Chapter 44
heartbeat in the oak
They began moving. The witches fell into place, forming a diamond of protection behind Jess and Callie. Isabel kept to Callie’s left, just behind her, watching into the gloom of the forest, all keeping pace just above a whisper. Undergrowth changed from leaves to pine needles, then back. Halfway in, the witch on the right flank raised her hand, and they stopped as a unit. Isabel hurried to confer with the witch. “North, more northeast,” she pointed, “Movement. Larger than a deer, but I can’t tell if it’s spellborn or human.”
Callie’s eyes shot to Jess. Callie saw what little softness Jess had tried to maintain vanish. They had trained for this and discussed it well into the night. Jess was already moving. Walking by, she threw her cloak off her hip to expose a bandoleer of throwing knives. She drew one, caught Callie’s eye with a soft, sad tip of her lips, a flicker, then half a breath. She accelerated and was gone.
The witches closed ranks, back to back, waiting with hands on weapons and sigils poised, but before a full minute had passed, Jess returned, knife in her hand. “Human,” she said coldly, “and no longer a threat.” She held out a hand, in it a tangle of silver thread. “They are spread thin. I’d expect misting wards as we get closer, possibly more lookouts.”
On the other hand, her blade. The attack had happened so quickly that she had yet to sheath the weapon. She had burst into the guard’s perimeter and passed the sensitive wire so fast the sentry had no time to react.
One of the witches stared. “Silent as myth.”
Callie shot a look at Jess, just itching to comment, but she settled for an overheated exhale—one she thought Jess might remember from a radically different setting. Something in her chest tightened anyway, a quick, unwelcome pulse of reality, and she swallowed it down. Though Jess said nothing, her lips just slightly pulled into a smirk. They continued toward the monastery.
It wasn’t long until the air began to change, and with it, the stealth of the approaching collective. The air around the monastery started to thicken, a globe of humidity captured in the normally dry air. It hinted at enhancement, then danger.
They stood at the edge of the trees that encircled the old structure. No dramatic entrance, no war cries, just the shuffle of boots on damp soil. Suddenly, the first mark of danger revealed itself.
A tree, an old oak, its trunk gnarled by decades of unstructured growth, began to glow. Chest high, someone had carved an ancient rune into the tree. Dark as it was, the witches couldn’t tell if the mark had been engraved with a chainsaw or savagely etched into the bark and deeper, with a fury of plasma. It was a Harbinger rune.
“Poorly rendered,” Isabel critiqued. “Tells me they have no reverence for what they are summoning.”
The shape, a spiral with a diagonal slash ripped through it, smoldered softly until Miren, one of the witches most skilled in protection manipulation, raised her hand toward the monastery. Even the slightest movement of her hand made the rune spark in intensity. She turned to Isabel. “There’s a dome, thin, keyed to motion. It will trigger a reaction when someone attempts to cross. An early warning net—silent but smart.”
“Will it stop us?” Jess asked, staring into the gloom ahead. “Any chance of an offensive attack?”
“Not likely,” Miren offered quietly. “I’m not seeing any ground objects that would link to form a weapon. That said, we won’t know how big this thing is until we test the boundary, and it takes a lot of collective power to run these things. Whatever it’s keyed to, it’ll start something.”
“Then we don’t linger,” Jess said, finally saying something. “I have every sense that Max will get overexcited and…” She stopped, wincing, “Initiate the breach ritual too soon.”
She looked to Callie, which might have been a tactical error, but Callie’s brow furrowed, finding no humor in it. She shrugged. “I don’t have a reference point for that. Kinda happy about that.”
There was a breath of silence and then another snort from Tamsin. “Stars save me,” she whispered, biting into her glove to keep from laughing, “That was savage.”
Miren chuckled too, shaking her head. “Are you two always like this? Genuinely makes me feel underdressed.” Nerves were creeping in.
Isabel leaned in. “It’s still an issue,” she said softly. “Er, so I’m told, anyway.”
Callie grimaced. “Oooh, took one for the team?”
“Almost,” Isabel said, reframing the potential sacrifice, “I got him really worked up, and it was over before I had to commit to losing my knickers. He blamed his mum.”
Callie moved to catch Jess’s elbow, steadying her. The tension had eased by a hair. Enough to take a breath, but not enough for comfort.
“The rune marking,” young Hope said softly, not grasping the odd conversation, “it’s started pulsing.”
The oak’s glow deepened, the spiral flaring once like a heartbeat, and the air under the trees pressed in—wet, watching.
“Then we go,” Jess said flatly, ending the nervous banter.
“Let’s line up,” Isabel called out quietly, “Once we step in, prepare for anything.”
Suddenly, Callie was making her way down the line of witches, getting close and giving each a personal moment of encouragement. When she got to Isabel, Jess had already stepped ahead with Miren, eyes locked on the dark, reading the boundary like it might blink. Callie gently turned the redhead away from the others.
“We ready?”
“We’re ready, Callie. Have you seen anything else? Anything that suggests another …perspective?” Isabel’s eyes fluttered briefly.
Callie didn’t respond but leaned to kiss Isabel softly on the cheek. “Thank you. I know you’ll do your best.”
“Callie,” Isabel whispered, then tugged on her earlobe, “If the wind is just right…”
“The cavalry?” Callie asked, her eyes filling with tears.
Isabel put her curled fingers to Callie’s cheek, her smile soft and supportive. “And then some. We’ll celebrate when this is over.” Isabel glanced at the dark sky. “If the wind shifts,” she whispered, “you may hear them.”
“Yeah,” Callie nodded as words became difficult, “I need to concentrate. Get Jess not to worry.”
Before Isabel turned away, Callie’s eyes softened with quiet understanding. “Under all your dazzling effort…there’s another kind of beauty. One that doesn’t need all the show to be seen.”
Isabel’s breath caught for a moment. The witch looked at Callie, as if her words would pry further at the crack in Isabel’s spell armor. Then, in the next breath, she smiled, a touch softer than usual.
“Maybe,” Isabel murmured, her playful tone returning, “Not sure I’m ready to let anyone see that.” Her brow arched. “What did you see?”
“When I told you I’d see you in my dreams…” Callie began, then glanced over her shoulder, “Didn’t recognize you at first. Now I can’t look away…” Callie winked. “Our little secret. Cute birthmark, by the way—I saw it there.”
Isabel’s face flushed, a rare moment of vulnerability in the face of their mission. She laughed, though it was sharp, and there was a challenge in her eyes.
“You’re far more than just your armor, Isabel,” Callie offered, then, “In another time, we would have—”
“Let’s go then,” Isabel interrupted with a quiet resolve, her fire returning, “And, Callie,” she whispered so the other couldn’t hear, “Don’t worry about me. We’re all just playing our part tonight.” Isabel winked, her eyes flashing brighter than before, possibly ever. “Also…our little secret.”