Chapter 7
Iwoke to someone slapping my face. Hard.
“Ow!”
“Wren! Gracias a la diosa!”
I opened my eyes to find Xiomara staring down at me with a panicked expression. There was a sheen of sweat on her face, and her eyes were bright with fear.
“Xiomara?”
“Yes, mija. Sit up. Sit up and drink some of this.”
I found I hadn’t the strength to sit up on my own, but Xiomara was already tugging at me.
She hoisted me into a sitting position against something hard and wooden, which I realized after a moment was the rocking chair she had been sitting in when we’d begun our scrying session.
Before I could get my bearings, she was shoving the rim of a ceramic mug against my lips, and I sputtered as the hot liquid sloshed into my mouth.
“What is… how did you… is that tea?” I gasped.
“Enough questions. Just drink.”
I blinked around. We were back in the garden of Shadowkeep.
All that had vanished—the breeze, the sound of the ocean, the hydrangea bushes and, of course, Xiomara herself—had all returned, so that my senses were momentarily overwhelmed at the rush of input.
I knew I wouldn’t get so much as a whiff of an answer to any question until I’d done as Xiomara asked, and so I let her pour more of the bitter tea into my mouth.
After a few swallows, I was grateful for it; the tea, whatever was in it, cleared away the confusion and made me feel steady and lucid again.
“Better?” Xiomara asked, with the air of someone who already knew the answer.
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Can you stand?”
“Yeah, I… ugh, no. Not yet,” I replied, as I tried to raise myself, and felt my head spin. “I think I still need a minute.”
Xiomara only grunted in reply, and held the cup out to me again. Obediently, I forced down several more swallows, and after a minute or so I felt steady enough to maneuver myself off the grass and into the rocking chair Xiomara had previously been occupying.
“What happened?” I asked. Had it been this cold when we’d begun? I was shuddering with chills.
“You stole my question, child,” Xiomara said. She was looking at me as though my face was a clump of tea leaves she was trying to read. “Tell me what you experienced, and I might be able to tell you what happened.”
I hesitated, playing for time. On the one hand, I wanted to understand. On the other, I didn’t want Xiomara to know about Jess and the book. Not yet, anyway. I settled on the truth—or, part of it, anyway.
“I looked into the birdbath and something moved, like a shadow. Then, suddenly I was in this sort of… emptiness.”
“Emptiness?”
It was just… nothing. Silent. No sky, no ground, nothing except me and the birdbath and…”
“And?”
“And Asteria. At least… I think it was her.”
“You’re not sure?” Xiomara pressed, scowling ferociously.
“She wasn’t facing me. It looked like her from the back. But when I saw her face she…” I swallowed hard, and suddenly I was fighting the urge to cry.
“Go on,” Xiomara urged, her voice much gentler than usual.
“Her face… it was just … gone. Like everything else that had disappeared. She had no features, just a smooth blankness.”
Xiomara tried to control her face, but I didn’t miss the spasm of horror that rippled over her features. She composed it almost at once. “I see. Go on.”
“Her voice sounded very far away, and she still seemed confused, like the last time we spoke to her. She told me the Source is in danger, and that we have to protect it, and…”
I swallowed hard against a lump in my throat. A tiny sound escaped me, something between a whimper and a sob, and Xiomara tightened her grip on my hand.
“You can tell me, mija. It’s all right.”
“That’s it though, I… don’t think it is all right. Asteria said that it was dark and ‘they’ were lost and that ‘all of us were trapped.’ But she was alone, Xiomara. So who’s ‘they’ and ‘us’?”
Xiomara did not answer right away. Her brow was furrowed in concentration as she mulled over what I had just said to her. Within her grip, my fingers were starting to go numb.
“Your grandmother is troubled, that much is clear. She is also disoriented—something has happened that has confused and frightened her. She ought to know you, mija, but it seems she doesn’t even know herself.”
“But why?”
“I cannot say. I wish I could.”
“Who is it she’s trapped with?” I asked. “Is she talking about us? Is this a warning, like we’ve all been trapped somehow?”
“I do not think so. Remember child, your grandmother is not of this living world anymore. She is no longer a part of ‘we’ here on this plane.”
A realization clicked into place. “Your spirit guides… you haven’t been able to reach them.”
“No.”
“Do you think… when she says ‘we’… could she be talking about other spirits?”
“I cannot say for sure. But I think it is a very real possibility.”
“What about the Source? Why did she say it was in danger?”
Xiomara pressed her lips together contemplatively. “It seems to me that she could be speaking of the dangers we already know.”
“You mean the Kildare coven?”
“I do. You said Asteria was with you that day, under the Playhouse. She spoke to you, even warned you in a crucial moment. Is that right?”
“Yes,” I confirmed. It had been Asteria’s voice that had kept me calm in those moments, that had encouraged me not to give in to Veronica’s demands.
“And she displayed none of the confusion she seems wrapped in now, is that so?”
“Yes.”
“Then it is possible she is still reliving that moment. Spirits can become confused and disoriented, reliving memories and moments from their past. Asteria might be stuck in a sort of loop of that moment when Veronica was a direct threat to the Source. Or perhaps she worries about the lingering threat, since Veronica disappeared and we have yet to track her down.”
She sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to convince me that the threat was nothing new.
The problem was, I could already tell she didn’t believe it.
I looked into Xiomara’s eyes, and I saw my own confusion and fear and unanswered questions staring right back at me.
That reflection frightened me nearly as much as my encounter with Asteria, because I’d grown used to the idea that the older witches in my life would have the answers I couldn’t find.
I didn’t think there was anything about the world of spirits that Xiomara couldn’t explain.
The fact that she looked almost as lost as I felt hit me like a physical blow.
“What should we do?” I finally asked.
The question seemed to snap Xiomara out of deep contemplation. She blinked, and then cleared her throat, attempting to resume her usual no-nonsense tone, but ruining the effect with the tremor in her voice.
“There is nothing more we can do in this garden. It is late, and your mother will surely wonder where you are.”
“That’s it? We’re just… letting it go?” I asked.
“Did I say that? Don’t you put words in my mouth, child,” Xiomara snapped. “I said there was nothing more we can do in this garden. There is, however, plenty that we can do, and we shall begin at once.”
Chastened, I nodded.
“I am going to consult with a relative of mine,” Xiomara said. “I need to know if there has ever been such silence at our boveda before, and if so, what came to pass in those moments.”
“And what about me?”
“You are going to go home and behave as though everything is normal. Do not mention what happened tonight.”
“I wasn’t planning on it,” I murmured. That was the last thing I needed, giving my mother another reason to worry. On the other hand, I was afraid I was going to lose track of the things I was hiding from people. “Are you going to tell anyone?”
“I must inform the Conclave, but I shall tell them the message came to me, not to you,” Xiomara said slowly, as though she was making the decision even as she spoke it.
“Why?” I asked. “Not that I’m complaining. I’d rather not face an interrogation from the rest of the Conclave. But why lie to them?”
Again, Xiomara hesitated, and I didn’t miss the fact that she didn’t quite meet my gaze as she replied, “I think it best if we leave you out of it, for the moment. They are… concerned about the presence of a new pentamaleficus in our midst. They worry that it bodes ill.”
“You mean they’re afraid of me, too?” I asked bitterly, unable to stop myself.
“No, child. They fear the past. We are not without our prejudices and biases, as you know. Our darkest hour here in the Cove was brought about at the hands of a pentamaleficus, and the Conclave sees it as their duty to ensure such trouble does not tear apart our community again. I don’t intend to give them any more reason to cloud their judgment by indulging their fear.
Now come along, before your mother and aunts start beating down my door looking for you. ”
I knew her words were meant to reassure me, but I felt far from reassured as Xiomara helped me to my feet, and led me out of the garden and back up the street to her house.
I burrowed deep into my own thoughts as we walked, repeating Asteria’s words over and over again, hoping some clue would reveal itself.
But no matter how many times I replayed the encounter, no sudden burst of understanding broke like the sun through clouds.
Asteria’s meaning remained opaque, a riddle with no discernible answer.
I stepped into the house just long enough to grab my bag and say a hurried goodbye to Eva.
“Are you okay?” she asked me, staring with the same razor-sharp gaze as her grandmother.
“Yeah, of course,” I said aloud, knowing Xiomara was standing behind me, watching the whole exchange. Sure she could not see my face, I mouthed, “Tomorrow.” Eva knew better than to react visibly.
“Okay, see you,” she replied in a pointed tone, the subtext of which was, “You’d better explain then.”
I nodded. It would have to be enough for tonight. I knew Eva wouldn’t let it go, so at least I had until tomorrow to decide exactly how much I wanted to tell her.