Lonely Graves
Page 11
He’dhavehelpedanyoneinthesecircumstances.
“Here she comes,” I told the wolf behind me. She was a woman with long brown and gold hair, fierce eyes, and an expression that demanded vengeance.
Shewasactuallyprettyscary.Ifwedidn’thaveadarkwitchfindingherwayto us, I’d have been edging away from her. Instead I sliced my palm, she sliced hers, and we clutched hands. The moment we did I felt the magic of the wolf
magicbegintomeldwithmyownmagic.Iopenedmysensesandreachedout forFelix.Hismagic,combinedwiththemagicofthewolfwhostoodwithhim flowedintomine.Astreamjoiningariver.NextcameJessieandherwolf.Cyrus andhis.Wewereatorrentofpower.Theshifterpowerwassodifferentandso thesame.Itwasraging,strong,butnotnearlyasnuancedasFelix’sorJessie’s.
Cyrus’smagicseemedtoblossomasitmixedwiththewolfandfinallyshowa flavorofitsown.
Thelittlewolfgirltookaknife,slicedherpalmandthenChrysie’sandfedher magic into the final stream of our river of power. I could feel the dark witch moving through the house. She was a shadow that brought her own darkness along.Andtherewassomethingwithher.Itdidn’tfeel—quite—human.
Iletalittleofourmagicleakout.Justenoughtoenticeheronherwayand protectMarthaaswellasIcould.DistractthewitchfromMartha,leadherinto ourtrap,andpray.
“She’snotalone,”Itoldtheothers.Lowgrowlsfilledtheair,butIcouldonly hearthembecauseofthemagicthatwasrampaginginmygrasp.
Theplanwasstupid.Letthewitchin.Holdher.Fightuntilonesidewasdead.
Markuswastheonewhosuggestedthedarkmagic—itwasn’ttruly,trulydark.It workedoffofbloodandsacrifice.ButotherthanChrysie—whocouldn’tspeak butwhoIknewinmyheartwouldhavebeenwilling—allofoursacrificeswere willing.Weweregivingourbloodandourenergytofightthewitch.Wewould succeedordietrying.
“Youthinkyoucanusemyownswordagainstme,”thedarkwitchaskedas
sheblewthedoortothecovenroomopen.
I stared at her. She was…a quintessential grandma. Short, curled hair. All sprayed out with too much hair spray. Age spots on her face and hands. She wasn’told-old.Shelookedasifshehadjustretiredandwasconsideringatripto theEnglishcountryside.
“I don’t know her,” I said to my coven. They shook their heads but a growl startedlowinthefemalewolfbehindme.
ItwasGwenniewhosaiditthough.“That’sMissSanderson.Sheteachesme
inthirdgrade.”
Felix’s curses were drowned out by the wolves in the pentacle. The others were entirely silent. Then a shifting form came towards us. And then another.
They were dogs. But not. Their eyes were too intelligent, too mad, too aware.
Their lips curled back to show wicked fangs, and I found myself whispering gratitudetoallthegodsthatthewolfpackwashere.
TheWitchSandersonthrewupahandandMonicawasslammedintothewall,
shesliddownit,anddidn’tmove.
“Who’s next?” the old woman asked with a granny sing-song as if she was askingwhohadbeengoodenoughforacookie.“Tut-tut.Idon’tlikewaiting.”
Finnthrewahandforward,butheusedanecromancerspellanditmeltedoff thedarkwitch.Hewastossedupattheceilinganddislodgedacoupleofwolves.
“What’sthis?”theSandersonwitchaskedastheylandedontheirfeetnearher.
“Atrap?”
Theoldladycacklefilledtheairasthewolvesbegantocircle.Oneinsidethe pentacleletoutahowl,anditechoedaroundtheroom.Butwasansweredonly bythosewhowereinplainsight.Theothersweresilenthuntersinthedarkness.
Onedroppedandoneofthehoundswasdead.Thewolfmovedlikeablurand
another dog fell and another. The witch shrieked, and I threw a bit of power forwarddistractingthewitchfromthewerewolvesdestroyingher…hounds.My spellfailedasifithadn’tevenexisted.
“She’swarded,”Itoldmycoven.
“Notunexpected,”Felixsaidcalmly,anoakinthestorm,standingfirmwitha wolf’shandclaspedinhisown.
“Sowebreakthewards,”Cyrusaddedwithoutanounceofconcern.Foraboy who hadn’t been able to touch magic a few weeks ago, he had little regard for thecomplexitiesofit.
Theoldwoman’sgazedartedamongstusandshelaughed.“Youthinkyou’re
amatchforme?”
No. No. I didn’t think that for one instant. Another wolf dropped from the ceiling on silent part-pawed, part-human feet. He lunged forward with a knife and she reached back and dug her hand into his chest. He yelped and jerked away. She’d have taken his heart if Felix had pushed at me, leading a jab of poweratthewitch.
“Gods,”Felixsaidandsworeagain.
“Monsters,”Icorrected.“She’sallmonster.”
“Ratherlikeweare,”hesaid.Andtherewassomethingsobloodthirstyinhis voicethatIwaschilled.Andthentherewaslittlethoughtbutthemovementof wolvesandmagic.Allofusattackingoneoldwomanandthefewstandingdogs.
But we were failing. She came closer and closer, injuring wolf after wolf until shewasfacetofacewithme.
“Hello, dear,” she said and ran her fingertip along the edge of power that divided her from my coven—the invisible wall of the pentacle. She wanted to destroyme,mycovenandthewolveshelpingus.Shewantedtorecoverthetwo inthecenter.“Iwilltakeyourpowerwiththeirs.Ithassuchdelightfulflavor.I willkeepyoualiveuntilyourlittlevampirefriendisgoneandburyyoualivein thesamegraveasherbody.Iwilldrainyouanduseyourmagicuntil…”
I stopped listening as her eyes locked on mine. Nothing was happening that couldbeseenwiththehumaneye.Buthermagic—herdarkwellofstolenmagic andmadnesspressedagainstminetryingtobreakmedown.Ifithadbeenjust me,I’dhavecrumpled.ButIwasnotalone.
Felix stood with me. Jessie. Cyrus. Several wolves. Other wolves circled tryingtogetcloser.EvenFinnwasthrowinghismagicatthewitch.But…each ofuswerefailing.
I heard the little girl whistle—our signal. And Markus dropped from the ceiling,twoknivesinhishands.Hedidn’ttryonebitofmagic.Hedidn’tusehis wolf strength. He was not warded. He had dropped every single protection, everybitofmagic,andusednormalkitchenknivestoshoveintothebodyofthe oldwoman.
She had warded against everything supernatural. But the mundane? The potentialsacrificeofabrotherwhowouldriskeverythingtoattackadarkwitch unarmored?Suchacreatureasthisoldwomancouldnotunderstandthatkindof willingsacrifice.
She gasped and as she died, I dropped the magic of the pentacle, all of my ownprotections,releasedmyholdonMarthaandthefinaldisguise.TheknifeI heldinmyhand,hiddenbythehandofthewolfbehindme.Iwasgoingtostab thedarkwitch—butthewolfdidn’tletmetaketheblade.Shetookitsoeasily from my grasp, reached passed me, and shoved it into the throat of the dark witch.
“Gwennieismydaughter,”thewolfbehindmesaidtothedarkwitch.“Sheis nevergoingtoworryaboutyoucomingforheragain.”
Therewasnoangerinthevoice.I’dhavethoughttherewouldbe.Butthere wasonlyafirmclarityofpurpose.Thismotherwastakingawaythenightmare ofherbaby.Howevershehadtodoit.She’dhaveneverchosentodosomething likethis—butshehadn’tbeengiventhechoice.Thechoicehadbeenmadebya monsterwhohaddaredtopreyonalittlegirl.
Thedarkwitchsnappedoutwithhermagic,butMarthahadneverreallyb
een weakened. The magic that had been laid upon this house by generation after generationofwarriorwitchesroseupasifithadneverfaltered.
“Cleanse,”Isaidinproto-Romanianfocusingmywill.AstheHallowofthe
Hallow line—as the true heir and the possessor of Martha, I was the only one whocouldhavedonewhatIdid.Buttoday,MarkusandIcombinedourblood
with sage, angelica, blessed thistle, and cacao. A pentacle had been laid by ancestors as they built Martha. It was in the very foundation of the house and earlierthatday,I’dplacedacleansingruneinthesixmajorwitchlanguages.It was the most thorough of possible cleanings—what you used to remove
something truly horrible. And the final trap sprang into place, putting us all at risk.
Cleansing runes for dark magic. A magic we had just practiced. If we had gonetooclosetotheedge—wecouldhavebeendestroyed.IscreamedasIfelt myownmagicandthemagicofmyancestorsswarmoverme.Itscouredme.I
couldn’t breathe for the whirlwind of aggressive power. Those of us who’d participatedinthespellfell.Curledinonourselvesandbuffetedbytheunseen.
Iheardhowlsaroundmeandtheswish-whirlingofawindIcouldnotsee.I didn’thearmyownscreams—theymeldedintothechorus,butwhenitstopped, Itouchedmyhandstomyearsandmyfingertipscameawaybloody.
AtfirstIheardnothing,sawnothing.Butslowlyswishesofcolorformedinto faces—FinnandMonica.Markusandtheotherwolves—itwasuswitcheswho
stayed down the longest. Our magic didn’t heal like theirs did and we had alreadybeeninjuredandbroken.
I blinked and blinked again and rubbed my eyes. A pounding formed in my hearinganditwasthepulseofmyheartandthenthemurmurofvoicesandthen theworldsnappedbackintoplace.
“Hecate,goddessofmagic,blessthishouse,”Isaid,curlingontomysideand lettingthepainrollovermelikethetide.
When the pain subsided, I felt a hand in my hair. I cracked my eyelids and foundthegoldeneyesofalittle,scarredgirlstaringdownatme.
“Welived,”shesaid.“Youdidit.”
“Wedidit,”Ireplied.ShetuckedherhandintomineandeventhoughIhurt, and I didn’t want to like her, and loving another person was the last thing I needed,shesnuckrightintomyheart.
“Gotosleep,”shesaid.“Wewonafterall.”
SoIdid.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
I woke alone. It was dark and I had a flash of feeling like it was me in the gravethistime.Thatwe’dlostandeverythingIcaredaboutinSt.Angelushad beendestroyed.Ittookmetoolongformyself-respecttoreachoutandensure thatitwasthebanisterofmybedIfeltundermyfingersratherthanawoodbox.
But it was, in fact, my banister. And when I dared to listen, I could hear the humming of Martha’s ward resetting. I could feel the shuffle of her unaccountablebreezesagainstmyface,andtherewassomethingelseinthefeel ofHallowHouse.
Chrysiewasawake.ShewasfillingMarthaagainwithherspirit—anditwas
still all glitter, but the light of her wasn’t quite so shining. It was as if she’d changedfromsilverglitterrainbowsinmybedtoblackglitter.Shestillshon—
thatwaswhatwasimportant.
Itiptoedthroughthehousepausingateverycreakofthehouse,everyshifting of the wind against the windows until I slipped into her room. Our gazes met acrossthedistanceofherroom,andsheforcedasmileforme.
“Youdon’thavetodothat,”Itoldher.
ShejustgavemethatsamelieofasmileandIcrossedtheroomtocurlinto hersideonthebed.
“Itwasdarkinmyhead,”shetoldme.
“Wewerelostwithoutyou,”Itoldher.
“Thank you for coming for me,” she said, and her voice cracked. Gods. My eyes burned, and because it was dark, I let a tear slip down my face without feelinglikeIhadtohideit.
“You’rethefirstfriendI’veeverhad,youidiot.Thefirstrealone.OfcourseI cameforyou.”
Shesniffedseveraltimesbeforeshecried,“Myhand…”
Hecate,Iwasanidiot.“Elizabethsaidshecanreattachit.”
Shedidn’tstopsniffling,soItookherremaininghandandsqueezeditasshe cried.Shefinallysaid,“I’llbelikefrankenstein’sbride.”
“Shewasalwayskindofsexy,”ItoldthedarknessandthenIunaccountably laughed. Maybe it was because everything had been so very horrible, but we weregiggling.
Whenthelaughterstopped,Chrysieconfessed,“Iwassoscared.”
“Ican’tevenimagine,”Itoldher.AndthenbecauseIwantedthedarknessto
goawayandthelightofChrysietocomebackIsaid,“Felixkissedme.”
She gasped and then said, “Of COURSE he did, you hooker. He has a girlfriend.Also,FINALLY.”
“What?Shutup!Youdidn’tknow.”
“Hehasbeenstaringafteryoulikeapuppyforweeks.”
“Shutup.Hewasjustcaughtupinalmostdying.”
“Nope,”Chrysiesaid,andIcouldfeelhershakeherhead,hurtherself,jump, and then be very still. But she added lightly, as if she wasn’t in pain, “He is enthralled with you. He is kind of obsessed, but not in a creepy way. He’s in deep,deeplikeandverylikelylovewithyou.”
“You’reridiculous.Andaliar.AndI’monlylisteningtoyoubecauseyou’re hurt.Whenyou’rebacktoyou,I’mgoingtopunchyouhard.”
“Speakingofgettingbetter,Ineedthebathroom.”
Iprobablyshouldhavecalledforhelp,butIunhookedherfromherwiresand whatnot and helped her cross the room to her bathroom. I’d have preferred to stickwithher,butwhenshepledforaprivatemoment,Iletherhaveitwithout argument.
Whenshecameback,she’dwashedherfaceandbrushedherteeth.Herhair
was combed, and she seemed—well not human—but not vampire crazy
anymore.Therewasaslighttingetohercheeks.
“Pancakes,” I told her. “Blueberry ones. It’s one of the few things I can do wellinthekitchen.DaddymakesthemeverySundaymorning.
“Bacon. Sausage. Eggs,” she added and I couldn’t help but grin as she kept listening.
Wefoundourwaytothestairs,butLeanderHallowwaswaitingatthebaseof thestairsasifhe’dbeenhovering.
“Godownthebackway,”Iwhisperedtoher.“I’llmeetyouinthekitchen.”
SheslippedawayandthenIclompeddownthestairsfarlouderthanusualto ensureherretreat.Leanderdidn’tgivemeamomenttocatchmybreathorgreet him.
“Whatyoudidwasrecklessandstupid,”Leandersaid.
Ipassedhimandsatdownatadeskinthelibrary.Andhesimplyfollowed, leaningdownonhisfiststotoweroverme.“Youriskedthehomeofourfamily.
You risked your lives. You risked everything. We would have resolved the matter.”
Thepoundinginmyheadfromthecleansingspellhadnotfadedinthethree days since we discovered—to all of our surprise—that we had lived. It seems when you do a cleansing spell against dark magic on a dark witch, she’ll be essentially scoured out of existence. If you have enough power. We did. The
Hallowfamilywasmanythings,butpowerfulwasunquestionablyofthem.And generations of Hallows had reinforced the spells we’d used to destroy the dark witch.Ithadn’thurtthatwe’dcombinedthemagicoffriendshipwiththemagic ofwerewolveseither.
“Iamdisgustedbyyourentirelackofregardfor—”
“Youneedtost
op,”thequietlittlevoicebrokethroughLeander’srage.“Rue hasaheadache,andyou’rebeingmean.”
Leandercoughedashefaceddownthespeaker.Itwasjusthardtoarguewith a tiny little person with golden eyes, scars on her face, and the feeling of a nightmarestandingrightbehindher.
“Youdon’tunderstand,”Leandersaid,“thisisagrown-upconversation.”
“Goaway,”Gwenniesaid.Shefrownedupathimandsaiditagain.“Goaway
rightnow.”
Leanderclearedhisthroatandsaid,“Well.Then.”
HeglancedbackandforthbetweenGwennieandmeandthensaid,“We’llbe
speakingagain,Veruca.”
“You saved me,” I told her and watched the flicker of a smile flash through hereyesbeforeitfadedagain.
“Notenough.Notyet.”
“That’snothowitworks,poppet,”Itoldher,standingandsaying,“Ithinkwe shouldhavesomeicecreamwiththepancakesI’mgoingtomake.”
We made our way to Martha’s kitchen where we found her brother, Felix, Monica,Cyrus,Jessie,Saffron,Elizabeth,andElspeth.
“It’saregularparty,”ItoldGwennie.Westoodinthedoorway,Iconsidered slippingawayandwarningChrysieoffbutSaffronsawus.
“Toolate,”shesaid.
Sowewentin.Iopenedthecupboardsandbeganpancakesfromscratchwhile everyonewatchedme.Iputbaconandsausagepattiesintheoven,glancingfor Chrysie who hadn’t appeared yet. But Martha hadn’t ruffled my senses so I decidedtogiveChrysiespace.
I listened to the others chat about the weather and football and classes.
GwenniewassilentandChrysiewasstillupstairs,hidingfromthecrowdinthe roomIguessed.
“We shouldn’t have left you here,” Elizabeth told us. Since I didn’t disagree withthatstatement,Ididn’tsayanything.
“Hazelsentmetohelp,”Saffronsaid,“Idon’tthinkshe’llbehappywithmy performance.”