48 Birdie #2
I hold my chin high. “A human who is now the only thing standing between your high priest and Death. A human who can infiltrate Howe’s dig site and slow him down, protecting the coven.
A human who can help save your ancestors from desecration.
You need me, Mercy. Jasper wants me here and I want to be here.
I want to help you. The only question now is . . . will you let me?”
A quiet moment stretches between us before Mercy finally nods. “Very well. I accept the will of the goddess. You have a strong heart, Birdie Rhodes. And I meant no offense by my question. You are no weaker to me for your lack of magic.”
I sigh with relief, tears stinging my eyes. “Thank you.”
She nods again, turning her attention back to Jasper. “On the phone, you said you had an urgent request to make of me.”
Jasper steps in. “Yeah, that’s why we’re here. It’s about Homewood. Howe asked Birdie to find something to help with his dig. He thinks you have it. He tasked her with getting it from you.”
Mercy turns slowly back to me, all good feelings from a moment ago suddenly evaporated. “You intended to rob me?”
“What—no,” I cry. “Mercy, never. I was going to ask you, that’s all. And if you told me no, I was never going to ask again.”
“And just what is this artifact Howe thinks I have?”
“A journal,” Jasper replies.
“Robert Dent’s journal,” I add. “Husband of Alice Dent.”
“And why would Howe think I have such a thing?”
“Because your father had photocopied pages of a journal in one of his desks at the newspaper,” I reply.
“Sometime after William’s death, the items must have been cleared away and never returned to you.
When the flooding happened this spring, a lot of boxes at The Bugle were moved to the archives.
That’s when Howe found the box of your father’s things.
The journal pages were in the box. Howe is convinced the journal is real.
But he needs to see the whole thing. He needs to corroborate that it really is the journal of Robert Dent, or the university will shut him down and he’ll lose his funding. ”
With a haughty sniff, she crosses her arms. “It sounds like the journal is better left undiscovered. If finding it will give him reason to keep digging—”
“We need it,” Jasper says over her. “The coven needs it, Mercy.”
“Why?”
“We believe he’s using the journal as evidence that the Sacred Five were interred somewhere up at Homewood,” he replies.
“If anything in the journal can help us find out where—if there’s any mention of the feud with Ludmilla?
Mercy, this witch is vicious and cunning.
We need all the help we can get. We need the journal.
So, I’m asking, as your high priest: Do you have it? ”
“It would be small,” I add, gesturing with my hands to show the dimensions. “The page I saw wasn’t larger than eight by five. Yellowing parchment. Tight, slanted script.”
After a moment, Mercy shakes her head. “No. I’m sorry, I don’t have it.”
I sigh, feeling deflated. I can practically taste Jasper’s disappointment.
“Not anymore,” Mercy adds.
We both perk up. Jasper steps in, taking her hand. “Where is it? Who did you give it to?”
“Who do you think?”
Jasper doesn’t miss a beat. “Ruby?”
Mercy nods. “After Father died, I cleared out a lot of the things from his office. It was just too painful. It felt like I was living with his ghost. He loved those old journals.”
“Were they all Robert Dent’s?” I ask.
She looks to me with a sad smile. “I don’t know. I didn’t inspect them closely. As I said, it was too painful. But they belong in the family . . . in the coven. So, I gave them to Ruby.”
Grabbing her hand with both of his, Jasper kisses it. “Thanks, Mercy. Thank you for telling us the truth.”
She narrows her eyes. “I would never lie to my high priest.”
The relief shows on his face. “You don’t want to move for a vote of no confidence? Pass the gavel to Frankie?”
Reaching out, she cups his cheek again. I see the love shining in her eyes. “You are my high priest, Jasper Prescott. Until the goddess seeks to call one of us home.”
Tipping his chin, he kisses her palm. “Thank you.”
She turns to me. “Step forward, Birdie.”
I cast a wary glance to Jasper, but he nods in reassurance. Pushing off the desk, I take the two small steps in this crowded office to face Mercy.
The older woman holds out her hand. “Take my hand.”
I place my hand in hers.
Lowering her voice, she chants in a singsong voice, “I offer thee, as gift and sign, a welcome blessed for sister mine.”
My stomach flips as I feel the rush of cold water wrap around our joined hands.
I gasp in surprise, but don’t pull away.
Looking down in awe, I watch as the water swirls in a tight ball, creeping over my wrist and wetting the sleeve of my cardigan.
As soon as it starts, it’s over, the water fading away.
Mercy drops my hand with a nod. It is a gift, a sign of her trust. She just showed me her magic. Mercy Bartlett is a water witch.
“Thank you,” I murmur, tears in my eyes.
“I hope you find what you’re looking for. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help.”
“You have helped,” Jasper assures her. “You set us on the right path.” He gestures to me, and I nod, following him out of the small office.
Mercy sees us to the back door, unlocking it so the alarm doesn’t sound. With a push of the door, it swings open to reveal Pickles. The cat mews softly, the sound garbled as he drops something from his mouth to the ground. It makes a soft tink like metal.
Jasper drops to his knees to retrieve the item. “Fuck.”
Instinctively, I know something is wrong.
He rises slowly to his feet, looking down at the item in his hand.
“What is it?”
He turns just enough, and I see it glinting between his thumb and forefinger. It’s a chunky gold signet ring with a round lapis lazuli stone.
“Daniel,” I say on a breath.
Jasper nods. “He left.”