by Nicole Maggi
Shen spun to face me. It’s done, he said. The fake Malandanti have all disappeared. We can take the site now.
Wait. I walked out into the hall and stood still, listening. The Tibetan magic pounded both inside and outside of me. There was more of it, somewhere deep in this compound. I had to find it . . .
Stay with me, I said. Just for a little longer. There’s something else here . . . something I need to find . . .
Shen didn’t ask any questions, he just followed me. I didn’t know where I was going, I only knew there was something else I had to do here, one other piece of the puzzle I needed to solve. I ran through the maze, blood pounding in my ears, my footsteps echoing off the stone walls. Somewhere deep inside the compound, a fire burned, its orange glow scattering shadows all around me. I followed its blaze, searching, searching, searching for the heart of this maze, the beating, bleeding heart of this monster whose head I needed to chop off.
I skittered around a corner, scraping my shoulder against the jagged rock wall. “Mothereffer,” I muttered and ran on, toward the light, toward the fiery ball of hell I’d have to leap into . . .
The glow brightened. Warmth flooded into the cold hallways, heat pulsing through me, making sweat drip behind my ears and into my eyes. “Where the hell is it?” I shouted to Shen, but his only answer was the soft padding of his racing feet beside me. Damn the Benandanti and their freaking figure-it-out-for-yourself philosophy. Sometimes I didn’t want to figure it out for myself. Sometimes I just wanted to be told the goddamn answer so I could then get on with more important things, like, you know, killing our freaking enemy.
And then suddenly the hall ended. I almost ran right into the wall, which would’ve been beyond ridiculous. I jerked to the left and skidded to a stop in a large open-air chamber. In the center burned a huge bonfire, sparks dancing up into the night sky. The smell of burning wood filled my nose, with something underneath it, something dirtier, older, earthier. Two figures stepped around the other side of the flames. The Rabbit grinned at me from beneath his hood. I gritted my teeth. He wouldn’t be grinning for long. I’d see to that. But the other figure . . . my gaze darted to him, my mind not quite grasping, my heart not wanting to believe.
“Dad?”
Half his face was in shadow, black and unreadable, while the other shone red with the firelight, so that he looked like half a devil and half a ghost. He stepped forward, the red light shimmering all around him. “Why, Bree? Why did you have to get involved in this?”
“Are you kidding?” It was hard to breathe, like I was wearing a corset someone had laced too tight. “How could I not get involved? This war is a regular Wolfe family reunion.” I fought to get air—any air, just one little tiny sip of air—into my lungs. “You sacrificed Jonah to this war. I had to get involved to save him.” And maybe even you, I added silently, thinking the thought that lay so deep and dormant inside me—that if I saved Jonah, if I ended this war, maybe we could all go back to how it used to be. But standing before my dad, him on one side and me on the other, I finally realized that was never going to happen.
A movement fluttered in the corner of my eye. I whirled, the magic ready at my fingertips. “Don’t even think about it,” I said as the Rabbit raised his arms. Red smoke poured out of him, but I just cocked my head. “Really, dude? You think I’m an idiot, don’t you?” I shot Pakistani magic at him with a wave of my hand, and he disappeared with a pop, banished to another time and place.
It wouldn’t be for long, so I closed the space between me and my dad in a few strides. “Dad, come on. Let’s go. The Benandanti can hide you. Just come over to our side and let’s have done with this.”
Shen growled. The Concilio Celeste would love to have him in their custody. Imagine the secrets we could get out of him.
“Just shut up, okay?” I yelled at him over my shoulder. “This is between me and him. Stay out of it.” And to my relief, he didn’t argue. He simply backed up to the chamber’s entrance to keep a lookout.
Dad reached out and grasped my shoulder, forcing me to look into his eyes. There used to be laughter in those eyes, but that had long ago been replaced with darkness. And now that I peered into them, I could see a lonely sadness beneath that dark. “I can’t leave, Bree.”
“Just come with—”
“Bree. Honey. Bree-girl.” I stilled at the use of the nickname he used to call me when I was little. Bree-girl and Jonah-boy. We’d chase him around the living room and make him our pony. He cupped my face in his hands. His fingers were so cold that my cheeks felt encased in ice. “I can’t come with you. I signed a contract.”
I didn’t need to ask what kind of contract. I could only imagine what the Guild had made him agree to when he’d taken the job with them. Something more than binding, something longer than life. Something like what the devil gives you when you sign away your soul. And I knew better than to think there might be a way out.
“Then, what? You stay here and help them kill me?”
“No. I promise I won’t hurt—”
“Actually, yes, that is what he is sworn to do.”
I spun around and came nose-to-nose with the Rabbit. The grin was back on his face, and before I had time to wipe it off, he rammed into me. Damn, that little four-eyed geek must have spent his free time at the gym, because he was freaking strong. I pushed back, but I was no match. He punched me in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me, and shoved me back into the opposite wall.
I crumpled to the floor and lay still, trying to summon breath back into my body. Pain arced across my middle. Bastard probably rebroke my ribs. I squinted across the chamber to see what the Rabbit was doing to my dad, but my vision blurred and twisted.
Bree. It was Shen. Use the Redwood magic.
Oh. Right. I really hated it when someone came up with a good idea before me. I squeezed my eyes shut and entered that little Tudor house filled with all my knowledge of the magic. I entered the door to the Redwood magic, let its soft yellow light envelop me. It wouldn’t heal any major internal injuries—I’d have to actually visit the Redwood site to get that benefit—but it filled my spirit with energy. Kind of like a jolt of magical coffee. I could have bottled it and become a millionaire . . . but I guessed that fell under the heading of Using the Magic for Selfish Purposes.
The pain in my ribs dissolved. I pulled myself up to all fours. My dad and the Rabbit were on the other side of the fire, out of my view. I crawled around the back side of the bonfire, keeping low and quiet so the Rabbit wouldn’t catch on that I was up and about. I saw their shadows before I saw them, huge black figures etched against the back wall. The Rabbit held a bowl high above his head. I heard him shout something in a language that was as old as the mountains themselves. He tipped the bowl toward my dad, and in the dim glow of the firelight, I saw the stream of red.
“No!” I scrambled to my feet, screaming the word over and over, trying to get to him before the blood touched his lips. But the Rabbit never turned, probably didn’t even hear me coming, so deep in the ritual he was. By the time I reached them, my father’s face was streaked with the ancient, magical blood of the Yaks. I grabbed his sweater and dragged him down to the ground. “Dad. Daddy. It’s okay, I’ll undo it—”
“You can’t undo what’s already been done, Bree-girl.” His voice was shredding as the magic took him apart, undid his being cell by cell. “This was done a long, long time ago.”
His gaze flickered to something behind me, a warning. I spun just as the Rabbit shot red smoke at me. It snaked around me, squeezing tight, trying to force the life out of me. For a moment I considered just letting it happen, letting myself die here next to Dad. I looked at him at the moment his body crumpled to the ground and an enormous Bengal tiger stood next to him. “No,” I gasped.
Bree. Don’t let him win.
It was not Shen. It was not Nerina or any of the other Benandanti, fighting their battle outside the compound. It was Dad. The great taboo was not enough to block our t
houghts from each other. It seemed we did have a connection, that I was a daddy’s girl after all.
You have to survive so you can fight. For Jonah, for your mom, for this whole damn crazy war. Please. Come on, Bree-girl. Don’t let me die in vain.
I met the Rabbit’s soulless coal eyes glowing from beneath his hood. Using every bit of strength I possessed, I dug deep inside and pulled out the Redwood magic. I built a wall of yellow light around me, bursting the red smoke into wisps. The Rabbit stumbled back and I went after him, throwing ball after ball of yellow light at him. The Redwood magic was more powerful than most people gave it credit for; while it could be used to heal, it could also be used to weaken your enemies.
He tried to hit me with Pakistani magic, but I dodged easily to the side. You made this so fucking personal, you asshole, I thought, you deserve whatever’s coming to you. God, I wanted to kill him. And I had never been more justified.
I summoned the red smoke, and this time I wasn’t afraid of it. I welcomed its dark power, let it flood through me. It poured out of me as I stalked toward the Rabbit. He shot one last blast of Pakistani magic at me, but I knocked it aside and kept coming. He was backed against the wall. I slammed the red smoke into him and tightened it around him. I would pop him like a grape, watch him die like he was forcing me to watch my own father die, like he’d forced my brother to watch me being tortured.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard Dad and Shen telling me not to, telling me to let go, but I couldn’t. I held my palm up and pushed the magic deeper into the Rabbit. He met my eyes and had the nerve to wink at me. And then, with a sickening whoosh, he was gone. Disappeared.
I shrieked my anger and frustration into the night, pounded my fists against my thighs. He’d used his last bit of power to send himself to another time and space. Fucking coward. I would’ve stayed and fought to the death . . .
And sometimes you need to know when to let go, the Snow Leopard broke in. I turned to face him. He padded over to Dad’s dying body and lay beside it.
The Tiger that was Dad’s soul paced the chamber. I have to go out there, he said. They’re summoning me, telling me to come out and fight.
“Well, you gotta do what you gotta do,” I said. Every inch of my insides felt defeated. I’d had the Rabbit in my grasp and I’d lost him. And now I was going to lose Dad.
He swung his magnificent orange, black, and white head to me. His eyes bored into me. That’s right, Bree-girl. And you know what you gotta do.
I stared at him. The only sound in the chamber was the crackling of the fire. Shen keened into the silence, a long low howl filled with all the pain that I felt. No, I said. No, don’t make me do that.
Bree, you have to. Shen moved to Dad’s body and laid his head on his chest. Otherwise who knows how much damage he’ll do before his body dies out.
I held my hand up, trying to silence him, trying not to believe what I knew to be true. I crept toward the Tiger. I could feel the anxiety coming off him, the need to be with his Clan. Daddy?
His eyes never left me. Yes, he said. Yes, do it. I was right in front of him now. I came down to my knees. It’s okay, Bree-girl. Look at my body. I’m already dead.
I glanced over. In the flickering firelight I saw the decay spreading across his face and neck. I knew it could take days, that his body would just suffer and suffer. Even if he couldn’t feel it, the thought of it made me sick. I threw my arms around the Tiger’s neck and buried my face in his soft fur. As I did, a powerful déjà vu swept through me. I had seen this before . . . done this before. This moment was the one true vision the Waterfall had given me the night we’d brought down the Guild, the night the Rabbit had put so many false visions in my mind.
I clung to the Tiger, my tears matting down his fur.
I love you, Bree-girl. I know I wasn’t the best father, but I always loved you.
I wasn’t exactly the best daughter, I murmured into his fur. But I loved you too.
Take care of your brother and your mom, okay? Tell them I died a good death.
I will. I promise.
A guttural sound of longing ripped out of his throat. You have to do it now. I can’t stay here much longer . . .
Somehow, I managed to tear myself away from him and stand up. Somehow, I managed to turn inward and enter that Tudor house. Somehow, I managed to find the door to the magic of Angel Falls and summon the red smoke.
But I don’t remember anything after that. In that moment, my mind flooded with memories. The real Tudor house on that quiet street in Charlottesville with the white picket fence out front, jumping into the piles of leaves that Dad had just raked, the lemonade stand he’d built, the swing in the backyard that he’d push me on. “Higher, Daddy, higher!” And he’d push me so high I’d touch the sky.
When I came back down to earth, I lay on my back, the stars bright above me. I felt Dad’s lifeless body next to me. We were alone. Shen had left me, gone to join his Clan so they could claim the site. So Dad and I lay there, side by side, counting the stars like we used to in our Charlottesville backyard until the dawn faded them from view.
Chapter Fourteen
The Awful, Terrible Truth
Alessia
It was odd to not have to step over Bree and her air mattress when I got up in the morning. I washed my face and went down to the kitchen, hoping that Lidia wouldn’t be up yet.
No such luck. She and Mr. Salter sat at the kitchen table, their fingers just barely touching across the wooden surface. What the hell was he doing here? Was he sleeping here now? The second she saw me, Lidia snatched her hand back and jumped to her feet. “Buongiorno, cara. There’s coffee and muffins, or I can make some eggs if you want.”
“No, thank you,” I said, my spine stiff as I sidestepped her and went to the counter. I poured two cups of coffee and turned around. I headed toward the living room, but Lidia blocked my path. “What?”
“Alessia, this is silly. Please let’s talk after school, bene?”
“Won’t you be busy?” I jerked my chin toward Mr. Salter.
“Alessia, your mother and I—” he began.
“I really don’t want to hear it,” I said, a little too loud. I shot a glare at Lidia. “You know he shouldn’t be here. You’re putting him in danger.”
Mr. Salter stepped in front of Lidia. “It’s okay, Alessia. I know about the Benandanti.”
That word, coming from his mouth, punched me in the gut. “What?” I said, looking between them. “Is there anyone in this town who doesn’t know about the Benandanti?”
“I was as surprised as you,” said Heath, coming up behind me from the living room. He plucked one of the mugs of coffee out of my hand and took a sip. “I sat him down last night to tell him everything, but he already knew.”
“Did Nerina okay this?”
Heath shrugged. “Not really, but I told her if he was going to be hanging around he should know what’s going on.”
“I can help,” Mr. Salter offered.
“How? How can you possibly help? Can you dismantle the magical barrier surrounding the Waterfall? No? Didn’t think so.”
“Alessia!” Heath elbowed me.
“And how the hell does he know, anyway?” I narrowed my eyes at Mr. Salter. “You said you didn’t know about the Waterfall that night you were over for dinner.”
“I didn’t know about the Waterfall. Not until Heath told me.” Mr. Salter’s voice was calm, which infuriated me.
“Then how do you know about the Benandanti?”
“Because . . .” He swallowed and his face softened. “Because Dolly was one.”
“Dolly was a Benandante?” My hand shook, sloshing coffee onto my wrist. Heath took the cup from me and set it on the table. “Did she—did she die in battle?”
Mr. Salter shook his head. “No. It was the cancer, just as everybody thought. Even Benandanti can get sick.” A sad smile twisted his mouth. “She never told me about the Waterfall. She told me only the barest minimum, to
keep me safe.”
I tried to wrap my brain around the image of sweet Dolly, kicking Malandanti ass at the Waterfall. Actually, I could see it, because along with that sweetness had come a heavy dollop of sass. I wondered if my dad had known, if he’d suspected that his neighbor was in the same Clan with his parents. And who had replaced her when she died? Had it been Cora?
The answer hit me like a smack across the face.
I put my hand to my mouth, my words escaping between my fingers. “It was me, wasn’t it?” I whispered. “I replaced her.”
No one spoke for a moment; no one needed to. I knew I was right. God, how twisted was this? How many families across Twin Willows had been drawn into the Benandanti’s legacy? How many generations backward did it stretch?
Mr. Salter opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get a word out, Jeff ran in from the living room, Cora on his heels. “They’ve done it!” he yelled, waving a sheet of paper in the air.
I whirled, grateful for the distraction, and snatched the paper out of his hand. It was a printed email, sparsely written. “‘Tibetan site claimed,’” I read out loud.
Cora crushed into me, whooping in my ear. Heath and Jeff threw their arms around both of us so that we were a tight circle of hugs and tears and laughter. I buried my face in their nearness and let the joy of victory wash away the shock of what I’d just learned about Dolly. Even though I hadn’t been there in Tibet, I could taste the success in my mouth. I pictured the scene in my mind, the brilliant blue barrier of Benandanti magic surrounding the site, blasting out the silvery gray of the Malandanti. They had done it. Nerina and Bree—they’d won us a site we’d never before possessed.
