“When moments like that occur during a Blood Ceremony or even during one of the lesser ceremonies, Calliope, our policy is to let it unfurl without interference,” said L’Runa, lifting a lightweight shawl out of her capacious bag and handing it to Rose. “Much as one would, say, when watching an outdoor theater production or musical performance. One cannot always control the weather or the actions of the local inhabitants while the show is going on.”
“But,” Rose interjected, “we had to ask Tanner for help once the sun rose and you emerged from the tree.”
“I remember some of that,” I said. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
“We’re glad to see you alive and well on this side of your ceremony, Calliope. It’s the best of all possible outcomes.”
My conversation with the two witches left me pondering what the not-so-best of all possible outcomes might have looked like. I shook off the thought, found an empty chair in a cluster of round tables, and let myself be surrounded by well-wishing family and new friends.
Stifling a yawn from the lack of sleep, I took stock of the party. Harper, Leilani, Thatcher, and Sallie had spread a blanket at the far end of the property and were on their backs, pointing up at stars, and seemingly deep in conversation. Nearer to the house, other clusters of partiers had me calculating how much longer I should stay before it was acceptable to gracefully usher myself off to bed.
Where I would gracefully await the dark-haired druid standing with his back to me, in lively conversation with his trio of druidic cohorts. Watching Tanner could easily become a favorite pastime, and a rush up my spine confirmed my crush was real.
Enough mooning. I was chilly. Rubbing my full belly, the feeling of fullness extending into my heart, I excused myself and went into the house to find a sweater.
The moment I planted my foot on the strip of lawn between the house and the driveway, I knew something was different. The ground was askew in a way that was simply wrong. Though the surface of the lawn looked smooth, my feet couldn’t find purchase, and my gut clenched in reaction to a presence I could not see. Lack of hysteria in the remaining partygoers pointed away from the possibility of a mild earthquake.
I whirled to my right then left. Underneath where I stood, an undulating presence extended its long-fingered reach, and each of those fingers created fissures in the thick underlayer of fine, intertwined roots.
Did no one else feel what was happening? The teens were still on their blanket. Rowan was head-to-head with Wes, the reds of their hair a coppery glow in the light cast from a nearby torch.
Nearer to the house, River and Rose were with Clifford and Abigail, gathering sweaters, jackets, and purses while continuing their conversation. At another table, Mal, James, Kaz, and Belle were laughing. Tanner was walking toward them, a bowl of cookies from the dessert table balanced in his hand.
I pinched the fabric of my flowy dress so I wouldn’t flash anyone and scooted back up the stairs, darted through the house to my bedroom, and went to grab my wand.
Which was now becoming one with its twelve-inch replacement. Tiny branchlets clutched the old stick to the new. I picked up the conjoined pieces, thinking I could separate them like bamboo chopsticks, but the branchlets and leaf buds were having none of it.
“Okay, okay, I get it,” I whispered.
I peeled off my dress, rolled myself into a sports bra, and wedged the conjoined wands between my breasts.
Wands. Gauntlets.
What I wouldn’t give for an instruction manual.
I slipped the gold hoops out of my earlobes, pulled on a pair of clean jeans and a T-shirt, and affixed the bear and the apple to the top of my T-shirt and called myself ready.
No one looked at me when I skidded to a stop at the top of the porch stairs, locked and loaded for the cosplay part of the evening. But when Tanner and the other druids turned as one and faced the road as the wards ringing the house snapped to life, most everyone else came to their feet on high alert.
“Calliope,” Tanner barked, waving me toward him.
“Something’s coming,” I said, shoving my arms with the unlaced gauntlets at him. “Is it the Apple Witch? If it is, there’s something very different about her approach. And she hasn’t said anything.”
He closed his eyes as he laced me up and shook his head as he answered. “If she’s here, she’s being very restrained.” He pointed toward the road and the trees and bushes to either side of the entrance to the driveway. “Company’s coming from that direction, if the wards are any indication.”
Tree limbs and leaves glimmered with the now familiar flecks of emerald green lights, stronger to the North and East. With a bit of squinting, I could see dimmer lights flickering throughout the woods.
I took a couple of deliberate steps away from the house, thinking I had time to get a read of the underground, when a posse of silvery gray SUVs with tinted windows and extra antennas roared to a stop and blocked the entrance of my driveway. The tires skidded on gravel, and six high-beam headlights went dark at the same moment.
The driver’s side doors faced the road. As each one opened and the driver exited, more drama was added to the entire performance in the extra beats it took to reveal who, exactly, had arrived.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Meribah Flechette—Doug’s mother and my ex-mother-in-law and self-appointed judge
