The audacity of my actions caught Meribah off guard, and when the apple tree at her back wrapped a branch around her waist, hauled her off the ground, and flung her to the side, I laughed.
I ran to my ex-mother-in-law, kneeled on her legs, and pulled her arms up in the air.
Ivy bind. Knock yourself out.
Vines, forest green, punctuated with glistening black thorns, slithered across the dried grass and wound around Meribah’s wrists, drawing more blood. Jessamyne and the silver wolf were behind me. Maritza had disappeared. I stood, grabbed the loop an invasive had left at Meribah’s crossed wrists, and hauled her across what was left of the distance between me and the underland.
“I’m not exactly sure what this place does,” I said, “but we’re going in and only one of us is coming out.”
I dragged Meribah toward the arbor and veered to the left. The entrance was shrouded with long, wide strips of faded and assorted black fabrics. Maritza’s signature stitching held each seam together.
“Maritza?” I called. “You in there?”
I recognized the bright blue nail polish and the arm that followed.
“Come in,” she said, drawing aside one curtain, “and bring your friend.” She stuck her head out, spotted the silver wolf and the Apple Witch, and tapped me on the shoulder. “Those friends too. Someone wants to meet you.”
I hauled Meribah across the threshold of the underland. Small breaks in the impermeable arch of blackened grapevines allowed for patches of the starry sky to show. Light from a hidden source bathed Maritza and not much else beyond her.
“Don’t let her escape,” I said, handing Maritza the vine. “I’ll be right back.”
Tanner was bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for breath, and naked. Jessamyne had discarded the Apple Witch for her human form, complete with the cleavage-enhancing dress, and I was not in the mood. I walked over to where she was ogling Tanner while wiping blood off the side of his belly with the end of her sleeve.
“You. Jessamyne. I have something to say,” I said.
She kept her back to me.
Tanner’s eyes were transitioning from wolf to man—at least, that was my assumption. Because if the fiery glow had anything to do with Jessamyne’s proximity, he and I were done, our earlier encounter notwithstanding.
After yesterday’s activities, in my bed and in the bathtub, I felt like I could have any boyfriend in the Magical realm that I damn well desired.
Tanner pushed Jessamyne to the side. “Calliope?”
The only Magical I really wanted strode toward me, muscles flexing. He slid his fingers through my hair, lifted my mouth to his, and claimed me.
“What do you want?” I asked, when he finally let go of my mouth.
“We need to talk. But first, we have to face Ni’eve. C’mon.” He found my hand, interlaced his fingers through mine, and tried to bring me to the curtained entrance.
“Um, I need her too.” I tugged him toward Jessamyne, who was threatening to break into a run in the opposite direction. “No, you don’t,” I said, letting a bear-like growl underline my words as I grabbed the back of her dress. “You’re coming too.”
Tanner pulled aside the curtain, and I marched Jessamyne ahead of me, never loosening my grip. Entering the underland the second time, I expected the same murky interior, not the round table, draped in gold cloth and set for high tea, nor the ornate, oversized birdcage. Meribah was bound and gagged inside. Her restraints bore signs of Maritza’s touch.
A woman stepped forward from the darkness. Garbed in a simple, ankle-length robe, decorated with patches and whorls of gold and other metals, she could have been a model for Gustav Klimt. Her voluminous black hair was gathered up and away from her face. I had no idea of her age. She felt old, older than Crone, maybe even older than Dark Mother. Her unlined face said otherwise.
“Calli,” said Tanner, “I would like you to meet my teacher, Ni’eve du Blanc, Head of the Keepers and Clan du Blanc. Ni’eve, Calliope Jones.”
Ni’eve stepped forward. I switched my hold on Jessamyne’s dress and reached for the druidess’s offered hand.
“I am very glad to meet you,” I said, “and if you don’t do something about your daughter, I will.” I gave the ancient’s hand a gentle squeeze, stepped back, and shoved Jessamyne between us.
I could hear Tanner swallow. I didn’t care. Ni’eve’s forceful sigh, weighted by their mother and daughter interplay, brushed by Jessamyne, collapsing her at her feet. By the time the sigh reached me, it contained enough residual oomph to lift errant hairs away from my forehead.
Ni’eve set her jaw and lifted her chin. “Your friends, the caretakers of this orchard, are not well enough to make the trip here, to their home. I promise you they will be returned, with escorts, as soon as they have been deemed healed to the fullest extent of our capacities.”
Maritza stood, stepped away from the elegantly appointed table, and reached into the darkness behind her. Her arm disappeared then reappeared, her hand clasping the hand of yet another woman.
This one was shorter. A burnished metal crown of copper leaves and blood-colored stones circled a wild, blond mane that tumbled to the ground.
“You are Calliope Jones?” she asked, her full lips revealing neat, pale ivory teeth.
“I am. And you are…”
“Idunn,” she answered, stepping closer. “And I believe you have my apples.”
Chapter 25
Tanner slid calloused fingers under my chin and gave me a nudge, the only indication my mouth might be hanging open. Knowing me, I had been gawking at the Norse goddess for an impolite amount of time. I clenched my teeth.
“So?” Idunn’s uplifted gaze danced with delight as she extended her arm, palm up and fingers spread. “Let’s have it.”
I shook my head, stumbled into Tanner’s naked body, and mumbled something inane
