Time had ceased to exist in this literal hell hole.
Aerin ran a sharp fingernail over the full tattoo inked over his back, a gift from the Goddess as ancient as time, depicting a fallen angel with a massive feathered wingspan. The black-hooded skeleton figure held a scythe with the River Styx flowing at his feet while fire and brimstone burned behind him.
"Tell me, Bane, how do I go about getting your wings to extend?" Aerin purred as she traced the lines of the inked feathers.
Why would she possibly want to know that? But he was afraid he already knew the answer.
"I've always wanted a coat made of feathers, and your wings would make a marvelous accessory."
"Release me, and I'll gladly sever them for you myself." Taking his wings would be in a sense a form of castration, but if they got him released, he would gladly pay the price.
"Now what would be the fun in that?" Her laugh cut like razorblades, and he heard a knife slide free of its sheath. "I'm afraid this might hurt a little."
****
Tierra woke on a strangled scream, her body bathed in cold sweat.
No, no, no!
She threw back the covers and raced for the bedroom door, hollering for her sisters. Claire and Moira met her in the hallway.
"What the fuck, Tierra?" Claire asked, clutching her robe, her hair a mess.
"Is it the baby?" Moira followed, wearing a tank top and thin straps of lace for underwear, pairing the outfit with unicorn tube socks.
"Get the book! We have to help Killian. She's cutting him, trying to amputate his wings." Tierra ran up the stairs to the attic, not waiting to see if they followed.
"For Goddess's sake, slow down before you take a tumble," Moira said, running on her heels.
"Where's Aerin?" Tierra ignored Moira's warning and busted through the attic door. Claire recited the spell, revealing their mother's sanctuary.
"Where else?" Claire cursed. "She sent a text saying she was spending the night with Julian."
That would be another lie and something to deal with later. Right now, Killian needed whatever she could do for him. "We can't wait for her." Tierra entered the room, her white nightgown flowing around her legs. She laid her hands over Grim. "Protection spell." The pages surged in a whirl and stopped on the spell she had ordered. She would have to modify it a bit to fit her needs.
"Just how are you going to protect him?" Moira asked, flanking Tierra on the south side. Claire took the east corner. "You can't reach him. We've already tried."
"I was there. I saw. I might not know how to get him out, but if I can see, maybe I can cast." She looked at them to help her. "Please. We have to find a way."
"I have an idea." Claire turned and grabbed an olive-colored book off the shelf. "I read in here about trances, waking dreams. If we can put you in that state, maybe we can do something. No guarantees." She pointed to Moira. "Light four white candles, and set them in the directions of east, west, north, and south."
"You got it, sis." Moira hurried and followed Claire's instructions.
Claire found the page she was looking for, her lips moving as she silently read. "Okay, we need lavender oil, ground valerian, and passion flower root. Yes, there on that shelf."
Moira grabbed the items. "What do I do with them?"
"Mix a teaspoon of valerian and passion flower in a cup of blessed water." She turned to Tierra. "Lie down on the window seat, put the pillow behind your head, and get as comfortable as you can."
"I can't find the blessed water," Moira said, scanning the items stocked in the room. "Wait, yes I can." She closed her eyes and reached out with her witchy senses. "There you are." She grabbed the jar of sanctified water and poured it into a chalice, mixing in the herbs. "Holy Hannah, this smells like the tail end of a horse."
Moira brought the goblet over to Tierra who reached out for it. "Hold on, do we have any idea what this will do to the baby?"
Claire paused. "Not a clue. Tierra?"
Panic had her thoughts in a tizzy. She knew the answer to this question but couldn't find it in her chaotic mind. Both passion flower and valerian root were common for aiding sleep. She was sure the passion flower was fine but not so much on the valerian root. She closed her eyes and said a small prayer to the Goddess. "We have to risk it."
"Knowing the parents, you could probably feed that tadpole a dynamite and nitroglycerine cocktail, and it'd be right as rain," Moira muttered, relieving Tierra.
"Right, forgot we weren't dealing with a purely human fetus here." Claire knelt next to the window seat. "Now drink, but only if you're sure."
"I'm sure."
"Got the spell in your head?" Claire asked.
"Yes." Tierra drank and shuddered as the vile mixture slid down her throat. "Good Goddess, that's awful."
"Smells like shit, gonna taste like shit," Moira said.
"All right, here goes nothing." Claire picked up the lavender oil and anointed Tierra's forehead, temples, and chest, over her heart. "Aerin's going to get a piece of my mind as soon as she shows her slutty self. She should be here."
"Don't worry about her," Tierra said. "There isn't time. We'll deal with her later. What's next?"
"Moira, I need you to act as her anchor."
Moira picked up Tierra's feet, sat down on the bench, and cradled them in her lap, rubbing her soles. "This work?"
"Hell if I know. I guess we're about to find out." She turned to Tierra. "You're sure about this?"
"We're wasting time with questions. Let's do this."
Claire swore. "Okay, I need you to breathe in four times and let each breath out slowly. Close your eyes and envision Bane as you saw him in your dream."
Tierra shuddered but followed Claire's instructions. She relaxed her muscles one by one as she fell under the thrall of Claire's soothing voice.
"I'm going to count to fifty. Think only of Bane. Search him out. That's it, slow your breathing."
Claire's voice hummed in the background as the room and space disappeared, and suddenly she was in the tomb with Killian. She gasped, seeing the image of herself wielding the knife slicing into his back. She covered her mouth as bile rose in her throat.
"Tierra, calm down. Breathe." Claire's voice sounded as if it came across the sea from another continent. But it was enough to center her. "Nod if you can see him."
She nodded, a whimper escaping her. Her eyes widened as she took in the horrific scene and breathed in the rank smell of the room.
"Concentrate on the spell, Tierra."
She swallowed and began.
"Goddess of day and night, protect this man in my sight.
In this place and in this hour, I call upon my power,
erase the damage that has been wrought,
and protect him from the evil that is sought.
I command that my will be done by the bond that binds us three.
So mote it be . . ."
A celadon point of light grew before her until it surrounded Killian in a translucent bubble. His torturer screamed and flew back, as though repelled, hitting the stone wall and falling into a heap of unconsciousness.
Tierra watched in fascination as the cuts on Killian's back knitted together until they were but a memory. His skin glowed under the verdant sphere, and he gasped in a fortifying breath. He lifted his head and looked in her direction.
Could he see her?
"Tierra?"
Her heart swelled in her chest, and she reached for him.
Chapter Eight
"Tierra!" Claire yelled. "Wake up!"
"Come on, sugar, come back to us." Moira gripped her feet, her nails sinking into Tierra's flesh.
"Ouch," Tierra murmured, trying to free herself from Moira's clutches. She felt like she was mired in mud, her movements sluggish, her limbs heavy. "Let go."
"Thank the Goddess," Claire breathed. "Open your eyes, yes that's it. Focus on us, Tierra."
"She doesn't look good," Moira said. "Tierra, if you don't snap out of it, Claire's goi
ng to light you on fire and then I'm gonna dump you in ice water."
"I'm good," Tierra croaked out in a voice raspy with exhaustion.
"No, you're not. You're as pale as the underside of a gator and as cold as beer in a cooler." Moira rubbed her hands up and down Tierra's legs. "Get a blanket," she told Claire.
Claire disappeared but quickly returned, smothering Tierra with a quilt, tucking it around her until she couldn't breathe.
"I'm okay." I think.
"Did it work?"
"He saw me, called me by name. I think the spell worked better than I'd planned. It repelled me—his attacker—and then this beautiful, moss-green sphere enveloped him. His wounds began to heal. We've got to save him before I—she—does more to him."
"We will, Tierra." Claire shared a look with Moira that was anything but reassuring.
"We have to." Tierra sat up, clutching the blanket around her shoulders. "This is all my fault. I have to fix it."
"Now, sugar, don't go gettin' upset again. Remember what the midwife told ya."
"Don't tell me not to get upset. Upset is all I know right now!"
"Uh, Tierra." Claire looked toward the outside wall. "Might want to dial it back. Whatever it is that you're doing."
"Fiery frog's foreskin!" Moira jerked to her feet. "How're you doin' that?"
Tierra had no idea. The wood that made up the outside wall had come alive, similar to what had happened when she had been almost burned at the stake. The planks rounded their edges and pulsed with life. Suddenly she knew what she needed to form. A magical push of energy and the slats of the wood rippled, morphing into roots, twisting and tying themselves until they created the shape of a door.
"Where the hell do you think that goes?" Claire asked, her amber eyes wide.
"Only one way to find out." Tierra stood and reached for the leaf-shaped knob.
"Wait!" Moira grabbed her arm. "No person in their right mind opens a door that is four stories off the ground."
"Doubt it opens to the backyard," Tierra said. "Maybe it opens to where Killian is?"
"Oh, no, you don't." This time Moira yanked her back. "You're not gonna open a door to Hell that leads into our house."
"Did you make the door, or did the baby?" Claire asked.
Tierra narrowed her eyes. "What difference does it make?"
"It makes a difference. You know that," Claire said.
"I fashioned the door." Though she wasn't one hundred percent sure she accomplished it alone.
"Why?" Moira asked.
"I'm not altogether sure, but it has something to do with rescuing Killian . . . and answering more questions. I think. It's all a bit fuzzy."
"Ha, see, another reason not to open a magical door," Moira said. "Y'all recall what happened in The Witch, the Lion, and the Wardrobe."
"Now you're grasping. Besides we aren't in a wardrobe. And I think it's The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe." Tierra wrapped her fingers around the leaf-knob again, her wand suddenly appearing in her other hand. "I'm opening the door. It might be a good idea to be ready for whatever is on the other side."
Moira's wand materialized, too.
"Great. Remember that I don't have a wand," Claire said. "Hell, couldn't we at least take a moment to get dressed? We're in our pajamas. Plus, I wouldn't mind packing some heat."
"Sis, you're always packin' heat." Moira smiled. "Alrighty then, open the damn thing."
Tierra twisted the knob.
Chapter Nine
The door slid silently open under Tierra's hand. Excitement and a twinge of fear mixed together to create a heady cocktail. Her senses sharpened, and she viewed the misty landscape beyond the threshold.
The door in the attic had opened inside the Standing Stones.
Claire gasped, the sound full of reverence and wonder.
"I'll be a buggered gnat," Moira whispered.
Goddess, she loved being a witch. Times like this reinforced that the world did revolve around magic, and she was incredibly blessed to be a part of it.
Storm clouds danced over the full moon, causing a blue, silvery light to flirt over the stones not unlike a lover's caress. The stones glowed as if constructed out of deep sea pearls, while leaves drifted lazily, more than ready for the long slumber promised around the corner. Fragrant whiffs of smoke from someone's campfire tinted the crisp, moist air laced with undergrowth mulching the rich soil beneath their feet.
Tierra dragged a deep breath into her lungs and held it, savoring the feel of the cooling air and the chill of the ground beneath her bare feet.
"Who the hell is that?" Claire asked as a tall man morphed from the mists, running and yelling at them, his long duster jacket blowing out behind his long legs.
"Reaper," Tierra said. "What's he doing here?"
"No!" Reaper yelled, swinging his arms sharply to the side in a gesture to stop. "Shut the door!"
Suddenly the mist floating around the stones divided into individual apparitions. Hundreds of them streamed toward them like a hungry flock of birds. Eerie wails and high-pitched screeches seethed through the midnight air, causing goose bumps to rise on Tierra's flesh and fear to flow in her veins. A deep fluttering rat-a-tatted in her stomach. Could the baby be warning her?
Now would be a good time for that force field.
She and Moira raised their wands as the spirits flew their direction, while Claire formed a fireball. All were useless as the angry souls swarmed.
"Holy spankin' spirits!" Moira shrieked.
"Shut the goddamn door!" Reaper gained ground, but he was still too far away, swatting at the troupe of ghosts swirling around him.
An icy punch hit Tierra as a ghost shot right through her. The surreal sensation knocked her to the ground and stole her breath. Claire screamed, encased in a glacial mass of specters, while Moira waved her wand, adding rain to the mix that pierced like needles and did absolutely nothing to fend off the poltergeists.
As suddenly as it began, it was over.
Heart beating fast in her chest, Tierra thought it would surely escape its confines as she struggled to her feet, holding the underside of her belly.
"You goddamn idiots!" Reaper advanced, no longer hampered by the spirits. A chilling silence settled over the stones. "Do you have any fucking clue what you've done?"
Tierra was beginning to get an idea.
"What we've done?" Claire fired back. "What did you do?"
"These are our stones, our sacred place," Moira informed him. "How dare you turn it into a pokey for poltergeists?"
"There is nothing on this earthly plane that can contain lost souls except for standing stones. And you, in your stupidity and ineptness, have released them into the world."
"How many?" Tierra asked, her voice weak with the growing implications snaking through her mind like ivy choking an oak tree.
"Thousands," Reaper gritted out through clenched teeth. "I've been gathering and holding them here until you released Death and the gates were reopened so they could properly be placed in Heaven or Hell. Instead, you just freed the fucking lot on an unsuspecting populace who have no idea how to deal with them."
"Come on, they're spirits. What trouble can they really cause?" Claire asked. "It's not like they can touch anything, or communicate with anyone." This last was said with Claire's special brand of bravado.
"Some will be harmless, wandering lost and wailing in misery for an eternity, and that is the smallest percentage of the batch. The others will learn, adapt, haunt, torture, and seek their vengeance."
Oh, good Goddess. Tierra swallowed the lump of dread that formed in her throat.
Reaper wasn't finished nailing his point home. "You have no idea the chaos you've just unleashed, but you're about to find out. And it's all on you. Deal with it. I'm outta here." With a swing of his long duster coat, and a slap of his steampunk top hat against his buckskin pants, he gave them his back and disappeared into the night.
Chapter Ten
"What have you done?
" Aunt Justine demanded, her face scrunched in wrinkles of outrage, hair standing straight up in bright red spikes making her look a lot like a troll doll.
"I'm getting really tired of people asking us that," Claire muttered, falling into a chair at the table, exhaustion radiating off her.
"You didn't wake to being felt-up by a backwater ghost who called himself Skunk. A man who has a tail and a penis." Justine shuddered with revulsion, grabbed the edges of her robe and twisted the fabric into a knot at her throat.
"Not Skunk Hurley?" Moira asked.
"A man like that can take you coming and going," Claire said. "Sorry, punchy over here. Say, wasn't that the name of the guy you lost your virginity to?"
"Don't remind me." Moira slid into the chair next to Claire's. "I should give Uncle Sal a call and catch up on the parish gossip. I've heard nothin' about Skunk bootin' the bucket."
"Apparently he drowned in some swamp after a night of trying to pickle himself in moonshine," Justine informed her. "Stunk like rocket fuel and sludge."
"Yeah, sounds like him. He still here?"
"Yes! Him and what seems like a convention of the unrest. Can't go anywhere in this house without being spied on or run through." She shuddered again. "Feels like your insides have been dipped in a glacial lake. So, again, what the hell did you girls do?"
"Better have a seat, Aunt Justine," Tierra said. "It's been a long night. I'll make some tea." She busied herself in the kitchen, so tired she couldn't think straight.
"Might want to brew some coffee. We're going to need something stronger than tea." Claire gestured to the morning view out the window. "Aerin just pulled in the drive."
"Before she gets here, Julian said that they haven't slept together since that first time weeks ago." Tierra lit the flame under the kettle and then rested against the counter. "She's been lying to us about where she disappears to."
"Now wait a snake-suckin' minute," Moira objected. "Just because they haven't continued doin' any naked noodlin', don't mean they aren't spendin' time together."
Which Witch is Wild? (The Witches of Port Townsend Book 3) Page 13
