Chapter Thirty-Nine
THIRTY-NINE
WHEN THE RAIN FINALLY STOPS, we sit on the back porch, the setting sun bursting orange pink across the sky. Around us the forest sings.
I rest my head against the back of the creaking rocking chair as Maureen speaks.
“I grew up thinking the Cardinals were a myth. A children’s story. But my elders told it as a prophecy, an omen for our people. They said that when the Origin first consumed our power and the hunters were born, the Daughter had a vision.
“An imbalance had been created. Magic stolen. Corrupted. An unnatural possession. Over time this disparity would grow as the hunters grew. And the thing about rightful magic is that when we, and those like us—those with pure gifts—die a natural death, our magic returns to that from which it came.
“But when magic is stolen from us via syphons or creatures that make unholy deals with the shadows, that magic cannot return. The stars and their ley lines cannot be fed, and without that power thrumming through the world, all that we are and all that we love will rot.
“This is what the Daughter saw: a shadow-eaten world. Death and destruction. That is, if the Cardinals fail to save us.
“Four witches, each the strongest of their elements, destined to right the imbalance before everything we’ve sacrificed, everything we’ve fought for, every bit of light in this world succumbs to the dark.”
“Okay…,” I say, pushing down the flashing memories of crimson cleaved with black and beady, watchful eyes.
My necklace, my cardinal sign, my burgeoning, long-lost magic… “You don’t think—I mean—I’m not… am I?”
Maureen considers me. “You’re wondering if you are one of the fated four?”
“Is that why Gigi gave me this?” I lift the necklace and turn it to her. “I knew it was the symbol for cardinal signs, but I didn’t know what she was trying to tell me.”
She nods. “It’s the mark of the Cardinal. A common symbol that we’ve adopted over time. Like a good luck charm. Something to remind us that we are one, and that one day the Cardinals will come, and this tiresome battle will finally be over.
“I wasn’t sure until I saw your display of power, and really, without power or a coven of my own, I can’t be the one to tell you definitively…
but yes, Harper.” Her eyes bounce between my own.
“If the stories are true, if war is really coming, I think you just might be the one we’ve been waiting for. ”
My stomach aches. I gulp, staring out into the rain-soaked forest.
It’s one thing to get magic. Another to be the first in a hundred years to do so.
But to be some… some prophecy?
I shake my head. “No, I don’t… I think I would know. I would feel it.”
She gives me a placating smile, like I’m in denial.
When the sun has fully set, Maureen walks me to the front door.
“So, what now? What am I supposed to do with all this information? The other night…” I can’t make the words come out in detail, not unless I want to hurl on her house shoes and ruin yet another one of her things.
“Someone tried to—to hurt me. They knew about my powers, but when I tried to fight back, I couldn’t.
It’s like my magic was buried too deep. Like it was broken.
They… they took something from me, I think. Some of my blood.”
Anger burns through her eyes. “Someone attacked you? I haven’t heard anything about the hunters being back. As far as I knew, they’ve been dormant in this area since our powers were lost.”
“Who were they?”
She shakes her head. “No one knows for certain. My grandmother said they wore cloaks and masks with long beaks and obsidian feathers. Rumor said it was the Biltmores, but their lineage ended a long time ago.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, blocking out the memory. “That’s—that’s what my attacker was wearing.”
Her eyes are hard. “Did you tell anyone about it? The school or the police?”
Another wave of guilt. “No.”
“Good,” she says, and I flinch.
She leans forward. “Harper, you are not a normal person anymore. Laws and rules are different for you. They have to be if you want to survive.
“There are very few people in this world that you can trust, and now that you have your magic… if you were attacked, it’s likely that someone has you marked. Someone wants to take your magic.”
I wonder now more than ever about the watchful ghosts.
If I am a Cardinal Witch, why would they let that happen to me?
Why didn’t the hunter kill me when they had the chance?
“Listen,” she says as she holds out her hands, “if you face them again, you must do whatever it takes to survive. And then you come find me. We’ll deal with it together.”
I pull her into a hug and speak into her hair. “I’m so sorry. About everything.” And I really do mean everything. The ceramic cats, the cussing, the mess. Gigi…
“Honestly, love, after a lifetime of never seeing the full breadth of the magic I knew was very much real, it was an honor—a terrifying honor—to see it in action. Like witnessing the truth of the past come to life.
“I never got over the fact that my earth magic would never come, but to know that you’re real, and you have the water… it’s an incredible relief.” She pulls back and holds my shoulders as she meets my eyes.
“Your grandmother loved you deeply, and I loved her just as much. My life will never be the same without her.” They are simple words, but she has tears in her eyes and pain etched across her face like the world’s most sorrowful poem.
“If it means I can keep these pieces of her, I will love you too. I’m just not ready to let go.”
There’s something unsaid swimming between her words, and I think for a moment that I may never know the details of the love they truly shared.
She pats me on the shoulder as we descend the stairs. “You don’t have to do this on your own, Harper. Not anymore.”
My ride back to campus is gloomy, the road twice as slick as it was on my way here. I zoom through puddles, not caring when the water splashes up my legs. Not really noticing the chill that sinks into me.
Halfway back is when I see them.
Cool-blue headlights piercing the growing dark. I glance behind me more than once. The car is moving slowly, too slowly. Almost like it’s trailing me. Sweat beads my forehead as I pump my legs faster.
As I come up to the park that splits the Village, I cut a tight right, jumping the short set of stairs that leads to walking trails, and the car speeds up, narrowly missing the tail end of my bike. I skid to a halt, slamming my hand against my chest as I try to calm my breathing and heart rate.
I can no longer deny that someone—or some thing—is out to get me. Each individual event: the dream, the message in the mirror, the hedge maze, and now this… someone wants me dead. Someone wants my magic. Someone knows my secret.
And yet, I’m not hindered by fear as I walk my bike back up the hill. Instead, I lift my chin in defiance as the monstrousness of the school taunts me in gothic, time-worn turrets and intricate iron wolves, cardinal signs etched crudely into the center of their eyes.
Are they a beacon? A warning? A calling?
Whatever it is, I’m going to answer it.
I am a completely different person than I was before I showed up on Maureen’s doorstep. I am part of an ancient magical bloodline.
I am a Zodiac Witch. I might even be a Cardinal.
I am powerful.
And I am not alone.