Chapter Twenty-Nine
We made a quick stop at Owen’s cottage so he could change out of his Sunday shirt into something else—a collarless three-button henley.
No matter what he wore, he looked good. And I was noticing it far too much.
Back in the truck, he drove us toward the Crossroads. I gripped the potion vial in one hand. The Sun Disk sat heavy in my lap. It was fully dark now and my stomach was in knots.
When he parked, he reached into the glove box and pulled out a flashlight.
“You’re prepared,” I said.
“Always,” he replied, a brief smile cutting through the tension.
I started to reach for the door handle, but he stopped me with a hand on my arm.
“Piper—if anything goes wrong—”
“Nothing will,” I said, too quickly. It couldn’t. I wouldn’t allow it. I needed this to work.
He stared at me in the dim cab, his dove-gray eyes nothing but dark orbs in the shadows. His hand stayed on my arm like he didn’t trust the world not to steal me.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he said.
The words tugged at me. I reached up and cupped his smooth cheek. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”
I sounded far more confident than I felt.
He caught my fingers in his hand and kissed my fingertips.
“We do this together,” he said.
“Together,” I agreed.
“And if anything happens,” he murmured, low, “I’ll be there.”
I nodded.
Then he released me, and we climbed out into the night.
I clutched the Sun Disk and the potion and kept running the enchantment words through my head like a prayer I couldn’t afford to forget.
Owen clicked on his flashlight and led us through the trees.
The clearing opened ahead—and the sick hickory tree waited like a wounded giant.
The smell hit first.
Rot and sulfur and something worse—something wet and wrong.
“Oh,” I rasped, immediately regretting breathing. “That’s awful.”
“The tree is worse than we thought,” Owen said.
He swept the beam down to the base of the trunk.
Black gunk oozed from the roots, bubbling and gurgling like a wound that refused to scab over. A foul-smelling miasma lifted from it and drifted into the still, humid air. More bark had been carved away from the trunk, leaving pale wood exposed.
I checked my watch. Just before ten.
Then I looked up at the sky. Without city lights, the stars were sharp and bright. Madeline said the planetary alignment would be visible in the western sky at 10:47.
I could already see the brighter points gathering—planets beginning to stack themselves into a line like the universe was holding its breath.
“All right,” Owen said quietly. “You’ve got forty-seven minutes. Then it’s go time.”
I took a deep breath—which was a mistake because of the stench—and forced it out through my mouth.
“Should I place the Sun Disk now?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said. “Get it ready.”
I approached the bubbling ground, careful not to step in it, and certainly not to kneel in it. Owen’s beam slashed across the mess, searching.
“There,” he said, angling the light.
A narrow sliver of green clung near the base of the tree, like the earth was refusing to surrender completely.
I picked my way toward it. Owen stayed at my shoulder, close enough that I could feel him without looking.
“Place the Disk as close to the roots as you can,” he said.
“I’m not sure I can with all this muck,” I muttered.
I crouched, trying to find a stable spot. Owen lowered himself beside me, the white beam holding steady on the place he wanted.
I stretched my arm out, but it was out of reach.
“I can’t reach it.”
“Here—hold this.”
I traded him the Sun Disk for the flashlight and aimed the beam where he’d had it. Owen leaned forward to place the Disk—
—and the light flickered.
My gut clenched.
“Hold it steady,” he said.
“That wasn’t me,” I said, voice turning cold. “We’re not alone.”
A twig snapped.
Owen’s head came up at the same time the darkness shifted at the edge of the clearing—taller, denser—like a shadow deciding to become a body.
Garrat stepped into the beam. This guy was wearing out his welcome in my town.
His smile was slow and knowing.
“I’ve been waiting for you, pretty,” he said.
I shot to my feet. So did Owen, the Sun Disk still in his hand. He moved between me and Garrat without thinking.
I tightened my fist around the potion vial until my fingers cramped.
“Your ward wasn’t going to keep me bound forever, druid,” he purred.
“I’m here to send you back to wherever you came from, Garrat,” I said.
I was proud of how steady my voice sounded. It didn’t waver.
He tilted his head, amused. “You think so?”
“I know so.”
The flashlight carved harsh angles across his face, turning beauty into something terrifying. He frowned—lines etching into shadow like a warning.
And the ooze at the base of the tree bubbled faster.
Garrat was using his magic on it—I felt it deep inside me. Not just on the ooze. On me.
A pull tightened behind my ribs and dragged forward.
Compelling.
My body started to obey before my mind caught up. I took a step, and Owen’s arm snapped out, blocking me.
“Piper.” My name—sharp as a warning.
I blinked hard, trying to clear my head.
“She’s coming with me,” Garrat said. His voice was rough now. Harsh. Like nails on a chalkboard.
“No,” Owen said.
But I stepped forward anyway.
My foot landed at the edge of the bubbling goo, my shoe sinking into it with a wet, sickening sound.
“Piper,” Owen said again—tighter, more urgent.
“That’s right,” Garrat murmured. “You want to come with me.”
The pull was too strong. My throat tightened. My skin prickled. I couldn’t resist.
He held out his hand. I reached for it.
Owen slapped my hand down—hard enough to sting—then shoved me backward behind him.
I came back to my senses, realizing what I’d almost done.
“You’ll have to go through me,” Owen said.
His voice had changed—darker, dangerous, like something old had stepped forward.
I blinked, still gripping the flashlight in one hand and the potion vial in the other. “Owen?”
“Then I’ll go through you,” Garrat said.
He lifted one hand. Not a grand gesture. Barely an effort.
A force slammed into Owen.
He flew backward like he’d been yanked by an invisible rope. The Sun Disk spun from his hand, skittering across the ground.
Owen hit with a terrible thud—and for a heartbeat, he didn’t move.
“Owen!” I lurched toward him, panic punching through the compulsion.
“He can’t help you, pretty,” Garrat said, stepping closer. “Only I can.”
My feet locked.
My thoughts went fuzzy at the edges, like cotton stuffed into my skull.
“If you come with me,” he said, voice low and poisonous, “I can take you places you’ve only dreamed of. I can show you wonders. I can teach you magic.”
Warm fog spread through me—sweet and false.
I turned toward him, swaying like a flower toward the sun. Garrat stood in the middle of the bubbling ooze as if it couldn’t touch him, hands loose at his sides, patient.
Then he extended his hand again.
“Come, Piper. There’s someone you need to meet.”
Thunder cracked.
So loud the ground vibrated.
The sound punched straight through the fog. I jerked my head, startled back into my own body.
Owen was on one knee, one hand braced on the ground, the other flat to the earth like he was holding it down by sheer will. His face was thunder itself.
“She’s not going with you.”
I’d never heard him sound that ferocious.
Lightning streaked overhead, a jagged white scar across the sky.
“Get the Sun Disk, Piper!” Owen barked.
The ground vibrated again—and Garrat froze mid-step, teeth bared. Like Owen had pinned him to the earth.
I didn’t think. I moved.
I scurried to where the Sun Disk had fallen. I dropped the flashlight—I couldn’t afford to drop the vial—and snatched the Disk up with my free hand.
“Place it at the tree!” Owen said, voice still dark and dangerous.
Garrat strained, snarling, but he couldn’t move. Owen’s druid magic held him like a fist around his throat.
I clutched the Sun Disk in one hand and ran back to the sliver of green by the roots.
My shoes were already ruined, so I stepped into the oozing blackness and tried not to gag—or think about the smell—then dropped to my knees.
I stretched the Disk out and pressed it against the roots.
Instantly, it lit—gold blooming in a perfect circle, bright enough to paint the underside of the leaves.
I checked my watch.
Ten minutes to go.
Too much time between now and the planetary alignment. Too much time for Garrat to find a way out. Too much time for anything to go wrong.
I wasn’t sure what to do next.
In my hand, the vial warmed. I glanced down at it. The potion had started to… glow. I sucked in a breath.
“Uh…”
“Piper.” Garrat’s voice. I lifted my gaze to him. “Don’t you want to know what happened to your mother? Who killed her and why?”
I stared at him, my heart clawing its way to my throat.
“Y-yes.”
“Don’t listen to him, Piper!” Owen said. “He’s trying to trick you.”
“I have all the answers,” Garrat continued as if he hadn’t spoken. He lifted his hand toward me once again. “Come. And I will give them all to you.”
The compulsion was so strong, I almost reached for him.
“She will not.”
Owen. His voice was feral. His face still a mask of thunder.
I glanced his way. Saw the blood dripping from his nose. Whatever he was doing to keep Garrat away from me, it was hurting him. A pang of terror went through me.
I had to do something. To act. Instead of standing here frozen like a weak lamb.
In my hand, the potion continued go glow brighter.
What did that mean? Did the ritual want to begin early?
On impulse, I reached for the Sun Disk, my free hand landing on it. The second my fingers touched it, it pulsed bright gold. So bright, in fact, that Garrat flinched and shielded his eyes.
And when that pulse subsided, the black ooze started to abate. As if the Sun Disk had something to do with its retreat.
That gave me hope.
“You fool,” Garrat sneered. “You think you can defeat me?”
“Yes.” I lifted my head and met his terrifying gaze. “I can and I will.”