Chapter 22 #2
I open my eyes when Darius releases my hands, and I am alone in my body once again. "Thank you."
He nods once and stands, and I get the sense he's a man who doesn't want to overstep. He's seen my innermost thoughts, and I'm sure for some, that can be triggering. I'm simply grateful.
I turn to Garrison.
He stands with his arms folded across his enormous bison chest, watching me with his round, dark eyes. The lantern light catches the polished curve of his horns, and he dips his chin. "What now?"
"Now, if you're willing, I need you to take Asher, Wylder, and me straight into each of the lockstone chambers I remember. Can you work off coordinates?"
Garrison nods. "I can."
"Awesome." I glance at Asher and, as always, he's on board. "Then, Asher is going to seal the rune circles with his guardian shield energy. And hopefully, Tharuzel won't be able to get at them."
“And what am I doing?” Wylder asks.
“You are there with us in case we stumble into Tharuzel in progress. It can’t hurt to have another affinity there to defend. Also, you’re strategic and often think of things I miss.”
Garrison looks skeptical.
Doesn't matter. "Asher wields pure guardian angel magic. He is goodness and honor, and his intentions are pure. He's the Goddess Mother's chosen emissary. I don't think any demon is getting through that."
Asher straightens, his jaw set and his smile bright. "Do you really think I've got the goods?"
I hold my hand out to him and smile. "I've always thought so. Now you get to prove it to the world."
Garrison holds out his hand. "Give me the first of the coordinates. Where do you want to begin?"
We return to the Order compound in the Bahamas after a long and tiring day.
Part of me aches to be home with my sisters, to flop into my own bed, and to have the house spoil me with sweet treats.
Another part of me realizes that my team is in the Bahamas, working through a crisis, and I've all but abandoned them there.
We find Rowan and Orion in the common area of the guest suite, journals fanned out across the table in front of him, and in a half-circle around where she's sitting cross-legged on the floor.
Orion's shifter hearing picks up our arrival first, his silver-blue gaze flicking up the moment we approach. "The traveling troop returns. How'd it go?"
"Oh, you know, just out there saving the world. Busy, busy. Same ole story." He bends to give Orion a quick kiss hello, then drops into the seat next to him.
"Well, we're glad you're back," Izzy says from where she has her feet tucked under her butt on the sofa.
Clara is beside her with a notepad balanced on her knee. "Did it work?"
I head to the refrigerator and select a can of soda, pulling the tab with a satisfying crack. "We'll have to wait and see, but we hope so."
"At least you're alive." Rowan doesn't look up from the journal. "I take it you didn't run into Tharuzel while you were chamber-hopping?"
"Thankfully, no." I drop into the armchair nearest the window, and Wylder grabs a cheese board and a sleeve of crackers and joins me. He pulls another armchair close and sets the wooden board across the arms of the two chairs.
"You're an angel. Thank you."
Asher scoffs. "No, I'm the angel. He's your boyfriend. Geez, Poppy, try to keep it straight."
I laugh and make a little cheese and cracker sandwich. "My bad. I'll try to do better."
Orion closes the journal without marking his page. "So, how did it go?"
"We shielded seven." I pull my knees up. "Three were already destroyed before we reached them."
The room goes quiet except for the ceiling fan turning lazily overhead.
Clara sets her notepad down. "Three more were down? Plus here, Ireland, and Denmark?"
I chew my crackers and nod.
Izzy uncurls her feet from under her. "So out of the original thirteen—"
"Six are destroyed, seven are holding." I watch the math settle in across the room. It's the same math I've been carrying since the moment we confirmed the third ruined chamber.
There are almost as many lockstones broken as there are working.
"That's not enough." Rowan's gray gaze is flat and steady, which is somehow worse than if she'd looked frightened. "Fifty-three percent isn't a ward, it's a screen door."
"I'm aware."
"A screen door against something that makes Tharuzel look like a warm-up act. That's shit. We're totally fucked."
"Rowan." Wylder's voice is quiet.
"What? Are you saying I'm wrong?"
"There's no way to know. So far, there are still seven holding. We don't know how the spell was constructed or how many anchors the ley lines need to hold. We need to focus on what we do know."
Rowan spins the silver ring on her thumb and sets it back in place. "And what do we know?"
I walk them through our day, each of the ten chambers we visited, the way Asher's shield seems to have sealed the rune circles, and the deep thrumming resonance when the stone accepted his guardian light.
I tell them about the three destroyed lockstones, the scorch marks, the rubble, and the ancient carvings split clean through. "Thankfully, we didn't run into Tharuzel. And hopefully, by the time we do, Mica will have weapons for us."
"Is she even close?" Rowan asks.
"She is," I assure them. "Brimstone is helping her with the imbuing of blood and intention, and she thinks it's going to work."
Clara reaches over to the coffee table and reclaims her notepad. "We went to your scheduled meeting this morning with Torres. He didn't tell us anything you probably don't already know, but I recorded the whole meeting and sent the file to you. It's in the Brigade thread."
I take another sip of my soda and swallow. "Thank you. I'll listen to it tonight."
"He was..." Izzy tilts her head, searching for the word.
"Technically cooperative," Clara supplies.
"Technically cooperative," Izzy agrees. "He answered every question we asked. He just wasn't overly inspired to volunteer anything."
Orion leans back in his chair. "He gave us the same energy as the guy at the Irish chapter. Annoyed to be involved and determined to make sure we know it."
I lean my head back against the chair and look at the ceiling.
Don't these people get it? We're fighting a losing battle that will make or break the human world as we know it.
Why are they more worried about chapter politics and the inconvenience of talking to young witches than releasing a majorly major demon?
"What about the journals? Did you find anything useful? "
Orion and Rowan exchange a look, and then Rowan fields the question. "Useful is a strong word, but there are a few mentions of the preparations the Nine took before the ritual. Nothing that jumps out as helpful, but they set the stage a little better."
I let out a long sigh. "Why can't there ever be a journal that just says, 'Here's everything you need to know. Have at it.'"
"That would be so helpful," Asher agrees.
Rowan smiles. “We haven’t finished going through them, but Khylie is pretty sure we can piece the ritual together.”
“Okay, well, that’s something.”
Wylder, who has been quietly taking it all in since we sat down, gives me a smile.
"Here's where I think we stand. Until Mica has the weapons forged and ready, we have two priorities.
First is fix the rune circles. Of the six destroyed lockstones, five of them still need to be repaired.
Xavier is incredible, but it might be a task too great for one man, given how badly we need the wards back in place. "
Clara raises her hand slightly. "Khylie mentioned Xavier knows other stone witches. I bet we can rally them if they know how important it is."
I brush my fingers off on my pants. "It's late and we've taken up two full days of their time. We'll talk to them about that in the morning. What else?"
Wylder continues. "Second, we need to find nine descendants willing and trained enough to perform the ritual and survive it."
"Do they have to be descendants, or can they just be spirit witches?" Orion asks.
Good question. "If it doesn't have to be descendants, I could ask Sebastian."
"The Order probably has a way to filter witches by affinity," Orion says.
Asher makes a face. "Magical profiling? Rude."
I chuckle. "Maybe that's true, but it works in our favor if they do."
"And what does willing look like in this situation?" Orion asks. "Given what happened to Henrik and that first response Poppy got to her email asking for help. There's no way to guess how people are going to respond to the idea. Especially knowing that people died the first time around."
No one has a good answer for that, and I don't try to invent one.
"You know what? That's tomorrow's problem. For tonight, we're in the Bahamas, I'm starving, and I could really use a drink. Who wants to toss in the towel for the night and take a breather?"
Asher brightens. "I could use a breather."
Rowan blinks. "You had me at 'drink'."
I point at the window and the darkening strip of ocean beyond it. "All right, Brigade. I vote we put our feet in the sand, walk up the shoreline, and spend an hour or two filling our social wells at that seaside bar I see lighting up the beach."
Asher shoots to his feet. "I second the motion. Everyone dressed and ready in ten minutes. There are shenanigans to be had."