Chapter 17 #2
He inclines his massive head, and I notice how high the ceiling is. He doesn’t even need to duck to keep his horns from scraping.
"It’s important for a team to find balance, Poppy. Between learning who you were, your sisters being missing, Tharuzel visions, Henrik’s loss, and Wylder’s injury, you’ve been dealt a lot. It’s good to have friends who remind you of what’s important. A leader needs to ensure they don’t burn out."
"Put on my oxygen mask first. Yeah, I know. Asher is always saying things like that to me.”
“He’s an odd boy, but he loves you deeply.”
I nod. “It’s mutual.”
“So, nine a.m., yes?”
“I’ll be there.”
Garrison steps back and disappears into thin air, like he was never even here.
I stand there for a moment, wondering if finding a friend in Garrison and the Order is somehow a repayment for all the craptastic stuff I went through beforehand.
"So, straight to the beach?" Rowan asks, sticking her head out of her room.
"For you guys, sure. I’m focused on work first." I head into my room and drop my duffel on the end of the bed. Then I pull out my phone and open my messages with Khylie.
Poppy: We're here at the Order HQ. Ready to meet whenever you are.
The response comes before I can even pocket my phone.
Khylie: I'm already here! Front atrium. Can't wait to meet you all!
"Khylie’s here. She says she’s in the front atrium."
Wylder sets down his toiletries kit. "That was fast. Was she waiting for us?"
"Guess I’m about to find out. You coming?”
“Absolutely.”
In the end, everyone decides to come. It takes a few minutes to weave our way out of the guest quarters and find the front atrium, but we manage.
It sits at the heart of the compound, a circular space with a domed ceiling painted in swirling blues and greens. Sunlight streams through colored glass panels, scattering rainbow fragments across the polished floor.
A young woman bounces on her toes near the central fountain.
She spots us immediately. "Poppy?"
"That's me." I raise a hand.
She closes the distance in three energetic strides, beaming. "Oh my god, hi! I'm Khylie!" She's all brightness: sun-lightened braids, warm brown skin, and an enthusiasm that feels genuine. "It's so good to finally meet you! And you brought friends!"
"We call ourselves the Life and Death Brigade," I gesture to each in turn. "Wylder, Rowan, Clara, Izzy, Orion, and Asher."
"Wow." Khylie's grin widens. "That's cool. I wish there were more people my age on the island. Our coven is probably one of the smallest, and I’m the youngest, so it gets a little boring around here."
Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a little boring.
Asher shrugs. “You can be an honorary member of the Life and Death Brigade. We’re an inclusive organization, and if you host the odd meeting, you’re in.”
I blink as Clara and Izzy cheer and Rowan laughs. Really, why do they encourage him?
Khylie rocks back on her heels and claps. “Awesome. I love that. And to prove my value as a new member, I’ll start by showing you something on the property that is older than the Order’s presence on the island."
“Perfect. Lead the way.”
“It’s been in the care of my family for centuries, so when the Order first approached us about establishing a chapter here, they bought up all the surrounding land to secure it.”
She takes us back through the compound, past administrative offices and training rooms, until we reach a door that doesn't match the others.
It’s much older. A bleached, weathered wood instead of painted panels.
Khylie presses her palm flat against the surface. Magic hums in the air and carries her unique signature of salt and sun.
The door swings open on a narrow passage descending into darkness. "The stairs are ancient. Watch your step."
We follow her down.
The passage twists, carved from limestone that grows damp and cool as we descend. Soft light begins to filter into the darkness ahead. It’s not torchlight or electric, but something else. Something from the natural world.
The stairs open into a cavern, and when we step inside, I stop breathing.
Turquoise light pours through gaps in the limestone ceiling, illuminating a space that is both ancient and alive. The cavern opens to an arching cave on one side, the waves of the sea lapping against the sand floor.
Carvings cover the walls, symbols and script I recognize as similar to the ones from Ireland, but these are cleaner, maintained, loved.
Shelves carved into the rock hold journals bound in leather and cloth, some so old that the spines have faded to nothing. Relics rest on stone pedestals: bowls, blades, and things I can't identify but feel the power radiating from.
And on the far wall, lit by a shaft of light that seems to know exactly where to fall—a lockstone.
"Holy shit," Asher whispers.
"Yeah." Khylie grins. "It's something, right?"
Clara moves closer to the carvings, her fingers hovering over the symbols.
A wave of nausea hits as flashbacks of Ireland’s disaster strikes. I hold out my hand. “Don’t touch anything.”
Clara nods. “Sorry. It’s just… the water and the chamber and the ancient power. It’s incredible."
"This lockstone has been the responsibility of my family for generations." Khylie's voice carries pride and reverence. "We've protected it, reinforced it, and kept it strong."
I turn to her. "Reinforced it? You've actually been maintaining the lockstone?"
"Of course." She blinks at me like that's obvious. "With the salt in the air, it's vital work."
My chest tightens. "The Irish lockstone wasn't being reinforced. It looked abandoned and forgotten."
Khylie's expression shifts. "Wait, what?"
I move closer to the lockstone, studying the carved symbols glowing with turquoise light. "Maybe that's why Tharuzel went there first. Because it was already weak and the protections hadn’t been reinforced."
Khylie presses a hand to her mouth. "I had no idea. I’ve spoken to Freya a few times when she’s had research questions, but the topic of reinforcing never came up. I just assumed her family was acting as custodians to their lockstone. I mean, it seemed obvious."
"From what we’ve learned, The Nine may have been a little too secretive about the locations and care of the lockstones. It seems to have left the descendants unprepared and in the dark about some of the important details.”
“Like how to repair it,” Wylder says.
I take a step closer to the rune circle carved into the cave wall.
The energy it gives off resonates within me, humming at a frequency that feels amazing.
“I had a vision of The Nine in the Ireland chamber. They talked briefly about being able to repair the stones should one of them fail. They vowed to preserve that information by handing it down to their descendants.”
“And they did.” Khylie meets my gaze with a look of confusion. “Didn’t they?”
I shrug. “I knew nothing about being a Descendant of the Nine, and I certainly don’t possess any information or location of a lockstone.
Freya has been researching and is devoted to learning more, but she’s only learned what she knows from research.
I’m not sure about Henrik and his family, but he didn’t seem to know much more than us. ”
“That’s why you stepping forward is so exciting,” Asher says, joining the conversation. “It seems your family has preserved the integrity of the information better than anyone else we’ve come across. So, we’re hoping you know how to repair what Tharuzel damaged."
I nod. “Yeah, if we could repair Ireland and Denmark, it would be incredible.”
Khylie chews her lip, thinking. "We know how to maintain and reinforce, but repairing the stone and spell from a point of destruction… I don’t think we do.”
Well, hell. That isn’t the answer I want to hear, but we’re still not out of this. “But you have a stone witch helping you, right?”
It's mostly a guess, but given what Mica said and how Khylie’s family have kept their lockstone in perfect working order for centuries…
"My older brother, Xavier." Khylie brightens. “He's incredible and knows as much or more than I do about the lockstone. He could definitely help."
Hope sparks. "Could we talk to him?"
"Absolutely. I'll text him to come over right now."
While Khylie pulls out her phone, I wander through the space, taking it all in: the journals, the relics, the sense that this place has been tended with care for centuries, the hum of power building in my cells...
"Tell us everything you know about the ritual, the lockstones, and anything you think might help us.”
Khylie finishes sending her text and launches into it. She starts with what she knows about The Nine, the spells they combined for the binding, and the way the lockstones work as anchor points for a banishing ward bigger than any other she knows of.
I’m with her on that. “Yeah, given that the two broken lockstones were in Ireland and Denmark, I was thinking the area of the banishment was Europe. I never expected there to be a lockstone here.”
“That’s a massive ward,” Wylder says. “How does it even hold?”
“Ley lines and anchor points,” Khylie says.
She speaks with the confidence of someone who's grown up with the stories, who's watched the reinforcing ritual, who understands this magic to the depth of her bones.
She’s the answer I’ve been hoping for. With her help, we might just get ahead of Tharuzel and fix this mess.
I listen, absorbing every word, cataloging information, and growing more excited by the minute.
Then something shifts…
I know the sensation and, as vile as it is, it’s undeniable. “Demons incoming!”