Chapter Fifty-Nine
Lilith
Honeysuckle flavored the air with a honeyed sweetness long before they reached the clearing.
Lilith followed behind Aunt Jacqueline, careful not to trip over Dragon as he darted between her feet. “How do you know Jacinda
wasn’t in the house?”
“She never is within an hour after Sybil has been arrested,” Aunt Jacqueline answered matter-of-factly.
“You can see it all too?”
“See what?” Asher asked.
“Of course I can. Every daughter of the earth can see spells at work,” Aunt Jacqueline said. “We have to connect to Jacinda
through the clearing. It is the only way.”
“And who is Jacinda?” Asher’s voice strained with exasperation.
Lilith disregarded his question, too fixed on the importance of the task ahead. “You know how to reach her?”
“It’s not an easy enchantment, and there are…sacrifices.” Aunt Jacqueline strode toward the weeping birch trees, her little skunk trundling alongside her.
“Sacrifices?” Lilith stiffened.
“Spells that tear the seams of time are forbidden.”
“No.” Lilith gasped. “That means if you do this…”
Aunt Jacqueline paused and regarded Lilith. “I will lose my gifts, yes. Lilith, we are both bound to this linking charm. I
have spent my entire life preparing for this moment.”
Lilith shook her head. “You can’t… I can’t let you…”
“I am the descendant of the man who did this to your family.” Aunt Jacqueline lifted her head like a queen. “I absolutely
can and will.”
Asher looked between them. “So, you’re what…witches?”
“Daughters of the earth, as we were once called.” Aunt Jacqueline resumed walking. “But, yes, witches. Men stole that word
from us when they persecuted and killed women who held even a modicum of power. Only in recent years have we begun to take
back the word, to make it powerful. But women aren’t the only ones with the earth’s gifts…”
Asher slowed and Toby gazed up at him, snaggy underbite on full display.
Lilith gaped. “Do you mean…Asher too?”
“Oh, yes.” Aunt Jacqueline beamed proudly. “My nephew is of the earth as well. Males are not commonly chosen, and their powers
are a fraction of ours. But when they are born into the line and their souls are sensitive and open, the earth shares its
gifts.” She tossed a coy look over her shoulder. “Why do you think animals love you as much as they do?”
The sweep of birch trees rose before them and the mirth melted from Lilith’s mood, replaced at once by the weight of reality.
A delicate hand settled on Lilith’s shoulder, and she turned to find Aunt Jacqueline at her side. “You can do this.”
Lilith nodded.
Aunt Jacqueline gave Lilith a squeeze. “It’s dangerous.”
Lilith frowned. “Excuse me?”
“Nothing is without sacrifice, as I said.” Aunt Jacqueline dropped her hand and trudged through the bracken toward the curtain
of foliage. The scent of honeysuckle drew them like ambrosia. “Not only mine, but yours as well. Your power is strong enough
to survive it.” She hesitated. “I think.”
Then she ducked beneath the heavy branches and slipped into the darkness beyond.
Lilith shared a shocked look with Asher, her heart racing with a shot of adrenaline.
He took her hands, and something sparked between them, something warm, pleasant, and altogether too enticing.
The kind of enticing that could make her want to stand there forever on a moonlit night in the forest, gazing into his deep
blue eyes, forgetting the danger.
She wanted warmth, comfort.
He held her gaze. “You can do this.”
The way he looked at her reminded her of that night when they shared too much wine, when she thought he might kiss her. Her
heart skipped. He leaned toward her, his eyes closing.
“I can’t do this if you aren’t both here,” Aunt Jacqueline called out in a singsong voice from the other side of the tree
line. “Yes, Wimbleton, I know I’m too old to do this enchantment myself.”
Lilith opened her eyes and found Asher grinning at her like a kid caught doing something he shouldn’t.
“Aunt Jacqueline is killing your game,” Lilith murmured.
He gave a sheepish smile. “To be fair, I’m not sure I’ve ever had ‘game.’”
Regardless, Lilith appreciated the moment of levity in a situation with too much weight. She eased through the branches and emerged in the clearing. The moon was darker than the night before, as if someone had scooped a section away.
Aunt Jacqueline sat before a small campfire with Lord Wimbleton the third happily curled in her lap while she fiddled with
a bowl containing several items. Some Lilith recognized, like rosemary and thyme and…
“Is that elder wood?” Lilith asked, referring to the sticks.
Aunt Jacqueline nodded and patted the ground beside her. “Yes, an elder tree whose permission I requested.”
“Three times,” Asher mumbled almost to himself.
“Ah, you remembered.” Aunt Jacqueline’s smile was one of pride. “There’s more of the earth in you than you realize, my boy.”
Lilith sat beside the older woman, who indicated each item in the bowl. “We also have yarrow to lift the veil between our
worlds and selenite to prevent anything from blocking our entry. Elder wood and labradorite to help connect us to where we
need you to go. Rosemary for memory and recall, so you don’t forget where you came from. And thyme to ground you and call
you back.”
Dragon nestled against Lilith’s side as the firelight reflected something inside the bag hanging from Aunt Jacqueline’s shoulder.
Lilith frowned. “Is that a knife?”
Aunt Jacqueline indicated Asher sit between Lilith and herself, completing the circle around the fire, before answering. “Of
course it is. You can’t ask the earth for so much power and not be willing to offer something in return.”
“You are already sacrificing your gifts for this,” Lilith said softly. “Is that not enough?”
Aunt Jacqueline offered a gentle smile, one of acceptance at her own fate. “That is my sacrifice. You, my dear, require just
a bit of blood.”
“Do I need to offer blood too?” Asher asked.
Toby dropped his whole weight into Asher’s lap, and Asher’s breath came out in a grunt.
“I am leading the spell and Lilith is sliding back in time, which is why we must sacrifice,” Aunt Jacqueline replied. “You
are here only for your power. No sacrifice needed.”
“Sure, that makes sense,” Asher replied with a tone that suggested it made no sense at all.
Aunt Jacqueline ignored him and handed Lilith the knife. “Just enough to dribble onto the plants.”
“Dribble seems like a fair amount of blood,” Asher muttered.
Lilith accepted the knife, startled by its weight. By how solid the handle appeared against the transparency of her hands.
“Whatever it takes.” Flexing the fingers of her left hand outward, she positioned the blade over the heel of her palm.
“With intention,” Aunt Jacqueline said vehemently. “And make sure the blood catches the moonlight.”
Lilith took a deep breath and adjusted her position, so the moon bathed her left palm in silvery light.
Closing her eyes, she focused her thoughts.
Let me see Jacinda so I can tell her what I know, so Sybil may live. So, I may continue to exist.
The force of her longing sent a pang through her chest even as a prickling sensation warmed over her birthmark, echoing her
intent.
She pressed the blade to her skin, shocked how easily the razored edge slid into her flesh. Blood trickled out, landing pat, pat, pat against the herbs. The metallic scent mingled with honeysuckle into a macabre perfume. Lilith moved her injured hand, ensuring
every item in the bowl was sufficiently spattered with blood.
Aunt Jacqueline nodded and took the knife before handing Lilith antiseptic and gauze, a kind consideration given Lilith was still dripping everywhere.
While the old woman assembled the items in front of her, Lilith hastily wrapped her hand. The wound burned, the discomfort
pulsing in time with her heartbeat, like her birthmark, all throbbing to the same rhythm.
With a graceful swirl of her wrist, Aunt Jacqueline spoke in a low voice, the tone melodic as before. “Let the thread of time
unwind, to reveal what we must find. Return her once all is said and please ensure she is not dead.”
Lilith gaped at Aunt Jacqueline.
“Was that really necessary?” Asher asked dryly.
Aunt Jacqueline shrugged. “You don’t get what you don’t ask for.”
A white glow glinted in the bowl and blue flames licked over the herbs and stones, bathing the offering in a brilliance that
made Lilith squint. The pungent fragrance of herbs filled the air and motes of light danced up from the bowl.
Aunt Jacqueline held out her hands, which Lilith and Asher each took before clasping their own, completing the circle.
A flash of memories flickered through Lilith’s mind, ones that did not belong to her. Asher as a small boy, making his own
breakfast amid a deteriorating kitchen littered with empty bottles, a couple shouting in the background. Children laughing,
mocking. The frenzy of paint on canvas. A young woman who disappears…
Then there was a girl, Aunt Jacqueline, being told she was not good enough for the legacy of Brackenmere Manor.
These experiences tangled with Lilith’s own past, sending a spear of agony at her most painful memory.
Daddy’s death. When she’d used a bowl of water to scry in high school and saw his death in the mirrored surface.
The next day, he’d ignored her plea to go the hospital, instead meeting with a wealthy client as Mama pressed him to do.
According to Mama, if Lilith had never said he’d have a heart attack from all that foolish magic, he wouldn’t have been worried
all day. He wouldn’t have taxed his heart. He would have lived.
Memories of her heavy shame followed. She never opened herself to magic again. Not until that fateful day at Enchanted.
The memories continued to pour in, including when Asher had walked Lilith to her room, that lingering pause when he almost
kissed her. Lilith’s heartbeat fluttered. Another recollection, this time of only moments ago, her hands in the protection
of his, the yearning in his gaze.
“Oooh,” Aunt Jacqueline chirped.
Lilith grimaced.
“Focus,” Aunt Jacqueline said in seriousness. She closed her eyes and intoned, “Let the thread of time unwind, to reveal what
we must find. Return her once all is said, and please ensure she is not dead.”
“Seriously, please stop saying that,” Asher said irritably.
Aunt Jacqueline peeked an eye open, glaring at him, before closing the eye again and repeating the line a final third time.
Lilith likewise closed her eyes and opened her mind to the words, losing herself in the chant.
Nothing happened.
She clenched her teeth. Please let the charm work. Please let the charm work.
She could not afford for it not to.
Please let the—
All at once, the world spun around her, and her stomach plunged like a roller coaster drop.
She clenched her hands into fists and suddenly realized she was no longer holding on to Asher and Aunt Jacqueline. The air was cooler, the grass damp under her feet.
How was she standing?
A moment of fear ensnared her, and she blinked her eyes open. The moon overhead was larger now, a waxing gibbous moon rather
than the waning crescent she’d left behind.
“It’s you.”
Lilith turned to the sound of the voice and the birthmark on her arm thundered in time with her heartbeat.
Two women stood by the fire, and one of them was Jacinda.