Chapter 23
Bailey nearly stumbled several times. The effort it took to keep feeding Chloe a white noise of raw thought and emotion to protect her from the effect of Mr. Dove’s music was like trying to juggle balls of water while running a marathon. There were thoughts in the jumble she sent across their link that she hoped Chloe wasn’t picking up on—chances were, since Chloe was doing the same thing, she wasn’t even able to pay attention.
She kept pace with Piper, in front of the other three. She couldn’t afford to look backward and keep track of everything but footsteps pounded behind her, first on concrete, and then on gravel, and finally dirt as they sprinted toward the tour office and the caves.
More than that, there were pops of sound and gusts of wind, as well as bursts of cold and the sound of frost rapidly congealing over grass. Bailey wanted to shout back at Frances that she should be careful not to give anyone freezer burn, or worse, but the thought came and went as she flew across the ground.
Another group nearly flanked them—they would have, if there hadn’t been a sudden gale of wind that knocked back the front of the smaller mob, who had to scramble to their feet just as Bailey, Piper, Chloe, Aiden, and Frances made it to the entrance of the caves.
“What now?” Piper asked, shouting over the howling wind that Frances whipped up.
“It’s all sort of… ad libbed at this point,” Bailey said. She found Frances. “I need Aiden to help me—can you hold them off on your own?”
“Not as young as I used to be,” Frances muttered. “But I can for a while, yes.”
Bailey nodded, and turned to Chloe. “I need Aiden, and I need to do magic. How long can you keep yourself clear without my help?”
Chloe frowned, but put a hand against the wall of the cave, and closed her eyes. She pressed her lips together. “I can manage for a while, with the help of the Caves. I don’t know how long, though.”
“Hopefully not long,” Bailey said, though she wasn’t quite feeling it. “I need to take Aiden further back. Can you still keep him protected?”
Chloe nodded, smiling. “Much to you learn you still have, young jedi.”
Bailey laughed quietly despite the circumstances, and started to leave. She stopped, though and turned back to her mother. She hugged her tight around the neck. “I love you. Just… so we both know it.”
“We’re going to be okay,” Chloe said. But her voice was shaky.
Bailey nodded anyway, and very gradually let her mind relax. Chloe swallowed, and pressed a hand to the cave wall.
“Alright,” Bailey said as she passed Aiden and Piper, “come with me. We need to go further in.”
“He’ll come,” Aiden said softly. “Mr… ah… the Faerie. If he knows we’re here, he’ll come to stop us.”
“Let’s hope he does,” Bailey said. “Then we can send him back where he came from.”
She led the two of them back, and Aiden helped Piper with the stroller over some of the uneven patches. They worked their way through the caves until it got dark, and then Aiden created a small light for them. With no warning beforehand, Bailey whipped around when it appeared.
“I’m still me,” Aiden said. He tapped his head. “Chloe’s got me. As long as I ignore the… noise… I should be fine.”
Bailey swallowed hard and glanced at Piper. If Chloe lost him, there was no way Bailey could take Aiden down herself. Maybe, with the Caves around her—if they decided to answer—she could hold him off for a while. Better not to think about it.
They came, ultimately to the seventh cave, where she and Aiden had passed into Faerie before. Piper parked the stroller, and waited for instructions, her lip between her teeth, one foot tapping on the stone floor.
“So,” Bailey asked, “any idea how to actually do this?”
“I believe I’ve considered the proper formulae,” Aiden said. “Though, honestly, if I’d taught them to Avery already I would have sent him.”
“Well you’re the one that’s here,” Bailey said. “So, do you know your part?”
“I’ll have to wait for you to begin,” Aiden said. “To tap and call up the magic of the caves. When I see, and feel, what you’re doing, I’ll have a clearer idea of what I need to accomplish.”
“So it’s on me,” Bailey sighed. “Great… I don’t even know where to begin…” A nasty feeling of uselessness lodged itself into her stomach. If she couldn’t do this…
“Bailey,” Aiden said, and knelt next to her. He put his hand on her cheek. “Don’t over think it. Remember before, when we had to find the Keystone. It’s not about your brain—it’s about your heart. You cannot doubt yourself right now. Do you understand? Trust yourself, trust your magic, and trust your forebears who created this place. Trust in their wisdom to provide you with the tools you need. We’ve come through worse than this.”
“No,” Bailey said, “I don’t think we have.”
Aiden smiled. “Alright. Well, it sounded good, at least, and I hope I delivered it with proper enthusiasm. I believe in you.” He kissed her, softly, sweetly, and then drew back only a little bit. “And I love you.”
It did dampen the fear. It warmed some of the ice in her stomach. Bailey cleared her throat, and tried to make her mind and heart still. When she reached for it, her magic was there, welling up and chiming against the magic of the Caves like a bell. She opened her eyes, and waved Piper toward her. “Bring Riley.”
Piper hesitated, uncertain, but did as she was asked. She knelt and got him out of his stroller, and then hugged him close to her as she came and sat where Bailey pointed in front of her.
“I can’t lose him,” Piper whispered—begging and warning at the same time.
“I know,” Bailey told her. “I won’t let anything happen to him. I promise.”
Piper didn’t relax, but she nodded, and cradled the toddler close. Riley wasn’t asleep, but he wasn’t squirmy at the moment—he kept looking back toward the sound of shouting people and the howling of wind.
Bailey closed her eyes, and touched the cave floor. Please, she thought, pouring her magic into it, please help us. Please answer me. I need your magic. I need your aid. I need to protect my friends, and my town… and my world.
At first, there was nothing. Maybe a whisper, deep down, amid the dull throb of magic under her fingers. Come on, come on… please, don’t fail me. Don’t let me fail everyone.
Her desperation poured out as well, coursing through her until the stress of it began to make her eyes burn. Tears began to stream down her face, onto her hands and the stone floor.
And then it was there.
It wasn’t like before. She felt fear, and pain, and an almost animal rush of adrenaline hit her. All the terror of the last moments of those who’d been killed to taint the Caves was mingled into the intelligence that inhabited them, twisting it almost out of shape entirely.
Beneath that, though, was the core of the genius loci, still pulsing softly, protecting its heart to the best of its ability. That part rose through the turmoil and met Bailey’s magic, felt her need, her intention, and for the second time agreed to work with her.
Chapter 24
It arose in a rush, like a waterfall in reverse, pouring up through Bailey’s touch, into her arms, down her spine and back through the root of her magic, filling her as it reconnected with itself to make a circuit that felt like it might burn her alive, or turn her into the wind, or something even more insubstantial. It was ecstasy.
And it was knowledge. Her lips began to move as she spoke that same ancient, unknown language, the native tongue of the Caves—maybe the native tongue of magic, for all she knew. It was ephemeral, there in her mind, and then spilling from her lips, and then gone.
She felt it when Aiden lifted his wand and began to work, walking a circle around her, his own magic hard edged compared to the fluid light that was the magic of witches past. But where his form took shape, she filled the spaces between and gave their construct muscle over the skeleton he provid
ed. He gave it intellect, and she gave it heart. Aiden crafted purpose, and Bailey crafted direction.
Through the lens of Aiden’s magic, once hers was entwined with it, she began to sense Riley’s presence—his magic, not entirely alien to the caves, but not precisely native either. She reached out toward him with one hand, pausing to check with Piper, whose wide eyes looked stunned as she stared at Bailey. After a second, Piper nodded and held Riley out from her just a bit.
Bailey touched him softly on the arm, not just the boy—but the magic inside him, feather light, pure, and tiny. It was just a seed that had sprouted too early, and that sprout was weak. She fed it, gave it the water and sunlight and soil of her own magic, of the magic of the caves, wove it into the casing that had cracked to let the little sprout free.
She did it on instinct, directed by the magic of the Caves, cradling the little seed with tender care and nurturing hope. As the magic of the Caves blended into it, Riley gave a tiny gasp, and then stretched as if waking up from a nap. He closed his eyes, and smiled, and Bailey realized then that she could feel him.
Not just with her hands, and not even just with her gift. It had been so subtle before, that she’d never realized quite what the connection to the Caves meant for her and the other witches. Her awareness of them had always existed, ever since her magic awoke—it was quiet, comforting, a kind of kinship that ran deeper than bone. Only too late did she realize what she’d done, and that it couldn’t be undone.
It very nearly shook her concentration, but she gave into it, pressed the alarm of it aside, and instead welcomed Riley into the bond, passed to him her wonder, her hope and joy. His magic flowed back across the connection, into the Caves, and up into the construct Aiden and Bailey created together. It infused the mounting spell, and the Caves in turn infused Riley, replacing what magic passed from him, seemingly aware of his delicate state.
“We’ve got it,” Aiden breathed, and quickly began to compensate, making small alterations as he went, his tongue between his lips, his wand moving so quickly Bailey couldn’t have kept track of it even if she could have spared the attention for it.
Instead, she delved deeper into the magic of the caves, reached outward, through the ley lines that spread out into the world, to the edges of Coven Grove, following the lead of the mercurial intelligence as it guided her mind.
“Almost,” Aiden muttered. “Be ready.”
Bailey was. She felt stretched, as if she was a bowstring drawn back and being drawn back further and further until she was sure she would break. She felt the construct, her and Aiden’s magic coming to life as something infused with the intelligence of the Caves, swell and tense as it drew both of their magic from them like something sucking in a great breath.
And then it burst free.
Silent thunder struck the world, more a bone-deep thrumming shiver than a sound, and Aiden staggered to the cave wall. Bailey rocked back on her heels, lost her balance, and tumbled backward, onto her back.
Riley made a sound, something between a yelp and a giggle, and then began to laugh. Warm comfort tickled Bailey’s stomach, a quivering sensation that turned quickly into laughter as well, and when she pushed herself up on her elbows she saw and heard that she wasn’t the only one. Aiden was laughing quietly, his shoulder shaking with it.
So was Piper.
Piper.
Bailey’s laughter died, and she met her friend’s eyes. Both of them felt it at the same time, and Piper looked toward the entrance of the Cave, her eyes widening. “Oh no,” she breathed. She looked down at Riley, and held him close, rocking, her laughter gone, and then looked up again at Bailey. “What did you do?”
Chloe sucked in a breath as something swept through the world from the depths of the Caves. It hit something in her mind like a physical blow, dislodging a fog that she hadn’t even realized was there. The world blurred, and then came back into focus clearer than before.
It happened to Frances, too; she could feel it in Frances’ mind and see it in her body as she took a step back, and almost fell, her head shaking.
Then it hit the crowd that had been held off by Frances’ magic, windswept and cold. Some of them staggered forward when the wind died abruptly, to slip and fall on the sheet of ice that was between them and the cave entrance. The gathered residents of Coven Grove collectively staggered, bracing themselves on one another briefly as they blinked away confusion and then began to right themselves and one another.
Questions began to trickle through the crowd. Where were they? What had just happened? Why were they at the Caves? What were they doing with rakes and branches and baseball bats and everything else they’d brought with them in the mob?
Some among the crowd were deputies, and they took over quickly. Sheriff Larson spotted first Chloe, then Frances, and then approached them. He picked his way carefully across the ice sheet.
“Sheriff,” Chloe greeted him. Frances came toward them.
Sheriff Larson kept his voice low. “I never believed the stories my daddy told me,” he said. “But here I am, fifty years later, looking at another strange occurrence with one of the bakery ladies seemingly at the center of it.” He sighed, and rubbed his face, then glanced at the confused crowd. “Is there anything you can tell me that might make a lick of sense, Ms. Minds?”
“Mass hallucination,” Frances suggested. “Something in the water. Maybe a gas leak.”
Bill Larson glowered at her uncertainly.
“It works in the movies,” Frances muttered.
Chloe suppressed a smile—the true threat wasn’t actually passed, and they didn’t have time to be amused, she thought—and laid a hand gently on the Sheriff’s shoulder. “I’m not sure it’s anything we can properly explain now, Sheriff. The important thing will be to get these people back to their homes. I’m afraid whatever’s happened may not be quite done.”
“I want to talk with you later,” the Sheriff told her.
“Certainly,” Chloe said. “I’ll sit down with you and explain everything.”
Just the ghost of a worry passed over Sheriff Larson’s eyes, but he nodded once, tipped his hat, and turned back to the crowd. Chloe and Frances shared a quick look loaded with exasperation.
Chloe had had two such ‘conversations’ with the Sheriff in the past, neither of which he remembered. It was better that way.
This, though…
Chloe and Frances stood close to one another. “The whole town,” Chloe said very softly.
“All of them that could make it,” Frances said. “No way we can wipe them all. Not unless the wizard and your daughter can pull something else off like whatever they just did.”
Chloe didn’t respond.
“That’s twice, you know,” Frances went on. “Twice she’s directly worked with the Caves. This is exactly why you should never have given that Irish bastard a second look. Everyone warned you.”
“It may not be the worst thing,” Chloe said. “She may have just saved us all.”
“You think it won’t have a cost?” Frances asked. She glanced into the depths of the Caves. “You feel that?”
“Of course I do,” Chloe breathed. “But maybe it’s about time things changed, anyway.”
They both began to turn toward the inside of the Caves, to check on those that were still within, when the crowd collectively gasped and began to shout; some of them even screamed, while others stared, mystified.
Chloe and Frances both turned, and then girded their magic for a fight.
Mr. Dove had arrived—not as the white clad owner of the antique shop. Now, he stood tall, several yards off the ground, long hair flowing around him as if suspended in water, his too long fingers grasping a long set of pan-pipes in one hand, and a thick wooden rod that sprouted with fresh twigs in the other. He was dressed in bark and leaves, flowers and moss, bare footed and so beautiful it was almost painful to look at him.
“Well, well,” he crooned, his voice carrying across the crowd easily, “here I tho
ught this was going to be easy. No bother—if you all mean to abandon subtlety, then I’m perfectly willing to play your game instead.”
Chapter 25
The power of the Caves was still within reach, and Bailey sensed it when a sudden shudder passed through the intelligence, followed by what she could only name revulsion—a sense of wrongness with the world, very nearby.
She didn’t even need to wonder what it was. Mr. Dove had come, just as they believed he would.
“He’s here,” she said, for Aiden’s benefit. “Can you manage?”
“I can,” Aiden said. “It was taxing, but I’m not entirely spent yet.”
“What should I do?” Piper asked, clutching Riley to her.
“Stay here,” Bailey told her.
“But… I can feel it… the Caves, I can—”
“No,” Bailey told her firmly. “You can’t do anything yet. We’ll sort this all out later. You have to stay out of the way, I have no idea what’s going to happen. Okay?”
Piper looked like she might argue, that fierceness in her eyes almost lit by new magic she had no idea what to do with. How had it even happened? It must have had to do with Riley. That seed of magic in him… maybe she’d reached too deep, found the part of him that was connected to Piper by a magic far deeper and more ancient and natural than anything in the Caves.
But she held her tongue, and gave a terse nod.
Bailey and Aiden raced to the entrance of the caves.
“…you’re free of my enchantment,” Mr. Dove was saying—to Bailey’s abject dismay—to the gathered crowd of Coven Grove citizens, “doesn’t mean you are safe. Far from it. Wail and despair, mortals—your end is upon you.”
He lifted the set of pipes to his mouth and began to play. Shadows peeled out of the crowd, and from under bushes, and anywhere there was shade from the sun. They swirled as the took on solid shape, and flowed up to the faerie like sheets of lightless black velvet, coiling about on one another and gathering at his feet, his hands, and over his head until he was wreathed in them.
Witching Your Life Away: A Cozy Mystery (The Witchy Women of Coven Grove Book 5) Page 15
