Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The witching hour, also charmingly called the devil's hour, is between three and four in the morning. It's known to be when supernatural forces—such as witches, demons, and ghosts—are believed to be at their strongest.
The belief might be rooted in folklore, but this period of "dead of night" is considered a time of heightened magical power when the barrier between the living and the dead is thinnest.
So, it stands to reason that's when Sebastian and I, the two spirit witches invested in stopping a major demon incursion, would attempt a mass cleansing.
"Do you really think this is going to work?" Asher leans close, checking over his shoulder to ensure our conversation is our own.
"It's the best idea we've come up with, and with Izzy’s new spell idea, yeah."
I press a hand against the cool stone surface of one of the Hallowind monolith standing stones. The incredible energy that runs through this place of power is enhanced even more by the ancestry of the Hallowind bloodlines running through my veins.
Using the power of the ley lines running beneath all of Emberwood is just the conduit we need to send our unbinding spell out to free the spirits and then break the hold of Tharuzel’s demon mark.
Or, at least, that’s our intention.
“All right, everyone. Let’s do this.” Sebastian claps his hands, and the members of the Life and Death Brigade end their side conversations and gather.
Orion turns from where he’s chatting with Reid, Eliza, and Declan, and jogs up the hill to join us. “They say good luck.”
I nod and give them a wave of thanks. “Hopefully, we won’t need it.”
“You won’t.” Asher side-hugs me as we walk to the center of the casting circle. “You guys have got this.”
I hope so.
“Take your places, everyone.” Sebastian gestures for us to make a circle, and when we’re in place, we all join hands.
Me, Wylder, Orion, Mica, Clara, Izzy, and Sebastian.
“Is everyone ready?” Sebastian asks. “First, we cast the unbinding spell to free any and all spirits being used to siphon people, then we break the bond of the sigil and cut Tharuzel off from the pool of negative emotions he’s draining. Good?”
Everyone around the circle nods.
“All right, then let’s get it done.”
I draw a deep breath and twist my neck to release the tension taking root. The little pops of vertebrae repositioning feel good, but don’t really help with the anxiety—
“Wait! Wait for me!”
We all turn to find Rowan breaking through the trees at the bottom of the hill, her arms waving in the air as wildly as her ebony hair and burgundy streaks. “I’m coming. Wait for me!”
I’m moving before I think, closing the distance to the edge of the clearing. When she crests the hill to join us at the standing stones, I pull her into a hug.
She laughs, squeezing me as Asher wraps his arms around both of us. “Aw, guys, did you miss me?”
“Obviously.” I pull away, searching her face. “Are you really back? Can you stay?”
She shrugs, but her eyes sparkle with defiance. “My parents know people who attended the meeting of the Arcane Order. They said you gave a full testimony in the Axiom Throne and everything Laurel has been spouting off is bullshit. Which is what I’d been telling them all along.”
“Wow, okay, yeah. I’m glad people are figuring that out.”
“They are, and I used it to my advantage, telling them I was part of something amazing here and they were crushing me by not letting me be a part of what you’re doing here.”
“Crushing you?” Asher snorts. “I like the melodrama-to-guilt ratio on that.”
Rowan grins at him. “I thought you might. Anyway, the lockdown has been lifted and I’m back, baby!”
Asher whoops, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Yeah, you are.”
I hug her again, sure that this has to be a good omen.
“All right, let’s get you up to speed and get this ritual underway. We’ve got spirits to free and demons to banish. And now we have our cursecraft sister here to help.”
Rowan pumps her fist in the air. “Yeah, baby. Let’s do this.”
Once Rowan is clear on the plan, has been given the two spells, and understands how we’re connecting with the ley lines to use the standing stones to amplify our intentions, we join hands again and are ready to get our groove on.
“Poppy, if you will.”
With Sebastian’s prompt, I connect with the magic of the stones and call forth the energy we’ll need.
The ancestral magic responds in a powerful rush.
The earth beneath our feet trembles, ancient magic surging upward through stone and soil. I widen my stance and ground myself as power floods my system.
The stones hum, their runes igniting with pale blue light that pulses in rhythm with my heartbeat.
"Focus, everyone." Sebastian's voice cuts through the rising song of stones. "Anchor to the circle, follow Poppy’s connection to the ensnared spirits, and push your intentions out to Emberwood. Step one: release the ghosts from the tethers holding them."
Wylder's earth magic spreads like roots, weaving through the ground beneath us, connecting each of us to the closest stone. I feel the moment it latches onto me—solid, immovable, steadying the chaotic rush of spirit energy buzzing through me.
Rowan's shadows pour from her hands, twisting into the air like living smoke. They spiral upward, weaving between the stones, disappearing into the darkness beyond.
“Okay, Izzy, start us off,” Sebastian says.
Izzy’s affinity is animal magic, and is therefore a gifted healer, but she also has a true love of spellcraft. She came up with what we hope is a spell powerful enough to affect everyone marked within Tharuzel’s hold. "By bone and blood, by name and deed—"
We all join her, our voices uniting in purpose. "We sever what binds, we break what feeds."
Orion's shift ripples across his skin—not a transformation, but enough to let his predator instincts bleed through. His eyes flash silver, his claws extending from his fingertips as he raises his hands. "By claw and fang, by frost and flame—"
"We free the dead, and end your claim."
The eight of us speak as one now, our voices harmonizing behind our words. The connection Sebastian and I possess with the spirit realm guides the ebbing waves of Izzy’s spell.
Magic crashes against my ribs from the inside.
Spirit energy coils through my veins, white-hot and volatile. I reach for those greasy ropes tethering the spirits of the dead to citizens scattered all across Emberwood.
I feel them like pinpricks of infection in my mind. Dozens of them. Each one seething in agony as their tether binds them to an innocent person to feed Tharuzel's hunger.
The air tastes like copper and ash.
I fight not to gag and press forward. The stones surge with amplified power, and I brace myself to stabilize it. Energy rushes through me, and I direct it outward—a sweeping wave meant to shatter every cursed mark at once.
"By will and word, by light and right—"
In my mind's eye, I envision how the tethers broke when I freed Mr. Peterson and then Margaret across the road.
"We cast you out, we end this blight!"
The magic strikes.
I feel it slam into the ropes tethering the ghosts and how the spirits recoil, shrieking soundlessly as their bindings snap.
It doesn’t happen one at a time. It’s all of them at once, our combined power ripping through Tharuzel's network like wildfire. I feel the spirits scream as they're torn free, followed right after by the silence left behind when they’re gone.
Hope flares in my chest.
"It's working. The ghosts are—"
Something changes in an instant, and pain explodes in my skull, white-hot and vicious. My knees buckle, and I hit the ground hard enough for me to lose track of what’s happening. My hands grip the dirt as the magic of the stones turns on itself.
The ley line energy doesn't stop—it reverses—sucking back through me like a riptide.
"Poppy!" Asher's shout is distant, muffled.
I can't answer. Can't breathe.
The taste of char floods my mouth, thick and choking. Tharuzel's presence slams into my consciousness. He's there, on the other side of my connection to the sigils, and he's pulling. You’ve been a naughty girl, Poppy Hallowind.
His voice scrapes across my mind like claws on glass.
If you wanted my attention, you needed only to call.
"No—" I try to sever the connection, but it's too late. My mental jewelry box has been flung wide open, and he’s in my mind, vast and powerful.
The standing stones erupt.
Light detonates outward—not the pale blue of my spirit magic channeling through my family stones, but a dark, sickly crimson. The runes carved into the stones twist, corrupting the wards of my ancestors.
It’s akin to what Sebastian does when he opens a portal, but this is darker, the magic foul.
The air inside the circle turns fetid as shadows pour from the spaces between worlds, spilling out of the stones like oil.
Well, shit. “Incoming!”
Demons. Dozens of them. They are monstrous twisted things with too many limbs and mouths that open wrong, all with their mindless focus locked on us.
"Defensive positions!" Wylder roars.
Tharuzel’s hellborn minions burst into the clearing, craning their necks at odd angles, emitting clicking noises that fill the air.
“What’s with all the backup, hellspawn?” Asher asks. “Are you compensating? Afraid of a fair fight?”
Wylder scoffs. “Would you mind not antagonizing the demon death squad?”
A guttural roar brings Orion, Declan, and Eliza into the fight in their white tiger forms. The three are snarling and launching themselves at a cluster of demons.
Claws tear through flesh. Fangs crush bone.
Orion says the Carmichael gift stands out, even among the coolest of the shifter clans. Seeing them like this, there’s no argument.
“You’re so freaking hot, boyfriend.” Asher grins, leveling his compound bow at his closest target. “I, for one, like our odds.”
Wylder pegs him with an arched brow, but whatever response he’s about to make is lost as the fight breaks out.