“Yes. She sent me a note.” Keir dropped his gaze as he brushed past and moved down the steps.
Rowe followed. “She found him. That’s great news, isn’t it? Are you heading there to retrieve him?”
Keir set his sights on the garage and hobbled ahead, best he could with the ache in his thigh.
“Slow down on that leg. Let me go with you. You don’t know what she’ll do.”
Keir hissed out a breath through clenched teeth, blocking a torrent of curses about how very well he did know her vicious side. He locked his concentration on maintaining a steady pace.
At the corner of the garage, Rowe caught and turned Keir by the arm so that the two faced each other. Squinting with a look of confusion, Rowe asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just concerned about Waapake—his health.” Keir fought to push the truth away to keep it from reflecting outwardly. “An injury might’ve been what caused him to get separated from me.”
“Didn’t Adara say how he was?”
Keir shook his head, not trusting what might leak from his voice. He waited a heartbeat, and when his friend didn’t ask more, he tugged his arm free.
A single step later, Rowe hurled the expected interrogation. “There’s something you’re not saying.” With that statement, a door to Keir’s past creaked open, one he thought he’d locked years ago.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just in a hurry to get to Waapake, and I’d rather go alone and take him to the vet.” Keir tossed a reply over his shoulder, attempting to dismiss the topic.
He waited until Rowe began speaking, before grasping the garage door handle and giving it a shove. Not hearing the next inquiry would relieve Keir of having to respond, a lame excuse but his best option at the moment.
Metal grated against metal—a foreshadow of his coming encounter with Adara? To better escape Rowe’s probing, Keir moved around the back of the car, steadying himself with a hand trailed along his car’s trunk and fender. The cold steel infused his spine with the strength necessary to outplay the former high priestess.
Rowe skirted by and leaned against the driver’s door. “We’ve been friends a long time. Tell me what’s bothering you. I’d be glad to go along and help; I can drive since your leg’s bothering you.”
The icy metal crystallized Keir’s commitment as he met his friends’ gaze. “I can handle it.”
“If it involves Adara, no one should handle her alone.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Rowe folded his arms. “I needed all of you guys to get her off me last year. And after that, it took most of the coven for Logan to put a dent in her ring of followers.”
“Move aside.” To force his friend to concede, Keir set his jaw and held his gaze steady on Rowe—a standoff. Neither moved for several seconds.
It was Rowe who buckled and cast his eyes away, though he remained against the car door. A muscle twitched along his temple, a sign of his anxiety about Adara, when she wanted nothing but to seduce him. Devoid of compassion, Adara had applied a dangerous, irreversible charm to an innocent girl, made her a pawn in a larger plan. The magic cost the girl her ability to bear children, confused her mind, and left her ailing mother without care. Could Keir take on Adara by himself—conversely, could he risk her harming anyone else?
Rowe’s hand on Keir’s shoulder jolted him from deep thought. “Keir, what is it, man?”
“Nothing. Past mistakes haunting me.” Even that much of an admission forced Keir to look away. How could he tell his friends the truth?
“You protected me and Jancie against Adara. I owe you one now.”
“Thanks, but I have to do this alone.”
Rowe lifted his fedora and rubbed his forehead. “Okay. But if you need me or Logan or the girls, just ask. We’ll have your back.” Though Rowe voiced his acceptance, he remained where he leaned, eyes burning into Keir as if trying to detect more—luckily, none of his friends possessed mind-reading magic.
The sound of car tires crunching over the gravel driveway ended the inspection. Keir and Rowe moved outside where Aggie’s old, emerald-green Nash sedan sputtered to a stop.
Jancie stepped from the passenger side and announced, “Rowe, Logan told me to have you either call him or report to the Council office right away. He left you a message on your cell.”
“Thanks. I left it in the car.” Rowe hustled to his own vehicle and she joined him.
The interruption let Keir escape Rowe’s scrutiny, but now Aggie’s car blocked him in the garage, unable to pursue the real confrontation. He yelled, “I’m on my way out. Could you move your car?” With luck, the girls had come to find Rowe and would soon leave.
Aggie smiled his way and approached. “Oh, before you go, can I ask you something? Logan and I just retraced the crime scene and found something. Is this yours?” She rummaged in her purse and withdrew a black leather glove that looked like one of his.
He dug into his jacket pockets and located the mate, along with Adara’s crinkled note.
“Thanks.” He accepted the damp glove. “I must’ve dropped it when I was there a few minutes ago.”
“I spotted it in a patch of ice near the great willow. Strange thing—when I picked it up, there was a single white windflower in bloom underneath. Didn’t see any others. Did you learn anything new?”
“Uh.” He stared at the glove, marveling that Unole had remained there after he left—how her essence had discovered his lost item. “Yes, I guess I did.”
She looked at him with expectant eyes.
“It’s kind of hard to explain.”
“Try me. Maybe it’ll help me find Waapake.”
“Um, it’s a long story. I do know where he is, and I was on my way out to see if I can get him.” He checked on the likelihood of avoiding Rowe and found him huddled close in conversation with Jancie. They were both looking his way, then averted their gazes the moment Keir’s eyes met theirs.
“Fantastic,” Aggie yelped and dug in her bag for the keys. “I think Rowe’s about to leave, and I’ll repark there.”
“You and Jancie will be staying?” Preoccupied, Keir had forgotten.
A small laugh escaped her lips, reminding him of Unole’s bell-like laughter. “Jancie told you she’d be back to cook dinner for everyone. We’re all so busy searching, it’ll give us a moment to catch up on news about Waapake.”
“That’s right. She did. I forgot. But I do appreciate it. I’ll let her in before I go.”
“I thought I’d help her, if that’s okay.”
“That’s great. Thank you.” He shifted the glove to his other hand and retrieved his keys. Brushing the leather released an odor. Not of musty tanned hide. Instead, it was delicate, white, and floral—jasmine, flowering tobacco, and other fragrant plants he remembered by sight, but couldn’t name, from the Cherokee reservation.
He walked Aggie to the back porch, and Jancie waved goodbye to Rowe as she caught up to them.
“Keir has to go somewhere now,” Aggie said to her. “I’ll move my car and be right back.”
Jancie nudged Keir’s shoulder. “Hey, I didn’t see you limping when you walked to the porch. That knee must be healing.”
Keir looked back at the cane he’d left propped against the trunk of his car; he hadn’t needed it, hadn’t felt any pain. He smiled. “I guess it is.”
“That’s great. But I’ll get your cane in case you end up needing it later.” She dashed to gather it and waited a moment to return with Aggie.
As Keir leaned in to unlock the house door, in the close space, again he detected the scent on the returned glove. Compelled, he lifted it to better experience the feminine fragrance of Unole’s essence.
“What is it?” Aggie asked, now behind him. “Fae magic?”
“No, not fae magic. I’ll explain later when I’m not in a hurry.”
“Maybe a good story to share during dinner.” Jancie stepped into the mudroom, wasting no time removing her coat and heading toward the kitchen.
Keir hung in the doorway, conflicted. He fingered the burning note inside his pocket, forearm muscles taut. Yet like a persistent honey bee after nectar, a whisper in his ear reminded him to outwit Adara with a powerful sense of calm—Unole’s message, her own gentle strength—rather than with the rage boiling within him.
Aggie twisted her lips to one side and touched his arm. “Maybe talking about what you learned will help you sort things out.”
Her past connection to Waapake and the coyote’s mother made Keir pause. He nodded and motioned for Aggie to enter.
She slipped out of her parka and proceeded to the kitchen. “I’ll make us some tea, then we’ll talk.”
He perched on a stool at the center prep table, while the pair maneuvered around the kitchen as if it was their own. The two New Wish witches possessed culinary magic few in the Hollow could match. They preferred his large country kitchen and sprawling home as a gathering place for their group of friends.
After a few minutes, Aggie set two steaming mugs near him and one beside Jancie, who had taken a spot over the opposite counter, while multiple knives chopped herbs under her magical guidance.
From her seat on a stool beside him, Aggie blew from her tea and took a sip. “Last night, I tried to appeal solely to the tip of my wand that is threaded with Waapake’s fur. I thought it might tell me something about him. The end vibrated a bit, but I couldn’t isolate its magic apart from the rest of the wand.”
“Interesting. I wondered how your wand reacted to his disappearance.”
“It operates fine, but that only tells me I’m tapping into Waapake’s heritage, not anything specific about him. I’ve never tried to use my wand to contact the sources of its three powers: the matriarch sycamore tree Nannan; my Gran; an ancestral coyote. This morning, I went into Nannan’s woods to ask her if that sort of communication was possible since she donates power to one of the tips. She told me to use the wand’s cumulative energy, from all three sources, to call upon Waapake’s direct ancestors. Gran’s energy inside the third tip might reveal something that can be pieced together with info given by the other two sources.”
Keir peered at Aggie through the steam rising from his mug. “Our matriarch sycamore might be onto something useful.”
“I’ll try after nightfall when powers transmit better.” She swiveled to face him. “Now tell me what you discovered near the great willow.”
Keir related how he’d connected to Unole through her wind song.
Rapt by the tale, Jancie hadn’t noticed one of her pots had boiled over, sparking and foaming like a cauldron potion. “Darn.” A flick of her fingers and the spill vanished. “Chuquilatague’s daughter has some fascinating magic. I can harness the south wind’s clouds to create weather at my desire, but communicating on the wind is difficult. I’m still new to witchcraft. Is her song skill rare?”
Aggie replied, “In New Wish, I know two elemental wind witches, sisters, who use it like a telephone between them but only inside our tiny valley and with each other. Nothing like what Unole did. Very cool.”
“Native Americans are keenly aware of spirits in the natural world,” Keir added. “As children, long before they realize they possess magic, they are taught to revere nature. I gained much more than shamanic skills while studying on the reservation.”
Aggie pointed to the returned glove resting on the counter. “That has Unole’s magic on it, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. Smell.” He passed it to her. “I don’t think it was an accident you found it and brought it back to me. It’s her way of reminding me how to best free Waapake.”
Aggie sniffed. “Mmm. White wildflowers. Jasmine, tuberose, flowering tobacco. Jancie, you’re the herbalist. What do you make of this?”
Jancie directed the stove, lowering all four burner flames, and grabbed the glove. Eyes closed, she appraised the scent. “You missed heliotrope and night phlox,” she said, then gave her analysis. “A masterful blend—gentle yet resolute, designed to not be overlooked.” She returned it to Keir and stood straighter, her jaw set, as if Unole’s magic affected her own will. “Rowe said you know Adara has Waapake. Is that true?”
Keir choked on a swallow of tea.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She leaned closer, face stern. “I’m not surprised after her appearance at the Yule party. Neither is Rowe. He said you wouldn’t let him help you retrieve Waapake or explain why not, so I won’t press.”
Keir let go of a shallow breath. “Thank you.”
“After what she did to my dad and what she planned for Rowe, she deserves the B-word many times over. Whatever happened between you and her in the past—well, it’s her fault, not yours. I can sense your rage. Its heat is oozing off of you—or boiling over, like that pot of potatoes.” She tipped her head toward the stove.
Aggie’s gaze briefly met Jancie’s before she addressed Keir. “With all that anger, do you think you can follow Unole’s advice—stay centered and not fly off?”
“I thought so.” He studied his hands. “But, well, Adara is the one holding Waapake captive—for ransom.”
“What the hell?” Jancie fisted a dish towel. “That woman has no limits.”
Aggie’s hand trembled as she set her mug down. “Is Waapake okay?’
Keir looked from one to the other. “I don’t know. She sent a note and said he was, but—”
“Her word means nothing,” Jancie spat.
Aggie reached across and freed the towel from her friend’s torment. “I’ve never met Adara, but by Jancie’s reaction, I think you need to get a better handle on what Unole is saying.”
“You’re right, and I would like to talk with Chuquilatague as well. But he’s old and can’t travel easily.” Keir studied his tea as if the golden brew could supply an answer. “Waapake’s in danger. Going to the reservation will take time I don’t have.”
Jancie swallowed hard, then after a pause, said, “I have a feeling Rowe can distract Adara for a while.”
He studied the lines of tension etched on her forehead. “Are you sure you want to make that offer, put him at risk again?”
“If it means teaching that woman a real lesson, stopping her from harming other, then yes, I am.” She forced a breath out through her nose. “I’m sure Rowe will agree.”
“I can’t endanger others.”
Jancie scoffed, “Try to convince Rowe or Logan of that once they learn the truth.”
“Maybe I can help so they don’t need to be involved,” Aggie mused. “Let’s see how Nannan’s directions work tonight to tell us more about Waapake’s situation.”
Under threat of an incoming storm, nightfall arrived early, pleasing Keir. He’d spent the past hour pacing the house and checking at the windows. In the kitchen, he announced, “Aggie, the gloaming hour has begun. Let’s try your wand.”
“Be right with you.” She finished setting the table and met him in the mudroom for their coats.
Holding the large messenger bag that always accompanied her, she followed him outside.
“I’m coming, too,” Jancie called before the door shut and, moments later, joined them at the apple tree.
As if a child had colored the western sky with crayons, broad swaths of pink and orange streaked behind the winter-bare tree line. Keir marveled at the intense hues, but closer inspection revealed a more impressive sight. Along his property line, upper branches of the forest trees were tangled with what appeared to be enchanted cobwebs. Glistening white filaments were bedazzled with frozen gems in all shades of amber. His breath caught when he spied the apple boughs draped with the same mystic garlands.
“Ooh,” Aggie cooed, her neck craned as she whirled, arms wide, beneath the tree.
He cupped one of the golden jewels, its light pulsing against his palm with obvious warmth. “Remarkable. I’ve never seen anything—”
“I wonder …” She removed the wand from her pack and revealed two of the three ends already activated. The glow, radiating from a large amber gem
stone fixed to one tip, bathed her face in soft, orange light. “Wow. Look at my Gran’s gem—and how Nannan’s tip is vibrating.”
Jancie came alongside, and a shiver shot through her. “You’re lucky to have the matriarch tree of Coon Hollow eager to share her magic with you.”
“Yep, I am.” Aggie glanced twice at her trembling friend, then wrapped an arm around her. “Where’s your coat, girl?”
“I have to hurry back inside and take the roast chicken out but didn’t want to miss anything; you do some cool stuff with that wand.”
“The spirits are already stirring.” Keir stared up at the light display. “Their magic’s putting on a good show.”
“Only the coyote part of my wand isn’t responding,” Aggie said in despair. “Not sure what to do about that.”
“Let me see if I can clear my head enough to journey, at least enough to trigger your connection.” He sat on the wrought-iron bench encircling the tree’s trunk. From there, the usual point of origin for his shamanic journeys, his mind should naturally drop into the soil and follow the tree’s roots to enter the Lower World. He stilled his thoughts and imagined the skim of ice under his feet. Intrusions of molecules other than water created spaces in the crystalline structure. Channeling ahead to the out-of-body journey, he focused on one such rift that would permit his passage to the softer, porous dirt beneath.
He pried into the crevice, his body shrinking as he traveled. However, something pushed back from the other side—hard. He rolled away, and a maggot spewed slime onto his face, its stench roiling through his stomach.
The larva’s cavernous mouth smacked closer as Keir inched backward.
He grappled to find a handhold along the ice and pull to safety. At last, his fingers gripped something substantial. He levered his weight, only to collapse a few feet away from the oozing predator when the hard mass broke free. A chalky shard remained clutched in his hand—a bone fragment riddled with pinholes, signs that decomposers had rotted the once-living remains.
Keir’s heart lurched. He’d entered the world of his mother’s coffin, fabricated by the nightmare spirit—Adara’s dark playground. She’d been the one challenging him in that mind game. Panic sucked air from his windpipe. He gasped, suffocating.
Witch's Windsong Page 7
