Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Close to Guerneville, Freddie had pulled off the main route, flicking on his high beams as the road narrowed through the forest. The smooth asphalt that wound through pine trees changed to a rougher street bordered by redwood trees as we got farther out of town.
“This pavement is low key trashed, bro.” Freddie growled as he swerved to miss another pothole.
“Are we there yet?” Ori giggled as we bumped and jostled to avoid holes.
“Almost,” I replied, squinting at the map on Freddie’s dash.
“Why would anyone want to live out here?” Freddie asked as he wrangled the car around more depressions in the pavement.
“Bud’s place is close to the compound of the intentional community where I grew up.
When Bud got enough cash, he bought acres of hilltop and planted a vineyard.
Back then, marijuana growing wasn’t legal, so when he met my mom, he was doing strain development on the hush-hush and growing underground.
Now he has greenhouses.” I slid sideways into Ori, and Ant mewed as her carrier jolted. Ranth turned, checking on us.
“Hey there, girl, almost there,” I soothed. “That’s it, next right,” I said, pointing. Freddie turned into the driveway where the towering, forged gate blocked our path. He put his window down to reach the security box.
“Code is #7412,” I said.
Rose chortled. “Is his name really Bud Leaf?”
I chuckled. “Yeah, that was my mom’s idea.
Usually new members of our community change their name.
It’s a flower or a plant and a tree, animal, or bird, but Bud and Leaf really nailed Bud and his true loves.
The night they decided to change his name, Mom and Bud were laughing so hard they were crying.
I was probably five,” I replied as the gates swung in.
We meandered through more trees and then around a ridge. The high fence kept out anyone with prying eyes, but the location was bordered on all sides by empty tracts of land. Otherwise, unless you were looking for it, you might not even know the house was there, which was exactly how Bud wanted it.
“Whoa, the house is incredible,” Ori said as the trees thinned.
The house had spotlights around the edges of the roof, and they turned on as Freddie stopped the car.
“Yeah, Bud’s like a pioneer in the industry.
His first house was a yurt, and then when he’d made a bunch of cash, he put together a prefabricated house designed by a Silicon Valley startup.
It’s solar and wind powered with a deep well.
There’s propane for the back-up generator.
Off-grid the way he likes it. Well, we do have some cell signal now. ”
Bud was out of the house by the time I extricated myself from the back seat, his mouse-brown hair pulled back in a ponytail bobbing with every step. I cradled Ant’s carrier in my arms. She seemed fine, but I was still freaked out by almost losing her.
“Sorrel! Are you all right?” Bud asked, appraising Ori, Rose, Freddie, and Ranth.
“Yeah. I think I said I was bringing friends. Hope that’s cool?
” I shaded my eyes against the blinding lights.
The tang of woodsmoke scented the sharp chill of the evening air.
I realized he must be thinking about male-female stuff.
Bud was kind of old school that way, which made absolutely no sense.
At the intentional community, sex was casual and safe with consent, and we were all adults.
“Uh, yeah. Sure. Hi there.” Bud raised a hand in a wave of acknowledgement. His hemp shirt was a shade off his pants and was the color of the Castelvetrano olives my mother had adored. She’d said leafy greens brought out the flecks of gold in Bud’s eyes.
“Bud, meet Freddie, and Ranth, and Rose.”
“Uncle Bud, so good to see you,” Ori said, rushing to Bud with outstretched arms.
Bud hugged her back, then opened his arms to me. Keeping Ant’s carrier steady, I hugged him, the pot and patchouli mix that was Bud flooding me with good memories and reminding me that for the foreseeable future, Bud’s home was my home.
Bud’s arms were iron bands, but the tightness was protective and sweet. He whispered into my hair, “I’m sorry about the house. But it doesn’t matter. You are all that matters.”
That bit into me. I clung to him for a second longer than was comfortable for any of us, but I was taking what I needed, where I needed it.
My mom’s words echoed in my head. Be true. Ranth had said that to me in the graveyard. My grandmother’s view was that coincidences should be treated with interest and respect.
Bud greeted Ranth and Rose and Freddie. Ranth and Freddie were about a head taller than Bud.
Bud’s fatherly once-over was adorable. He cared so much about me.
He lingered with each handshake, looking up into their eyes.
Both Ranth and Freddie were firm and unfazed.
I smiled as we walked into the house, and Bud nodded his approval to me.
Bud turned and opened his arms wide. “Welcome to Villa Fumo. I’m making pizza in the new kitchen, so I hope you’re hungry.”
“This place is amazing,” Freddie whispered as we entered the main room with its soaring ceiling and warmth from the radiant heated floors.
Woodsmoke and crushed basil sent pangs of hunger loose in my stomach.
Bud had built out one side of the modern-chic kitchen last fall, adding an Italian pizza oven.
“What do you all like on pizza?” I asked, setting Ant’s carrier down.
I unzipped the door, and she leaped out and slunk off.
Bud’s house was familiar to her, but he didn’t let her go outside because there were too many natural predators.
I stripped my jacket off and settled on the back of a chair.
Exhaustion settled into me like the plague, and I used the counter to remain standing.
“Bud, got any salad mix?” I asked as Ori rubbed my shoulders.
“Sure thing. Micro greens or full leaf?” Bud replied, tugging open the cavernous fridge.
I was going to say, “Both,” but…
Pop.
A portal opened in the living room. Ranth and I exchanged horrified glances.
“What’s wrong?” Ori asked as I scrambled to my messenger. I dropped the emergency pack on the floor twice before I got the maca root out. There wasn’t enough rose-blessed jaggery to go around. I froze.
“You move to a plane, and I’ll protect them.” I nodded and shoved the maca into my mouth.
The room grayed out. Two Essifers spilled out of the portal that burned open by the pizza oven; I took the window, Ranth hit the sink for water, and everyone else ducked behind the island.
The wall and floor around the Essifers blurred with pinkish-purple smoke and pink goo.
Great. Both the Fire and Brimstone types.
The little pink Brimstone Essifers spotted me first—exactly what I was hoping for. I sprinted to the living room and put my back to the window.
The first Essifer was faster than I was, and he was next to me by the time I was in position.
I pulled what I could from the root and balled up my waning energy, ready to blast at him as he opened his unhinged jaw, and the third leg probed the air.
The second Essifer had hung back, and the first Essifer’s pink smoke stole my conscious thought at about the same time the second one attacked me.
I was on the planar floor, looking up at the smoking jaws.
There was no more energy to pull out of the maca, and my reserve was so low I couldn’t find my core.
I looked around wildly as its jaw dripped pinkish ichor across my torso.
I couldn’t fight with normal magic. I spit the maca out.
My hand closed around the wood from the pile near the stove.
I glanced over at the kitchen. Ranth was taking care of my friends, but it rested on me to save Bud’s house.
Without more maca, I couldn’t plane walk—or could I?
Gripping the log, I turned my attention to the Fire Essifer while imagining the sweetness of the maca.
The blur of transition was breath-stealing.
By shielding my chest with the wood, the Essifer bit into it instead of me.
I cheated the shift, riding the oak’s stored earth instead of maca.
Risky, but I was out of time. Pulling from the wood, I blasted silvery purple balls at the first Essifer, which exploded violently in a purple-tinged pink goo.
Earth power coursed brownly through my veins.
I slammed the rest of the oak energy into the second Brimstone Essifer, which dissipated in a shower of pink sparkles.
Ranth had gone planar and now stood behind where the last Essifer had been, looking at me with judging eyes.
“You are going to regret that,” he said.
I tossed the log to the side. “I regret nothing,” I replied as we dropped into the reality of Bud’s living room.
“If there’d been a third one, you’d have been soul-struck,” Ranth whispered as he helped me up from the floor.
I brushed off his hand. “What does that even mean?”
“Your soul would be marked. Five touches. One more and the earth would leave its mark. It will become part of you.”
I glared at him, not wanting him to be right or know more than I did. But he obviously did. “I’m not sure how you even know that, but it doesn’t matter. I had to do what it took to keep us all safe.”
“I can see your marks, and these are not choices to be made on a whim. There are sacrifices that have to be considered before you make them. You need to think on this kind of life step.”
“Preach much?” I snapped.
“Hey, where’d you go?” Ori asked, coming up behind Ranth.
“Uh, I was showing Ranth the view.” I nodded to the dark alcove where Bud kept his smoking chair. It had the best valley view, and at night, you could see stars until forever.
Ori’s mouth twitched, but she let it go.
She leaned into me, studying the landscape.
“Bud made you a salad, and the first pizza is in. What do you want on yours?” Ori asked.
Bud held up a blue Heath Ceramics bowl brimming with greens as I entered the kitchen, and my mouth watered.
I took a step forward, and the back of a chair saved me from a face-plant.
Ranth was behind me, supporting me. I wasn’t excited about it, but I let him wrap his arm around me. Getting energy was my prime directive.
I ate my salad. Every crunch broke cell barriers, sending green energy coursing through my mouth.
If greens were basically earth magic, then they couldn’t be bad.
Besides, I didn’t feel that different. Maybe I’d been taken in by old tales and warnings, and Ranth didn’t know what he was talking about.
“Feeling better?” Ranth asked.
“Yeah, but we need to fix the house wards so that doesn’t happen again.”
“I’ll do it,” he replied, his mouth full of pizza.
“I’ll get the stuff together,” I said, not protesting. He was faster, and he’d already shown me how to do them. I gathered herbs from Bud’s pantry, having a hard time shaking the flash of what the lich-Ranth would look like eating. How did I feel about lich-form? It was still Ranth, but…
“You okay?” Ori asked, sticking her head into the pantry.
I tucked loose strands of hair behind an ear. “Yep, a bit tired but still alive. The kitchen threshold apparently is outside the old ward line. Rookie mistake. I need some basics to alter the house ward,” I replied, digging through what Bud had on his shelves.
“Can I help?” she asked.
I handed her a big bag of cinnamon sticks and another of dried lemon peel.
She gathered them to her chest. “Are we making mulled cider?”
“It’s a ward to protect the new kitchen.” I laughed. The levity felt good, as if pending doom was further away.
We set the ingredients on the counter, and I handed Ranth a massive ceramic mixing bowl.
Salt and herbs combined, we were ready to build.
“The wards on Bud’s house are outside,” I said quietly to Ranth.
“Good. I’d like to talk to you alone, anyway,” Ranth whispered with unspoken promises.
A fizz of anticipation swept through me as I chewed a mouthful of micro kale. I called over to Bud and my friends who were clustered around the pizza oven. “We’re going for a walk.”