Chapter Thirty-Five #2
Austin narrowly avoided a clawed finger from nicking his foot.
He jerked up a step quickly, missing his chance to say anything.
Hyacinth chewed on her lower lip as she turned from him.
They traveled up the steps in relative silence except for Sabine’s clicking.
By the time he got to the door, Austin thought he might collapse to the floor.
He pushed all the way out into the hall and made it to the running carpet before his knees sank to the floor.
“Oh! Austin! Hyacinth! I was just about to bring you two breakfast.” The sweet sound of Agatha filled the air and cleansed it of the tension.
Austin smiled up at the banshee as she floated down to the carpet beside him.
Snuffles appeared out of the wisps of her dress and bound up into Hyacinth’s arms. “Don’t let him lie to you, Hyacinth, I’ve already fed him a whole chicken.
Had Kevin pluck it and chuck it into a bowl just for him. ”
“Thank you,” Hyacinth chuckled as she slid down the wall next to Austin’s head.
Despite the tension in the stairwell, she didn’t stop him from shifting to put his head in her lap.
Agatha put a plate on his chest, but Austin was stuck staring at her dagger-like fingers.
Even incorporeal, it looked like she’d run them ragged, with dents and bruises and scrapes all over her hazy hands.
“Aggie, what were you doing?” He furrowed his brow.
Agatha huffed, taking her hands back sharply. “You know I sew aggressively when I’m stressed.”
“Why are you stressed?” Hyacinth mumbled through a mouthful of chopped steak and mashed potatoes.
“Well, two of my favorite people were hurt and I couldn’t do anything to help them.
And the house has been in a tizzy; the storms coming in and out have been heinous.
For once I’d like to not have a thunderstorm!
Plus, how could I not be stressed when this house is constantly destroying fabric.
Ripping dresses in half, popping buttons off frocks, torn seams—this house is a nightmare!
No one in it has any restraint when it comes to fabric.
But we’ll see how everyone likes it when you’re all reduced to wearing potato sacks around the house. Potato sacks for everyone!”
Austin blinked rapidly, staring up at his red-eyed, frayed-haired, floating ghost of a best friend.
Agatha took a moment to seethe. Breathing heavily as her eyes illuminated the whole hall in ruby lights.
Then Hyacinth reached across Austin to hand the seamstress foaming at the mouth an apple slice from their plate.
Agatha cooled steadily, eventually taking the slice and offering Austin’s flower a thankful smile.
“Sorry, Aggie. I’ll talk to Lord Rosemont and Smith about being more respectful of the clothes.” He put a hand on her knee and patted the air around it affectionately.
“You’re such a sweetie, Austin,” Agatha chuckled. “I am fine. Really. I like making new clothes. I like stitching up the sides of pants because Smith caught it on a doorway or when Havershum accidentally stabs a coat rack thinking it’s something else. I do. I just…”
Austin took her free hand in his and wove their fingers together.
Her red eyes glanced up from her lap, the sadness filling her whole face.
The words that came from her after that were rattled, wet even as he saw ghostly tears form in her eyes.
“I just worried that maybe I’d never be able to make a suit with you again, Austin. ”
“I’m so sorry for worrying you, Aggie,” he breathed, brushing the pad of his thumb around her spectral clawed hands.
“You worried more than just me, Austin.” She glanced back up the stairs at the third floor.
Austin didn’t need to look to know where her eyes went.
Lord Rosemont. Austin had been so wrapped up in his sadness, in his despair, in his need to prove himself…
he almost proved he could be the shield too well.
“Is he regenerating?” Austin murmured. “I noticed he wasn’t with us when I woke up.”
“Lady Rosemont tucked him into his regeneration chamber earlier today. Smith went into the city, hoping to be able to plead Hyacinth’s case. Lord Blightwood sent us a letter while you were both healing, talking about how the tree they confiscated from the yard was acting strangely.”
“How strangely?” Hyacinth asked, popping more food in her mouth before encouraging Austin to eat.
He was less hungry than he thought. The relief of being upstairs, out in the free air where the others existed, helped him immensely.
However, he wouldn’t lie, popping some warm steak bites into his mouth did make his stomach happy.
He munched enthusiastically while Agatha tried to explain the scraped together information they had.
Apparently, the tree self-combusted inside the council courtyard, and about a hundred disembodied hands fell out of it.
Then, it went dormant, where previously it did a slew of strange things.
Between bleeding like sap dribbling out of a maple tap to releasing a horde of wasps, it did a lot of things that the Council had their hands full trying to explain.
Hyacinth’s face grew serious. “I wish I could go see it.”
“I honestly think it’s for best that you don’t,” Agatha sighed. “Greggory says grove witches draw power from their trees. The closer to the tree you are, the more powerful you may be, but that power is Sabine’s. Because that’s her tree. Not yours.”
“Hmm,” Hyacinth hummed, nodding along like she was thinking hard on something.
He watched her, throwing food into his mouth to clear off the plate, hoping she’d clue him into the puzzle.
But, when she sighed and shook her head, he knew she wasn’t ready to share with the class.
Her gaze dropped to him and her lips instantly curled into a warm smile.
It made his heart flutter. “You wouldn’t happen to be part tree, would you? ”
“Not currently,” Austin swallowed hard. “Was…was that sarcasm?”
Her eyes widened with delight. “Was it? Was I sarcastic just then?”
“I think you were.”
Hyacinth pumped her arms up and down in the air with a victorious hiss, “Yes!”
Agatha chortled. “You two are so delightfully strange. Alright, up with both of you. I was to drag you both upstairs and get you to bed for some more rest. Up-up-up!”
Austin licked his lips clean, letting Agatha float away with the dishes.
When he glanced at Hyacinth, she was watching Agatha’s retreating form for a faraway, puzzled expression.
She’s working on something up there. Hyacinth caught him staring and flipped right back to her usual perkiness. “Agatha would ask if you are ready?”
“Am I ready for the stairs? No,” he laughed, but climbed to his hands and knees regardless. “But yes, I am functioning.”
“Agreed,” she groaned.
Once he was back up on his feet, he offered her his arm. The pair climbed, one foot after the other, slow but steady, back to their room. Austin thankfully didn’t hear or see Sabine at all that time. But it was only a matter of time. They needed to exorcise her, and fast.