Not at all creepy.
I found ankle-length yoga pants and a long-sleeved black shirt in a drawer and ducked into my closet to change. A bright orange slogan across the front of the shirt meant I would have to wear it inside out. I considered adding my red leather gauntlets to the ensemble, but that seemed like overkill and the reflective metal charms might prove too flashy for night work.
My wand. Opening the closet door to Jasper’s bored look, I located the wand underneath his tail and glared. He toyed with the length of motley ribbons before biting into one and hopping to the floor, prize in tow. I tucked the length of crabapple wood into the waistband of my stretchy pants and glanced over the badges taken from my mother’s Witchling Way banner: an apple, a seal, and a bear. The night of my party, I’d worn two of the three. Tonight, the bear volunteered to be my ally. I reached behind my neck and pinned the flat, weighted circle to the back of my shirt.
Bear had shown up before, faintly, on two occasions. If this outing with Alabastair went sideways there was a chance Bear would show up.
“Ready?” I asked Jasper. He blinked, discarded the ribbon, and pattered out. I followed him again, this time to the living room, where he hopped into the basket of books and mending. “Reminding me about the cat carrier, eh?”
He licked a paw.
“Alabastair?” I said, sending my voice beyond the screen door’s minimal barrier. “When you said cat carrier, what did you mean? Would a basket work?”
He pressed his face to the newly replaced mesh. “Does it have a lid?”
“Nope.”
“This is an island. Surely you have one of those declassé boat bag contraptions?”
I did. Complete with a zipper across the top. “Great idea. C’mon Jasper, time to saddle up, kitty-cat.”
Jasper glared.
I was getting good at reading his expressions. “Would a snack help lift your mood?”
I unwrapped a power bar, added it to the canvas bag, zipped Jasper inside, and slipped one of my feet in its boot.
“Uh-uh. Barefoot, Calliope. You’re a capital-E Earth Witch, and it’s time to test those tootsies.”
“Al?”
He shuddered. “Please call me Bas.”
“Bas? Do you always talk like you’re auditioning for a show?”
“You’ll get used to it,” he said, grinning and holding both doors open.
Bas led our threesome to a spot adjacent to the old crabapple tree. I slowed my pace, tugged the wand out of my waistband, and palmed the thicker end of the smooth wood. The new stick had almost completely integrated the old one, and the filigree of branches glowed with a burnished, metallic hue. But there was no time to wonder at the transformation.
Alabastair turned his head side to side, searching the ground. “There should be portal stones here, and there are not. I can see I’m going to have to devote an inordinate amount of time to replenishing this poor tree.” Offering one arm, he turned his hand palm up and beckoned. “If you step close enough to touch me, we can travel together without the stones.”
My fingertips hovered over the thick tendon at the base of his wrist. His pale skin, with its greenish undertone, had the dulled lustre of old marble. I made contact with Bas, wary of a sudden reaction, and searched for his eyes in the shadows cast by the cape’s hood. One brief moment of hesitation, enough to register that I might want to rethink his invitation, maybe even get a second opinion, before Alabastair pulled me toward him.
Too late to leave a voicemail or a text, it occurred to me that no one besides Malvyn and perhaps Maritza knew where I was going. I gripped Bas’s wrist.
“I won’t bite.” He chuckled. “But do hold tight.”
Travelling through a portal was like being sucked through a huge tube while wearing a full-body blood pressure cuff. The trip lasted seconds before solid ground met my feet and the squeezing sensation released.
I gasped and wobbled in place, Alabastair at my side. A faint meow and the sound of hacking came from inside the canvas bag.
“Duck,” I said.
We had emerged in a far corner of the Flechette estate, somewhat hidden underneath the draping branches of a weeping cherry. The tree was one of four, if memory served, planted around a working fountain. A similar grouping of four trees and a fountain graced the opposite corner, one-quarter of a mile away.
In the center of this fountain was a scarily well-rendered likeness of a winged fairy caught by her ankle and anchored to a faux rock. Knowing what I did, I would bet good money the fairy was once a living being, now locked in place by Meribah’s misdeeds.
“We can see about freeing her later,” said Alabastair. “Right now, we need the cat.”
When I unzipped the bag, Jasper paused, hopped out, and switched into high alert. His tail straightened and lowered. He went into a half-crouch and emitted a low growl.
I beckoned Bas closer. I didn’t want our voices to carry. “The witch who left him at our house said Jasper’s attuned to sensing Fae magic. I’m not sure exactly what she meant, but my kids told me the cat can ameliorate the effects of Fae poisoning.”
Bas nodded. “You seem to have good rapport. What’s he saying?”
I had to stifle a snort. Reading Jasper’s body language was easy: Danger Ahead. “Exercise caution. That’s what I would say too. I was married to a man who grew up here,” I added. “And I hate this place.”
A cool, heavy hand patted my shoulder. “We all have our crosses to bear. Lucky you could drop yours and move on.” He sucked in his breath. “You said was married. I hope you’re implying you’re divorced now?”
“Gleefully divorced, Bas. And only recently discovered a lot of crappy things about him and his family, hence the reason behind why we’re here.” I stood, careful to not
