Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“You did it!”
I hear Mica’s praise, but haven’t got it in me to respond.
Instead, I sag to brace my arms against one of the monoliths as the ancestral power settles. The crimson light is fully replaced by the pale blue of my energy signature.
And after the breach sealed with one clean, resonant crack that rolled across the clearing and faded into the treeline, the stones went quiet.
The demons that hadn't been torn apart or burned to black puddles simply stopped. They collapsed where they stood, their forms dissolving like smoke in rain until there was nothing left of them but the stench of sulfur and a scattering of dark stains in the grass.
Now, silence breaks over the hill, and I drop my head between my arms, dizzy and more than a little weak in the knees.
“Well done, Poppy.” Declan rests a hand on my shoulder. “Are you all right?”
I consider that. My arms are numb to the elbows. My legs are shaking hard enough that I’m about to faceplant, but aside from magical exertion, there’s nothing wrong with me.
Unlike my friends.
"Yeah, I’m fine.”
Straightening, I get my first glimpse of the aftermath. Declan is closest and is covered head to toe in black ichor and shades of green and purple goo.
Orion is just past him, bracing himself as Eliza snaps his broken arm back into line with where it should be. The crack of bone followed by his colorful commentary has me wincing.
The dark ebony of his hair makes the starkness of him going pale even more dramatic underneath the blood.
“Orion, you need the hospital, dude.”
He shakes his head, his lips pursed into a fine line. “I’ll be fine in a couple of hours. Let’s worry about everyone else. Where’s Asher?”
That’s a good question.
I straighten and take a couple of wonky steps before Sebastian catches me under the elbow. “Easy. Cleansing the stones and closing the door to Tharuzel’s hellscape was a major energy drain. Sit down before you fall down.”
“I can’t. People need help.”
The carnage spilled around us brings that point home.
Orion’s arm is broken. Declan’s got a tear across his thigh that’s soaking through his jeans. Sebastian’s still nursing the gash in his belly. I’m not sure what took Clara down, but Izzy’s still working on healing her.
My vision is swimming, but I can’t relax until I know everyone is okay. “We need a roll call. Where are Mica, Wylder, and Asher?”
Sebastian forces me to the side, sitting me on one of the standing stones that was knocked to the ground. “Mica and Wylder are dealing with the dead. They’re cleansing their remains so Wylder can open up the earth and get rid of what’s left of their bodies.”
“What about Asher? Orion, can you smell him?”
Orion wrinkles his nose. “This place is rank with demon stank. You don’t even want to know what that smells like.”
No, I don’t. It’s bad enough without heightened senses.
Orion pushes off from where he’s leaning. His first steps are sloppy, but he gains momentum as he goes. “I’ll find him. You take another minute to recover.”
I don’t want to recover—I want to know Asher is safe.
Eliza comes to stand in front of me, and I get the feeling it’s more to keep me from getting up than anything else. “So, did it work? Did you break the people free from the demon?”
“Partly.” I swallow, my mouth dry, the taste of char and demon funk acrid in my mouth. “The first part worked. The ghosts are free. Then, from what I’d guess, Tharuzel felt the disruption, tracked my energy back here, and the next thing you know, we’re ass-deep in demons.”
“But the spirits are free,” Sebastian says. “And that cuts Tharuzel’s energy draw in half.”
I cup my hands against my eyes, a killer headache taking root. “But the demon marks are still on the people of Emberwood."
"Half a win is still more than we had before you tried,” Eliza says.
I tilt sideways and push up to my feet. Yes, I’m wonky, but I need to see if Orion is having any luck finding Asher.
Izzy has finished healing Clara and has her sitting up at the base of the stone where she went down. “Sebastian, you’re up. Let me see how bad it is.”
Sebastian looks between Izzy and me, and I wave his concerns away. “I’m fine. Go get yourself put back together.”
With Sebastian now occupied, I give Eliza what I hope is a confident smile and fight to look steady as I step away.
There’s no scenario in which this fight ended, and Asher didn’t run to check on me and Orion.
Something is wrong.
And with each added moment I don’t know where he is or what’s happened, my world is crumbling a little more.
“Found him!” Orion shouts, somewhere below the clearing of the standing stones. “Izzy, I need you.”
I follow Orion’s voice and do the funhouse shuffle as quickly as I can to get there while the ground is heaving and waving beneath my feet.
Okay, so I might not be perfectly fine, but I don’t care.
Orion found Asher, and the first thing he did was call for our healer. That gives life to all my worst fears.
I crest the edge of the clearing and jog down the grassy slope toward the forest. Asher is on his side, curled in on himself, fifteen feet below the stones.
His shaggy blond hair is dark with soot, and his skin looks scorched. Even worse, his body is literally radiating so much heat, he’s steaming.
“Did one of those fucking demons try to barbecue him?”
Izzy frowns, passing her hands over him. “I can’t say, but from what I can tell, other than being unconscious, he’s fine.”
Oh, thank you, Goddess Mother.
I drop to my knees and grab his shoulder, rolling him toward me. "Asher? Sweetie?”
His hoodie is bundled against his chest, clutched tight in both hands even with him being unconscious.
Something inside it moves.
Orion recoils and curses the movement of his arm. “Fuckity-fuck, what was that?”
“I don’t know, but I know my bestie. He’s curled around it, as if it’s worth him protecting.
” I lean forward and peel back a section of the cotton, revealing first a small black nose, then a paw, then the unmistakable shape of a small, limp, bat-eared demon gremlin balled up against Asher's sternum.
S'Nark.
“Oh, Asher, what the hell did you do?”
The kitchen smells like copper pennies, menthol muscle rub, and caramelized sugar. It seems Hallowind House is worked up about a half-dozen wounded warriors decompressing after a full-scale demon attack on our property.
I can’t say I’m thrilled about it either, but where the house seems to be pitying Asher, I can’t seem to find it in me.
I slam a bag of frozen peas onto the counter harder than necessary, making everyone jump.
Asher shrinks back, giving me a wary glance. “Easy, baby girl. It’s really not that bad.”
I stare at Asher, open-mouthed. “Not that bad? You went into Tharuzel's pocket realm—into his demon purgatory—and almost got yourself killed. No one knew you were there. What if you were still in there when I healed the stones? You would’ve been trapped and we wouldn’t have known.”
"Yeah, P. I'm aware." Asher has his palms up and is staying very still. “But it worked out. I—”
"—could've died!"
"But I didn't."
I grab the frozen peas again—because apparently my hands need something to do—and press them against my own forehead. The cold bites through my headache. "You're human, Asher. You don't have magic to protect you, you don't heal like Orion, you can't—"
"I can't what, Poppy?" His gaze locks with mine. "Can't contribute? Can't face danger? Can’t be useful?"
"That's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?" He presses his hands on the table and stands. "Because it sounds like you're saying I should’ve just stood back and let the grownups handle things.”
“That’s not what I was saying.”
“Are you sure? Because from the way I see it, that bastard was torturing your familiar. Someone who helps you. Someone you care about."
“And I’m incredibly thankful and relieved you got him back, but at what cost?”
S’Nark—currently curled in a miserable ball of scabs and welted shackle wounds—lets out a weak hiss.
"I care about S’Nark, yes, but you are my soul. I couldn’t begin to do any of this without you here. What if Tharuzel discovered you there? You could've been killed retrieving a demon who spends half his time insulting me."
"Oi," S’Nark rasps, one yellow eye cracking open. "I spend all my time insulting you. Don’t go getting soft on me."
Wylder clears his throat. "Poppy—"
"Don't." I whirl on him, my eyes stinging. "Don't defend this."
He holds up his scraped and bloody palms. "I'm not defending anything. I was simply going to say that Asher made a choice in the chaos of a moment, the same way you do every single time you throw yourself at danger."
"That's different."
"How?"
"Because I'm—"
Because I'm what? The spirit witch? The one bound to a demon lord? The one who's supposed to fix everything?
Orion shifts his weight, still in his jeans but shirtless.
The faint tiger striping across his shoulders catches the kitchen light.
"Hey, Pop-Tart, I get it. It liquifies my bowels that our boy went in there. But he’s back, he’s alive, and he’s right.
You can't sideline him because you love him too much to let him risk his safety. That's not fair, and you know it."
He’s right, and I do know it.
That doesn’t mean I hate it any less. I look at Asher and see the singed patches of his silky blond hair and the char smudging his skin, and I want to throw up.
“I can’t lose you, Ash. You can’t do that to me.”
He opens his arms, and I’m wrapped around him in two quick strides. He’s warm, solid, and his heart is thrumming under my ear, telling me he’s really all right.
After another squeeze, he eases back. “You realize this is how I feel every time you’re pulled into a pocket dimension or targeted by Laurel, right? This is just the first time you’ve been on the worried and waiting side of the danger.”
“Fair. It just really sucks.”
“Agreed.”
I hold on for a little longer and then face the sad expressions of my battered and bleeding friends. "I'm sorry. I’m terrified of losing any of you. What if one of you dies because of me? Because of something I do or drag you into?”
Wylder moves closer, his hand warm on my shoulder. “None of us does anything blindly, Hallowind. If we’re standing beside you when danger hits, it’s because we choose to be there. That’s not on you.”
Rowan opens the tin of cookies on the counter and takes them over to the table. "Is anyone else starving?"
"Always," Orion says, already reaching.
And just like that, our world is reset, and Hallowind House is feeding the troops.
It’s another half-hour before the adrenaline wears off, and everyone retreats to their homes. The sun will be up in an hour, and I’ve had more than enough excitement for one night.
Rowan disappears upstairs to her room, and Asher takes the pups outside to pee before bed.
For the first time, I'm alone with S’Nark.
My poor, pitiful demon familiar hasn't moved since I set him down on the couch, wrapped up in Asher’s hoodie. Up close, the patches of missing skin where Tharuzel's chains scorched him look raw and oozy. I also don’t like the way he's holding one hand at an odd angle.
"Hey, can I get you anything?”
"Don't," he rasps. "Don't go all mushy on me, witch."
"Too late." I reach out slowly, letting him see my hand coming. When he doesn't flinch, I give the wrist of what looks to be his good hand a little squeeze. "I'm sorry you went through that."
"Not your fault."
"Feels like it is."
His yellow eyes blink up at me, unusually serious. "He wanted to hurt you through me. That's on him, not you."
"I’m sorry about what I said earlier. You are worth the risk. I’m glad Asher got you back. I was just scared."
"I know." S’Nark's voice is barely a whisper. "And you were right to be. Stupid human doesn’t have the common sense of self-preservation."
My throat tightens. "I know.”
"He’s a good human, though."
"Yeah. I know that too."