Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The silence in Hallowind House is eerie. After the chaos of what happened at the mill, the quiet makes me jumpy. We're all running on fumes and adrenaline, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Is Tharuzel gone? Will he circle back? If he is gone, where did he go and what damage is he causing?
I pace a circuit of the family room for the millionth time, watching twilight paint the standing stones purple through the window.
It’s been three days since Tharuzel vanished through that portal. Three days of scouring news stories and trying to find the major demon we let loose on the world. Three days of imagining what horrible, unspeakable acts he and his minions are unleashing on the nocana world.
“I’m thinking a nice beige Berber carpet.” Asher yawns where he’s stretched out on the couch, Somebuddy and Nobuddy curled on his lap.
I blink. “Berber? What?”
“Yeah, I’m brainstorming what we should do once you wear a hole in the floor.” He’s been absently petting the chihuahuas for the past hour, his hands occasionally flickering with golden light.
I stop and stare out the window. "I can't just sit back and relax while he's out there. He’s getting stronger… planning something horrible…"
"And we'll find him.” Wylder is looking better than he did at the mill, but shadows still linger under his eyes. The black rot really hit his affinity magic hard. “Sooner or later there will be something in the news that leads us to him. My guess is that Asher’s light proved he’s not as invincible as he thought he was. He’s likely regrouping.”
The doorbell rings, and the pups explode off the couch, barking like the world is ending.
I'm already moving, hope and dread twisting in my chest.
Maybe it's Mica back with news about weapons.
Maybe—
Vale stands on my porch, his emerald suit as dazzling as always, his gold tie fizzing and firing like holiday sparklers.
“Hey, Vale. What brings you by?” His expression makes my stomach drop. “What’s wrong?”
He shifts to the side, and Garrison Stonehoof steps into view. The queasy twist in my stomach takes on a new level. “Okay, this is bad, isn’t it?”
Vale gives me a sympathetic look. “Perhaps we should discuss this inside with your mother.”
I lead them inside, my pulse hammering. “Mom is resting with the ancestors. I can call her back if you think it’s necessary. Is this about my sisters?”
“It is.”
I’ve always considered Hallowind House to be very open and roomy, but with a man the size of Garrison in its halls, the house feels downright claustrophobic.
Wylder, Rowan, and Asher stand the moment we arrive at the back of the house.
Everyone knows Vale but based on the way Rowan and Wylder are staring at the seven-foot-tall Rift Minotaur, they’ve never met Garrison.
I make the introductions and we get right to it.
“Did you say you’ve found Poppy’s sisters?” Asher asks.
“We believe so, yes.” Vale moves to the kitchen and sets his briefcase on the table. The clasps click open with two sharp clacks, and he pulls out a thick folder.
He flips the front cover open, and photographs spill across the surface of the table. Buildings. Maps. Lists of names.
“The investigation into Laurel Cromwell's activities has uncovered an extensive degree of corruption,” Vale says.
Garrison grunts and pegs me with a frown. “Unfortunately, it’s much worse than simply her manipulation of your family. I’m sorry, Poppy. Something of this magnitude should’ve been caught by the Order years ago. This should never have happened.”
I shrug. “But it did. And, as far as I’m aware, there’s no changing it back without severe consequences for screwing with the timeline, so here we are. All we can do now is find my sisters and bring them home.”
“And make Laurel and her crew pay,” Asher adds.
“Yeah, that too.” I lean forward, searching the images for any evidence of my sisters.
Asher shifts closer, his shoulder against mine. “Tell us what we’re looking at.”
Vale spreads the photographs out, pointing to photos of what looks like a concrete and adobe building in the center of a desert compound.
“From what we’ve learned, for the past decade, Laurel has been part of a network systematically imprisoning witches and draining their magic to fuel her own power and influence. "
Yeah, that’s pretty much what we thought.
Wylder steps forward and picks up one of the photos. “How many witches do you think they’ve taken?”
Garrison makes a noise in his throat. “There’s no way to know until we take them down. Given that Davina Draven was held and siphoned for a decade, we can assume they keep elite witches for long periods. We’re hoping that has kept the number of witches needed for their purposes low.”
I scoff. “That doesn’t help my sisters or Davina. They were kidnapped and tortured for years.”
Garrison meets my gaze and dips his chin. “And that’s inexcusable. You have my word, once we secure the young witches affected by this, the Order of the Arcane will do everything in our power to make amends to them and their families.”
I don’t even know what to think about that. How do they make amends? What have my sisters and the other witches gone through? They’ve lost years of their lives. And who knows what kind of long-term damage has been done by their siphoning.
My mental spiral is interrupted by Vale tracing his fingers over a map. “The important thing now is to bring them home. And we believe we have a plan.”
The compound sits in a pocket of inaccessible land somewhere in the desert.
It’s encompassed by hills on all sides, and for people in the nocana world, it would take a helicopter to reach it.
For those of us in the magical world, it’s a matter of a few portals spelled to open and remain undetectable.
From a distance, the property looks like a sprawling Southwestern ranch with stone walls penning in two large ranch-style homes and a handful of smaller outbuildings.
If I didn’t know what I was looking at, I would’ve assumed this was the home of a wealthy recluse who values privacy over convenience.
Unfortunately, that’s not the case.
“They’ve probably got this place warded up the magical wazoo,” Asher says. “Can your people take care of that?”
Garrison stands beside us, his long, curved horns gleaming obsidian in the sunlight, his thick, shaggy mane spilling over his broad shoulders and down his back and sides.
“The tactical team of the Order can handle any defensive measures these witches have in place. Whatever Laurel and her co-conspirators think they’ve done to get away with their crimes, they are mistaken. They will be held accountable.”
The dangerous edge vibrating in his deep baritone tells me how deeply offended he is that Laurel’s gotten away with this for so long. Good. I hope he unleashes all his fury upon her and her collaborators.
And better yet…
I pull out my phone and send a quick text with a pin to our location.
Around me, my friends wait for the Order infiltration team to give us the go-ahead. Wylder crouches to my left, his hands pressed against the sandy earth.
Absently, I wonder how the desert location affects his plant magic. Can he still conjure vines and command the trees when we’re surrounded by cacti and scrub?
Orion lets out a rumbled growl, his tiger pressed against Asher’s side. His striped tail twitches like a thick rope, the anticipation of what’s coming building in all of us.
Rowan is standing in Garrison’s shadow, glaring up at the golden sky. With her shadow magic, she is definitely more endless night than sweet delight.
And then there’s Asher.
My bestie guardian angel stands next to me, his compound bow slung at the ready, the bolts strapped to his hip.
"You good?" I whisper.
He grins, sharp and bright. “I’m here, able to help fight the bad guys, ready to protect you, so yeah, I’m great.”
I lean over to give him a hug. “Love you, Hendrix.”
“Love you more, Hallowind.”
Garrison presses a finger against the communicator in his ear and nods. “All right, the infiltration team has taken down all security measures, and the secondary line has the place surrounded. We go on my mark.”
This is it. My sisters are in there… I know they are.
They have to be.
Garrison raises one massive hand, listening to the updates over the Order communicators. A few agonizingly long moments pass before he points forward. “Go!”
We charge forward, racing toward the tall stone walls.
“Follow me, people!” Garrison’s massive minotaur frame strikes off at a run. His footfalls are heavy, but he moves remarkably quickly for a man the size of an SUV.
Our group picks up speed as we barrel straight toward the compound wall. When I expect him to slow down so we can scale the wall, magic zings across my skin.
Garrison throws a hand forward, and an entire section of the wall disappears. He races ahead, joining a group of witches, fae, and shifters coming across the compound courtyard from other directions.
A pulse of dark magic erupts from the building, and five cloaked figures materialize on the roof. I’d bet my balls it’s Laurel standing front and center, her silver hair whipping free of the ebony hood hiding her identity.
I knew about two other witches from the secret meeting but have no idea who the other two might be. Not that it matters. They’re all going down.
The air bursts with ozone as magic erupts all around us.
According to what the Order gleaned, the captive witches are housed in the long, low barrack building off to the right. I leave the battle behind, and head straight there.
Sure, I want Laurel to pay, but I want my sisters rescued and safe much more.
I sprint toward the barracks. Wylder, Asher, Rowan, and Orion in my battle group. Garrison made me promise that we’d stick to rescue and recovery and leave the taking down of the enemy to those with more experience.
That was an easy concession.