Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
It's after seven in the morning when we finish with Mica at the forge building and drop Lily and Violet back at Hallowind House. It may have been a rash decision to pull out of Arcana so quickly, but it's amazing to see my sisters back home.
Asher pauses long enough to let the puppers out for a pee and to feed them and give them some belly rubs, and then, he, Wylder, and I are out at the standing stones, and he's using the Hallowind ancestral power to portal us back to the Order chapter in Nassau.
Which is incredible in its own right, and I tell him so.
"Yeah, I was astonished I got us back home, but I guess that whole 'mother lifts a car' adrenaline rush also works on portaling your possessed bestie across continents while she's having a magical power overload."
Wylder arches a dark brow. "It could also be the fact that all Order head offices have standing stones to allow ease of portaling between headquarters."
Asher waves that explanation away. "It could, but we didn't know that at the time."
Wylder nods. "True. We didn't. And in no way am I downplaying what you did. I'm grateful you were there, and I'm even more grateful that Poppy has you in her corner, always looking out for her."
Asher flashes him a sly smile. "Are you coming on to me, Howe?"
I bust up laughing and gesture to the standing stones around us. "All right, Ash. Show me what you've got."
The evening air hits warm and salt-thick the moment we materialize in the ring of standing stones on the property behind the Bahamian Order of the Arcane standing stones.
The sun is sinking low, and the tangerine orange spreading over the surface of the turquoise water looks like some heavenly artist has painted the whole place in copper.
It would be heart-stoppingly beautiful if my heart wasn't already racing with anxiety about returning to the scene of a crime I committed.
"You good?" Wylder asks from beside me.
"Ask me again in ten minutes."
We find our way inside and retrace the path Khylie took us when we first arrived.
Khylie is waiting at the cave mouth, and when she sees me, I brace for it, some version of the look I've been giving myself in every reflective surface since the Bahamas went sideways.
Disappointment. Anger. The particular expression of someone who trusted you and got burned for it.
What I get instead is Khylie crossing the distance between us and putting both hands on my shoulders. "Oh, you look so much better. Are you all right?"
"I'm devastated about what happened. I can't tell you how sorry I am. I'm just sick that you trusted me to come here and see everything your family has preserved all these centuries and I betrayed that trust."
"You did no such thing. Are you saying you invited Tharuzel here? Or that you willingly gave yourself over to him so that he could take down our lockstone?"
"Oh, no. Of course not. I would never. But still—"
"But nothing. You survived a major demon taking hold of you, and you're still standing. Don't apologize to me."
I open my mouth to argue, but she shakes her head. "Seriously, Poppy, you don't have to say anything more. I cannot imagine fighting something like that off from inside. Xavier and I grew up knowing an attack on the lockstone was always a possibility. We know it's a target."
"Yeah, and I led him straight to it."
"You didn't lead him anywhere. He used you. There's a difference." She drops her hands and tilts her head toward the cave. "And it's not as bad as you're probably imagining. Come and see what Xavier's done."
The sea chamber looks different at low tide. The water has pulled back from the rocky floor, and the bioluminescence at the bottom of the tide pool lights the lower walls in faint blue-green.
The air smells less like salt and more like warm stone, and I'm not sure if that's because of the absence of the sea or the signature of the stone witch repairing the runes.
Xavier is crouched at the base of the ritual circle, a wide, flat-backed man with Khylie's same deep brown complexion and close-cropped hair that’s darker at the temples and forehead where it's damp with sweat.
His hands move with the precise focus of an artist who has been transported into their creation and has blocked out the world around them. Lily often looks like this when she is lost in one of her sketch books.
Xavier exists within stone and intention, his glowing fingers tracing the carved lines of the runes with a purpose that makes my spirit magic hum in recognition.
The Mother Goddess' gifts called to purpose.
The circle is almost whole again. The fractures Tharuzel tore through it are sealed, the carved runes sharp and clean again, each symbol sitting flush in the wall as though it had never crumbled to the sand floor in ruin.
The only thing missing is the powerful turquoise light. The grooves are dark where they should be glowing with the intention of The Nine, the warding spell dormant for the first time in centuries.
"He's been at it since he arrived yesterday," Khylie says quietly beside me. "Stone witches might not work quickly, but they work long and hard."
"It's incredible. What a gift."
Xavier doesn't acknowledge us, and I don't intend to interrupt him. I watch him work and feel something in my chest unknot, just slightly. The damage I caused, or that Tharuzel caused through me, is being repaired by someone who knows this stone better than anyone alive.
I'm not going to pretend that makes my guilt dissolve entirely.
Birdie told me not to marinate in it. Asher pulled a face so thoroughly offended when I tried to take the blame that it almost made me laugh.
But knowing you shouldn't blame yourself and actually not doing it are two very different things.
I can't change what happened, but I can try to ensure it doesn't happen again.
My phone buzzes, and Garrison's name sits at the top of the screen.
Badass Boss: I'm upstairs at the Order headquarters. Come when you're ready.
I glance at Asher, who is already reading over my shoulder. He holds out his hand. Wylder takes my other hand, and the cave dissolves…
The Nassau Order headquarters courtyard is no less stunning for having seen it before.
Pale stone paths wind between enormous bird-of-paradise plants and something with wide, glossy leaves that catches the morning light.
The sky above is bursting with the promise of a new day, and I hope that is more than potential.
I hope it's a foretelling of things turning around.
Garrison stands at the center of the enclosed courtyard, and beside him is a man I don't recognize.
He is tall and black, with long dreadlocks pulled back loosely, and an expression of composed patience.
He looks to be in his mid-forties and carries himself with the stillness of someone who takes up space quietly.
"Poppy," Garrison gestures a hand between us as we approach. "This is Darius. He is a walker."
Asher leans toward me. "A what?"
"A walker," I repeat, but have no idea what that is, either.
"His gift is consciousness projection." Wylder's broody side is in full force as he takes in the man. "They can move their awareness through other people, read thoughts and memories."
Asher frowns. "That's extremely disturbing. Also, why is he here?"
"I asked Garrison to find someone to help me," I tell them. "Tharuzel pulled the lockstone locations out of me. If we have any hope of stopping him, we need to access what he found. And since I have no idea where that information is stored within me, and can't get there myself…"
Darius extends his hand, and his voice is low and even. "I am honored to help."
I reach to greet him, but Asher intercepts my wrist and keeps me from shaking his hand. "Not so fast."
I roll my eyes. "You'll have to excuse Asher. He's very protective."
"Because I'm her Guardian Angel," Asher informs him. "I was put at her side by the Goddess Mother herself. Poppy is special. You get me?"
If Darius is offended or put out in any way by Asher's behavior, he doesn't show it. "I get you, and I swear I have no intention of doing her harm. I'm only here to help."
Asher's gaze narrows, but I step past him. "Thank you for coming. Shall we?"
Darius and I sit opposite each other, straddling a low stone bench.
Our knees touch, and he takes both my hands in his, palms up, and I feel the warmth of his grip, steady and unhurried.
"I promise it won't hurt. It'll feel a little like I'm a gossamer curtain blowing gently across the breeze of your consciousness. "
Okay, that sounds nice enough.
He closes his eyes, but I keep mine open.
For a moment, nothing happens. Then there is a shift, and a ghostly version of Darius, barely visible but magically felt, lifts from his body and moves the short distance between us.
His essence settles into me like a ghost inhabiting another body. The sensation is extraordinary and deeply strange, but he's right, it doesn't hurt. He's like a warm current moving through the still water of my consciousness.
There's a moment of fear when flashbacks of Tharuzel seizing my will make me want to end this. I tense but fight the impulse.
Darius isn't taking hold of anything.
He doesn't reach for my hands, or my voice, or my intention the way Tharuzel did. He simply drifts through my awareness like light through glass, present but not possessive.
I can do this. I owe it to everyone to make things right, and this is the best way to do that. I exhale a long breath and close my eyes.
After a moment, something opens.
Not 'open' like a door or a window, but more like becoming aware of releasing something that was always there, but I never noticed.
Memories that aren't mine but were gifted to me.
Locations, details, instructions…
Each thought Darius releases is distinct and separate. He doesn't interact with them in any way, he simply illuminates them, highlights them so I can see clearly what Tharuzel found.
Then he retreats. The current stills, but the memories remain.