Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
It’s mid-afternoon by the time I get moving. It takes a bit to shake the rust off, but after a shower and twenty minutes running circles in the backyard with the pups, my head is a little clearer.
What Eliza said after the fight rings in my mind. "Half a win is still more than we had before you tried.”
That’s true.
And while I’m disappointed that we didn’t get a full win, I’m choosing to be thankful for releasing the ghosts from their possession at the very least.
Now, we have to figure out a way to break the sigils before either Tharuzel gains enough power to become corporeal or the sigils ensnare ghosts again.
Maybe there’s a way Sebastian and I could block Tharuzel from accessing the dead of Emberwood, somehow making them unavailable to the call of his sigils.
I bet Mom would know if that’s possible.
The buddies each get a little liver treat after our play in the yard, and then I wash my hands, grab the bag of supplies Izzy dropped off last night before the ritual, and head to the workroom.
I don’t think there’s ever been a time that I’ve walked up this hall and not been in awe of the door to the Hallowind workspace.
The green door, carved with the tree of life, is just about the most quintessential representation of my mom and to what she has dedicated her life.
It’s the perfect representation of her commitment to the Goddess Mother and the gifts bestowed upon us.
And, as Asher has pointed out many times, it’s also really freaking cool.
The door is slightly ajar, letting the flicker of candlelight escape enough to dance on the hallway wall.
"Mom?"
I let myself in and take a deep breath of fresh sage and lavender. Mom is floating near her worktable, staring down at the Hallowind grimoire set open on the table.
She’s lost in thought and she's barely there.
Her edges flicker like a bad television signal, fading in and out. When she lifts her hand to turn a page, I can see straight through her palm to the wall behind.
"Mom?" My voice comes out sharper than intended.
She startles, turning. For a second, she's solid—fully opaque, bright blue eyes clear and focused. Then the effort seems to catch up with her, and she wavers again.
She manages a smile. “Sorry, petal, I didn't hear you come in."
“Because you're exhausted." I set the bag on the worktable. "Izzy brought some supplies for you last night. Shadeflower petals, spirit root, moonstone dust—everything you asked for last week."
“Oh, that's wonderful." Mom doesn't reach for the bag. She doesn't move at all, like even that would cost too much energy.
I step closer, studying her. The flickering is worse this morning. "How long have you been struggling like this?"
"Like what, love?"
I cross my arms. "Don’t do that. Don't brush off how poorly you’re doing—I can see it. You're barely holding form."
Mom's shoulders sag, and she gives me a sad smile. "It's just a rough day. I’ll rest and be better soon, you’ll see.”
I want to believe her, but in my heart of hearts, I know she’s telling me what I want to hear. “Wylder and I were talking about his mom the other morning. He’s just as worried about her as I am about you.”
She shakes her head. “There’s no need to worry, Poppy, truly. You’ve got enough on your mind without my well-being weighing on you.”
I pull a breath deep into my lungs. “But your well-being is weighing on me, Mom. We’re not intended to be here past our death. You anchored yourself to the property, but it’s wearing on you.”
She lifts her chin. “I told you I’m not going anywhere until your sisters are back and this mess with Tharuzel and the blood contract are taken care of. It’s my fault the bloodline is marked. I won’t leave you to suffer for it.”
I move around the table, wishing I could grab her hands, ground her somehow. “But you hurting yourself by staying here is hurting me, too. Spirits need to recede. To rest with the ancestors."
“But you need me.” Her words crack. “You’re not prepared for your future. There’s so much I haven’t had the chance to teach you.”
Tears blur my vision, and I swipe my sleeve across my eyes. “Yes, I need you. I need you at peace. I need you strong and thriving. It’s killing me to watch you fade away day after day. You need to rest.”
“What’s that saying? I’ll rest when I’m dead.”
“You are dead, Mom.”
She smiles. “I’m aware, Poppy. That was a joke.”
I close my eyes and draw another deep breath. “What if you just go for a little while? You could rest, recover, and maybe reconnect with your family. Maybe you'll learn something about Lily and Violet while you're there. The ancestors see things we can't, right?”
Mom's quiet for a long moment. “What if I can’t get back?”
“I’ll play the song on the piano. That’s the summoning command to your anchor spell, right?”
“It is, but… I don't want to leave you alone. There is so much happening in your life. Too much.”
“But I'm not alone." I gesture vaguely toward the rest of the house. "I've got Asher, Wylder, Rowan, Sebastian, and the whole Brigade. And you'll come back after a while. Just... stronger."
She drifts closer and reaches to cup my cheek. I feel the barest whisper of cold against my skin. “You’ve grown into such an amazing woman, you know that? Strong and brave. Your father would’ve been so proud.”
“Maybe he’s waiting for you somewhere. You could find him and explain what happened. Tell him I’ll find Violet and Lily and will make things right.”
That makes her smile. My parents had an amazing connection, and I know it’s been terrible for her, knowing that he died because he came to rescue her.
It was Laurel who set that in motion, but I know she feels responsible for his death.
“Go, Mom. Find some peace. Grow stronger. And when you’re ready, come back and I’ll give you the updates.”
It’s obvious she doesn’t want to go, but I’ve worn her down. “Give everyone hugs from me, will you?”
She raises her hands and holds my shoulders, studying my face. “Be careful, Poppy. Listen to Sebastian. He’s smart, and he cares for you kids.”
“I will.”
“And check in on the others. The long-term spirits in town—they need guidance."
"I will." The promise feels heavy.
Mom takes a deep breath and then nods. “Call me if you need me.”
My throat is too clogged to speak, so I just nod.
As she closes her eyes, the candlelight dims, shadows lengthening across the workroom walls.
"I love you, Poppy. You and your sisters are my soul.”
I swallow past the emotion choking me. "I love you too, Mom."
She fades slowly this time, deliberately. Not flickering out in distress but dissolving like mist in sunlight, returning to wherever spirits go when they’re not existing on the physical plane.
Hot tears stream down my cheeks as the reality of losing her hits. I told her that I wasn’t alone, but I am.
She’s my mom and no friend or mentor could ever fill the void left by losing her. She’s gone, and with her, so is my strong and steady, my guide through this magical life, my safe place.
The workroom feels emptier without her.
I stand there trying to breathe, letting the reality settle around me.
She'll be back. She promised.
I’m not sure how long later I hear Asher’s truck coming up the driveway, but the low rumble of the engine has the pups going full-on hysterical and pulls me out of my pity party.
A swipe of my sleeve across my face and a deep breath won’t hide anything, but thankfully, by bestie is a take you as you come kinda guy.
I don’t close the door as I leave the workroom, because knowing my mom is gone, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to open the door again if I find myself standing in the hall.
This has always been her space.
I guess I have to wrap my head around the idea that it’s my space now.
Somebuddy and Nobuddy are still in the throes of celebration at the return of their doggy daddy when I find him setting a couple of takeout bags on the kitchen counter.
“Tanner heard about last night and sent us—” The moment he sees me, he’s crossing the floor and pulling me into his arms. “What’s wrong, P? What happened?”
I tell him about Mom, and about sending her to rest with the ancestors. And, as usual, unloading my heartache on Asher lets me breathe again.
He holds me, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You did the right thing. You know that, and I know you know that. And you’re right, if you need her, she’s still anchored to the property. You can tinkle on the ivories and bring her back.”
I burst out laughing. “Dude, you tinkle the ivories. You don’t tinkle on them. That’s gross and unsanitary.”
He cracks a wide smile. “And I don’t suppose it’s good for the keys.”
“Probably not, no.”
Asher shrugs and turns back to the bags. “I got a banquet burger and rings for you. I figured after all that stone healing, you could use some greasy carbs.”
I curl my fingers into the shape of a heart and bring them to my chest. “Love you hard.”
He winks and continues to pull out our comfort food feast.
The two of us settle in on the island stools, and I’ve just taken my first bite when my phone buzzes.
“Unknown number.”
“Ignore it. Joe Schmo can clean someone else’s ducts.”
It probably is spam, but with so much happening, I don’t feel right not answering. "Hello?"
"Miss Hallowind-Forrester, it’s Garrison Thorne. Are you home? Would you mind if I pop in for a chat?”
The edge of power in his voice makes my spine straighten. “Mr. Thorne… your Honor… uh, of course. You’re welcome to come over.”
The line remains quiet for a moment, and then there’s a pulse of energy behind me, and I spin on my stool. “Call me Garrison. That Honorable Mr. Stonehoof bullshit gives me hives.”
Seven feet of mythical bison stands in front of me, his curved black horns and massively broad shoulders covered in a thick mane of shaggy brown and black fur. The ceremonial cape he wore on the night of the Order meeting is gone.
Today, he wears black leather pants but no shirt. Then again, I doubt there’s enough fabric on the planet to cover that muscled chest.