Chapter 45
Archer
When I step out of Calista’s portal, it is mid-morning. The birds are singing in the trees and the sun is warm against my skin. The lingering cold that held spring in its clutches is finally beginning to fade.
Everything seems okay. Normal even.
However, my magic is on high alert, and I knew I needed to find Renata now.
Standing outside her door, I swallow down my fear when Rowyn walks out. She bumps into my chest, dropping the full cup of tea at our feet.
“Oh,” she sighs. Once her eyes see my boots, she slowly looks up and lets out a quiet, surprised, “Oh.”
“Is she inside?” I ask, guiding her out of the way by her shoulders.
“She is, but—” she says and tries to catch my arm.
I’m already stepping inside, trying to make sense of whatever is happening in front of me.
My sister is sitting in the armchair with wide-eyes full of guilt.
They are so unfocused I know she isn’t really here.
Clover is wrapping a blanket around her shoulders, and Clementine is sitting on the bench, knees folded to her chest. She looks so small—so young—and my heart breaks a little, thinking about my youngest sister who is only a few years older than Clementine.
I couldn’t imagine her having to deal with the shit Clementine is.
It takes me a second to find Renata, not expecting her to be passed out on the ground.
She’s lying next to a table set up with three chairs and a ouija board. From the awkward angle of her body, it looks like she fell out of her chair and no one has moved her. Esme’s less than two feet from her, staring helplessly.
“What the fuck is going on?” I snarl. “How long has she been there?”
I step toward her, wondering what the hell happened in the few hours since I last saw her in our dreams.
“Archer, wait,” Rowyn calls and tries to catch me again.
I shake her off and step over the salt circle, dropping to my knees next to Renata. Wiping a hand down her forehead, a sigh of relief leaves my lips when her skin is warm and clammy. It’s probably a bit cooler than normal, but not so low I have to worry.
“How—” Esme asks, leaning forward on her knees now. “How did you do that?”
My scowl deepens, frustrated with all of them, and confused by their lack of help.
“We couldn’t get through the circle,” Esme answers when I give her a dirty look, and drop my attention back to Renata. “Sybil and I were with her—we talked to Petra. Kind of. When she was done, she was done.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Esme?” I demand and pull Renata’s limp body into my lap.
She quickly explains the events from the middle of the night.
Once she’s done recalling Petra’s memory, Sybil chimes in, surprising all of us.
“Petra was finished talking—it was so abrupt. She gave Renata the go-ahead to end the conversation, then broke it before we had the chance. It… It must have exerted too much energy because Renata fainted off the chair and we were thrown away from her.”
My eyes quickly move between them, taking in the large bruise on Esme’s arm and the small cut on my sister’s cheek.
“Fuck,” I grunt, feeling guilty. “Bil, are you okay? Esme?”
“We’re okay,” Esme promises, and Sybil nods from the armchair.
“We tried,” Rowyn says through tears. “We all tried to get to her, but the barrier was blocking us.”
“She hasn’t been alone for a second,” Esme says with conviction. “We could see she was breathing, but she barely moved.”
“Can you leave the circle?” Clementine whispers. It’s the first time she’s spoken since I got here.
“Let’s see,” I mutter and lift Renata’s limp body off the floor.
Her head lulls backward, and one of her arms hangs in front of me. Seeing her like this makes me nauseous. It’s like she’s dead, and I think about how she might be soon.
Both of us.
With a deep breath, I step over the line and wait. After a few seconds, nothing happens, and I take another. Fully out of the circle, warmth hits me like a brick wall. I didn’t realize how cold I was in there.
The warmth is like a balm to Renata’s soul. She takes a loud, gasping breath, before going limp in my arms again.
Laying her down on the bed, I quickly move her under the blankets and turn back to the other women.
“How long was she in there?” My voice comes out sharp, but I can’t shake the unease of seeing her body on the floor like that. Not until she wakes up and can assure me herself she’s fine.
Standing up, Sybil is the one who steps up to my anger. “About eight hours,” she answers regretfully. “It was my fault—I asked her to do it.”
“She knew better. All of you did,” I snap. “She told me just last night how bad her hallucinations have been getting. How often they have been happening since I left.”
Too frustrated to even think, I wipe my hands down my face and say, “We need to wait for her to wake up before we do anything. I’m going to see if I can find her.”
“Yeah, okay,” Rowyn agrees and nods. “That’s a good idea.”
With one final assessing look, my sister turns and leads the group out of the room.
She knows I’m angrier than I’m showing the group. Arguing and causing riffs between us won’t be helpful right now.
Renata is the only thing of importance right now.
When we’re alone, I strip down to my briefs and curl myself around her thin body, holding her close. Her skin is warming and less sticky than when I first found her. There’s a hint of pink touching her cheeks again.
I take a long moment to watch her like this before closing my eyes and letting the post-adrenaline exhaustion lull me to sleep.
To her.