful to you for joining me and Finn as we adventure forth. My goal in these books is to bring some laughter and a little magic into your day, and I hope I’m sending you on your way with a smile.
And guess what? There’s more magic to come.
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A House for Keeping Page 28
