Chapter 20
Chapter
Twenty
Full of pizza and beer, I dug my bare toes into the carpet and stretched. Ash and Tess lay tangled together on the couch, the dryad trailing a lazy finger through Tess’s hair. Moira sat cross legged on the lounge chair, and I’d chosen the loveseat because it had a cup holder.
And I was currently on my fourth glass of wine, mentally applauding my foresight because the others had to shift position or, gasp, sit up to reach their booze, and all I had to do was pick it up and shift it a few inches to my mouth.
Music played through the Bluetooth speakers, one of Moira’s numerous playlists, this one with hours of mixed genre music. We needed tonight, the chance to get together and take a load off for a little while.
The seed’s shadow hung over us, no one wanting to broach tonight’s peace. But we needed to talk about it. Whatever this was felt big. A portent of doom hung over our heads. Overdramatic? Six months ago, I would have said yes. Now? Everything felt like a portent of doom these days.
“Got any dessert?” Moira said.
Ash snorted. “I’m convinced your stomach and the Mary Poppins purse are related.”
Moira patted her flat stomach. “It is bigger on the inside.”
“You’re lucky it’s not bigger on the outside,” Ash said, laughing when Moira tossed a napkin at him.
He shifted Tess and sat up. “Thanks for this evening. It’s been far too long since we’ve all hung out like this.”
“We see each other every day,” Tess said. “But that’s work. This is…friendship.” She blinked owlishly. “It’s nice.”
I made a mental note to gather everyone at the house at least once a month in the future. “Then we’ll do it more often,” I vowed.
“I’ll bring the wine!” Moira grinned and reached for her glass.
“Snacks are on us,” Ash said, winking at Tess.
“Oooh, you’re officially an ‘us’ now?” Moira teased.
The dryad tugged Tess closer. “Official,” he confirmed.
“Yay!” I lurched from my seat, swayed, and reached for Ash and Tess, dragging them into a sloppy hug.
Moira snickered. “Oh yeah. I’m definitely bringing the wine next time.” She uncurled herself from the chair and plopped beside me, throwing her arms over us.
We sat hugging each other for a while until Ash groaned and waved us away. “Let’s put the wine down and chat.”
“No,” Moira whined. “Let’s keep drinking and order sundaes.”
I raised my index finger in the air. “Seconded!”
Ash rolled his eyes. “Next time we won’t have such a serious thing to talk about. But tonight, we must discuss your finding.”
“Not mine.” I jerked a thumb over my shoulder to the flytrap gnawing on my hair. “Hannah uncovered it. She sensed something there and went straight to it.”
The flytrap had proven adept at getting herself from point a to point b, and I didn’t always see her move. Nor did I hear her either, but when I did, the thump, thump, thump of her pot was easily identifiable. It was when I didn’t hear her, and she suddenly appeared somewhere that made me nervous.
“She’s an extension of your magic,” Ash said quietly, eyes intent on the plant. “I believe you might have eventually sensed the same, but your attention has been divided. For months now.”
I grimaced. “True. Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. It is what it is. You don’t commune with your land as deeply as you used to, not all of it.”
I glanced at him sharply. “How do you know that?”
“I sense it.”
At my freaked-out look, he laughed. “Your land is content and healthy. No need to worry there. What I’m saying is the land is hungrier than normal, and you might have sensed the seed sooner if you communed as often as you used to.”
“You are really good at making me feel guilty,” I muttered, even as I knew he was right.
I communed with my land as often as I could, but I still felt its yearning.
Part of me felt like I might sully my property with my Chimera magic—a foolish thought, but shaking it proved more difficult than expected.
Magic was magic was magic as Ash so often reminded me.
It wasn’t the power itself, only the wielder.
Finn was evil in a way, but he’d also shown up to warn us about Rhona’s presence.
Probably to save his own ass, but by extension, he was saving ours, so I guess that would be a good deed. The jury was still out.
“You’re an excellent steward of the land,” Ash said. “It will always hunger for your presence no matter how often you feed the property. I’m only saying the seed appeared when it needed to. Perhaps it would not have appeared to your senses sooner. I’m merely speculating.”
Moira leaned forward. “Tell us why you’re being so cagey about this seed.”
“And where it is,” I added, promising myself I’d do better when it came to my Floromancy. I had some ideas about that, thoughts brewing in the back of my mind after I’d woken up to my greenhouse in chaos.
Ash was right about the magic, as he was right about most things, and I needed to siphon off my power more often now that the Chimera was rearing its ugly head more often.
Ash shifted, his eyes glowing emerald. “You may want to shield your eyes.”
“Absolutely not,” Moira said. “We’ve never seen you do what I think you’re about to do!”
I shook my head. “Blind away, tree boy.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Ash’s chest exploded in brilliant, verdant light, searing my eyeballs. Lifting his left hand, he reached inside the opening in his heart and pulled out a pearlescent, perfectly round seed.
“Holy shit,” Moira breathed. “You stuck it in your heart?”
“Bad ass,” Tess murmured.
“It’s connected to your heart tree.” As a dryad, Ash had a special connection to his main tree and had to return periodically to refresh his physical and emotional health, boosting his magic each time he went.
Its location remained a tightly held secret, and none of us asked.
If Ash’s tree were damaged, the dryad would sustain the same pain. If the tree died…
None of us would ever ask its location because we loved Ash, and we wouldn’t risk a slip up or being used against him.
But to be able to store something inside of what was essentially a magical storage chest that doubled as a teleporter was so cool.
I didn’t have a heart tree or anything of the sort, but I could hide something so deep in the heart of the earth even a mole couldn’t find it.
Not exactly the same as pulling something from my freaking heart, but pretty cool, nonetheless.
The seed lay on Ash’s palm, glowing but inert. We all leaned forward and peered down.
“What does it do?” Tess asked.
Ash’s expression sobered. “This tiny seed has the potential to end the world.”
I sucked in a breath. “What?”
Moira gave him a considering look. “It’s not like you to be dramatic, Ash.”
“I can’t be completely sure, but when your mother showed up, I had a good feeling I knew why she wanted this little guy.”
I had no idea why she wanted it. All I knew was if she sought it, I wouldn’t give it to her.
“The tree to the other worlds must be dying,” Ash said. “If this seed has arrived, it foretells the death of the world tree.”
A long moment dragged on as I stared at him in stark disbelief. Everyone was aware of the world tree in a roundabout way. The tree represented interconnectedness and held the doorways to the other realms. If the world tree died, it would shut the other gods away, trapping them in their realms.
No wonder Cliona wanted the seed.
I held my palm out. “May I?”
Ash tipped the seed into my hand.
My breath caught and held. The seed shimmered as I rolled it around my palm, the amount of magic inside its shell staggering.
I brought both hands together, closer to my lips.
“Evie—” Ash warned.
Closing my eyes, I sent a frisson of power out, seeking to connect, to understand.
Every plant in the house responded, a verdant scent of life growing throughout the room. Vines stretched and flowers bloomed, healthy dirt and greenery a sharp tang in my nose.
The seed pulsed with a royal blue light, peaceful and calm. Vines crawled over the ceiling and the couch, seeking to connect with its power.
“What do you want from me?” I whispered.
An astonishing amount of natural magic flared through the room. Familiar power.
“Gird your loins,” I murmured.
The king of the fae appeared in the room, his presence larger than life.
Cernunnos was massive, well over six feet.
His hair was the soft color of doeskin, cascading past his shoulders and twisted with moss and several varieties of mushrooms. The fae king’s eyes glowed with ancient power, his irises swirling with gold and silver sparks.
Even though I’d known he wasn’t of this world by his physical appearance, it was the antlers, twisted with moss and greenery, drops of dew on the tips, rising several feet above his head that marked his identity.
How he hadn’t torn a hole in my roof by his arrival was one of those unexplainable miracles.
Ash’s face paled. He went to his knees and bowed his head.
“Rise,” Cernunnos demanded. “My people do not supplicate or worship, dryad. You are a loyal steward of my lands, and I am proud to call you one of mine.”
Ash rose, his hands trembling. Moira and Tess had already stood. I still sat on the loveseat; the seed curled in my palms.
Cernunnos made his way over and sat down beside me. Ash and the others retook their seats.
The seed pulsed bright green before fading back into deep blue.
The king of the fae smiled. “You’ve chosen a loyal vessel.”
I blinked. “Are you speaking to me or the seed?”
He held his palm out. Wordless, I passed it over, the color switching from blue to emerald-green. “Does it change color based on who holds it?”
“The seed is sentient. It does what it wishes. But…in a way, I suppose it does. Your magic comes from different places. Mine has always belonged to the soil and skies.”
“What is it?” Moira asked, her eyes glued to Cernunnos’ antlers.
“This,” he announced, his voice rumbling like a summer thunderstorm, “is our beginning and our end.”
Cernunnos coaxed my plants to come closer, the fae king’s magic a brush of warmth over my shoulders. A soft hum of music floated through the air, and I smiled.
Tess gasped. “Is that—”
“The natural world,” Cernunnos said. “Plants and trees communicate via sound and vibration. Evangeline’s plants are tended with care and well-loved.”
One of my older pothos brushed against Cernunnos’ cheek, making the king chuckle. “And very curious.” He reached a tan finger up and brushed the underside of its leaves.
Several vines stopped inches away from the seed, the greenery vibrating in anticipation.
“Do they know what this is?” I asked.
“Oh yes. The seed is from the heart of the universe. Everything from the natural world will recognize what this is.”
Cernunnos’ attention lingered on the door. “You’re about to have a visitor.”
Two sharp knocks sounded.
“It’s creepy how you do that,” I muttered.
Cernunnos’s toothy grin made me laugh. Moira waved me away as I started to rise. “I’ll grab it.”
A moment later, Moira stepped away from the door.
Caelan walked in, and silence so thick you could cut it settled around the room.
“Don’t be rude, Evangeline,” Cernunnos said quietly when I stared at the Shifter Lord dumbly.
Nothing could extinguish Cernunnos’s raw power, but Caelan’s magic thundered through the room, his violent nature rearing its head as he spotted the Fae King next to me. A golden sheen rolled over Caelan’s eyes.
“Why are you still here?” I hissed to the fae king. “Don’t you disappear when things get weird?”
Amusement glimmered in his ancient eyes. “Your Lord needs to hear this as much as your friends do.”
Caelan’s gaze dropped to the king’s cupped palm. His eyes narrowed. “What are you holding?”
“A nuclear bomb,” Cernunnos said, a toothy smile crossing his handsome face.
Caelan came closer. A soft thumping sound came from behind before Hannah leapt from the back of the couch, straight at the Shifter Lord.
A soft oof, and Caelan caught Hannah’s pot, cradling the flytrap against his chest. “Well, hello there.”
“I meant to text you, but the day got away from me. “
“She has a brand-new pot, so her journey worked out, I suppose.” Caelan walked to the kitchen table and pulled a chair away, carrying it over to the living room. “When I saw the shop closed, I figured I’d head here.”
Hannah waved her traps around.
“She’s happy to see you.” I frowned. “Hannah is much happier than Seymour was when he was young.”
Caelan’s gaze rose to me. “Hannah?”
“Evie named her after Hannibal Lecter.” Moira grinned.
Caelan’s laughter was deep and genuine. “Little cannibal.” His voice held genuine affection.
Cernunnos gently clearing his throat made us all still.
“Sorry,” I hissed. “But look at how cute Hannah is.”
“She’s very cute,” Cernunnos confirmed. “But let’s get back to the nuke I’m holding.”
Caelan set Hannah down. “You’re holding a seed. I’m supposed to believe that thing holds enough power to destroy us?”
“Your power belongs to the animal kingdom, Lord.” His lips curved up. “And elsewhere, doesn’t it?” Cernunnos tipped the seed back into my hand. “I know you sense the magic, but your kind can never feel its innate power.”
“If I can’t sense the power, how am I supposed to assist?”
Another enigmatic smile. “You are here to assist Evangeline.”
My attention snapped to Cernunnos’s face. “Excuse me?”
The fae king rose, moss swinging from his antlers. “No one is safe while your mother searches for the seed. You must keep it safe.”
A sudden, horrific thought occurred to me. “She doesn’t want to plant this, does she?”
Cernunnos’s eyes flashed. “Your mother is no Floromancer. The seed came to the one being who holds the power to nurture and care for the power. Evangeline, you’ve been entrusted as a steward to hold the power of the gods.”
“No pressure,” Moira muttered.
I kept my pulse as steady as I could with that earth-shattering comment. “You said something earlier about being a vessel. What do you mean?”
Golden magic shimmered around the fae king. “When the time is right, you will know what to do. In the meantime, keep our power safe.”
Caelan shook his head. “Aren’t you the best steward? You’re the fae king.”
Cernunnos’s form began to shimmer. “It hasn’t chosen me, Lord. Even if I took the seed from Evie, it would come back to her sooner rather than later.” His ancient gaze fell on me once more. “Trust only those in this room, Evangeline.”
He winked. “Even your Shifter Lord.”
A second later, he was gone.
No one said a word for a long moment.
Caelan shifted. “So…I guess I’m a member of the club now?”