Taking a deep breath, Mike continued leading her to the greenhouse.
“MIKE.” ABELLA PUSHED the broken planks off of her and shook the debris off her body by flexing her wings. The front porch was a complete mess, and one of the support pillars was now off kilter, the roof above it bowing dangerously. Growling, Abella smacked the support with her tail, shoving it back in place. “Mike!”
“He’s not here.” Cecilia appeared. Her dress was stained, her blood sparkling in the sunlight. “I’ll look inside.”
“I’ll go up.” Abel pointed toward the sky.
Cecilia walked through the siding of the house and vanished from sight.
Abella jumped off the porch into the yard and tipped over dangerously. Her equilibrium was off, likely a result of the magical blast that had knocked her out. Shaking her head, her sensitive ears picked up shouting out back. With a powerful flap of her wings, she soared up. She circled as she rose, casting her eyes to the ground. The house had three turrets, each one reinforced with steel beams to support the weight of her body. The tallest of these was sufficient for her to regain her breath and see the whole property. The garage looked like a tornado had gone through it. Paper was scattered out of it in all directions. In the garden, a giant wall of ice surrounded the fountain. From inside it came the cries of her friends.
Abella didn’t bother with landing properly - instead, she crashed in the middle of the fountain, splashing cold water everywhere.
“Abella!” Naia hugged the gargoyle, squeezing her harder than she thought possible. “Get us out of here!”
Looking around, Abella noticed that Tink was out cold, tucked carefully into the small basin of the fountain. “On it.”
She charged the nearest wall of ice and crashed into it like a wrecking ball. From above, she had seen that the makeshift wall was nearly two feet thick, but stone was stronger than ice. She had soon knocked a hole in it. As she stepped out into the yard, she cracked her knuckles, ready for round two with the witch.
“Not inside,” Cecilia said, appearing from the second floor of the house and floating down.
“Are you sure?” Abella asked.
“No sign anybody has been through there.” Cecilia looked at Naia. “Any ideas?”
Naia contemplated the question, gazing off into the distance. “I think... I think I sense him toward the greenhouse.”
“Well then, let’s look.” Abella walked around the corner of the house, Cecilia close behind.
Suddenly the banshee stopped and knelt by the grass, touching the blades with her hand. “He’s been here.” Plucking a blade, Cecilia showed it to Abella. It was stained with blood.
“I’m going to kill her.” Abella fluttered her wings, her brow furrowed in anger. “I’m going to rip off her head and shove it up her ass.”
“I’ll keep her alive while you do it,” Cecilia offered. They moved with purpose, the greenhouse coming into view, the vines of the Mandragora draped all over the yard.
When they came near the greenhouse, the ground exploded around them, large figures of stone and earth rising around them. In the center of each one’s forehead was a single, gleaming gem. Abella folded her wings before her just in time to absorb the blow from the first one, which knocked her back. Cecilia tried to phase through another, but a casual swipe from a stony arm knocked the banshee aside, through the bushes and the house wall, and into the kitchen.
There were five of the figures, each one nearly ten feet tall. Abella stood, glaring at them as they moved in front of the greenhouse, taking up their posts.
Cecilia reappeared next to her.
“Rock golems,” Abella said, casting a glance at Cecilia. “Guarding the greenhouse. Mike is in there, all right. Can you just go through them?”
The banshee shook her head. “No. The gems in their head magically ward them. I can’t phase through them. Let’s regroup with the others, ‘cause we’re going to need a plan.”
“We’re coming, Mike!” Abella called, then turned and ran to the fountain.
MIKE COCKED HIS HEAD. Did he just hear his name?
“What is this place?” Sarah asked from behind him. They had stepped through the busted door, Mike taking great care to step over the vines. Sarah, seeing this, had done the same. Now they stood in the weird open space inside the greenhouse, the sky up above a gentle blue.
“The greenhouse. The others don’t come here, they think it’s just a big dirt pit.”
“A dirt pit?” Sarah looked doubtful.
“Well, um, in a manner of speaking.” Mike pointed at the large jungle. “When I asked, they thought the plants in here were dead. Lack of care and all. I guess Emily didn’t ever come in here either. Those vines that are all over the house are just huge, literal stink weeds. Touch them and poof! You’re covered in this sticky shit that smells like vomit.” Mike looked at the Mandragora vines. “Emily planted it to keep them out. That’s why it’s all over the house-nobody wants to even attempt to fix it.”
“Disgusting. Now show me where you put the grimoire.”
Grimoire. Mike had heard the word before. As he walked closer to the edge of the cliff, it came to him. “It’s more of a journal, really. There’s a cave out that way. I put it there to keep it from getting wet. This guy,” he gestured at the Mandragora, “is simply all over the place. I’ve never seen any animals here, and the plants don’t give
