The Curse of Dark Root: Part Two (Daughters of Dark Root Book 4) (14 page)

The energy surrounding the closet came alive. It was almost palpable, and whether it was the door that throbbed or my heart, I couldn't tell. The image of Armand––standing inside a doorway, holding a feather balanced against a human heart––returned to me.

“Daddy, you son of a bitch,” I said, turning the knob. “If you’re responsible for this, not even the Netherworld will be able to hide you from me.”

A blast of foul air jetted out from the closet, staggering me backwards. I covered my nose with my arm and stepped inside. I didn't turn on the light. Spirits always preferred the darkness.

It was a small closet, though it rapidly expanded outwards around me. I found myself standing in the middle of an endless dark void. I recognized this place. The curse had taken me here, trapping me between realms, and now my child had brought me back.

Small points of glittering light blinked from all directions, like exits on a freeway, competing for my attention. I understood that each light led to another tunnel, each containing another thousand tunnels. If I took the wrong one, I might be trapped forever.

“Montana!” I called into the nothingness, my breath rolling out like fog.

One light flickered in response, broadening to the size of my hand. I went to it, sensing the eyes of the dead on me as I passed by. I heard their whispers, their laughs, and their moans.

As at Sycamore Manor, the light became its own door, now large enough to step through.

Was Montana inside?

I reached my arm in. It was colder than anything I could imagine, as if reaching into liquid ice.

“Montana?”

Inside, a baby cooed. Its coo turned into a cry.

I stepped through the portal with one foot. Glacially cold air stabbed my leg, snaking up my body, edging its way into my heart.

“Maggie! Stop!”

A firm hand grabbed me, yanking me back into this world. Ruth Anne.

“Montana's in there,” I said, fighting her off. “We never fully sealed the portal.”

“No, Maggie.” Ruth Anne shook her head. “We found him. Merry’s got him.”

I didn't wait for an explanation. I sprinted past her, down the stairs, and into the living room. Near the window, Merry held my son, stroking his hair as he rooted against her shoulder.

“My baby!”

“He's hungry,” Merry said. “I'll make him a bottle.”

She handed him over. He looked into my eyes and yawned. I resisted the urge to squeeze him, fearing I’d break him with the intensity of my relief. “Merry, thank you. Where was he?”

Merry threw up her hands and shook her head in bewilderment. “In his bassinet.”

“That’s not possible! I tore that bed apart.”

“I know.” She gave me a strained smile and brushed a loose piece of hair from my face. “I'm not sure what happened, but he's back and he's safe. That's all that matters.” She bit her lip and scanned the room warily. “For now.”

“Do you sense any presences?” I asked.

“No, not a thing.”

I kissed Montana's head. He smelled like chocolate. And roses.

Ruth Anne came to my side, her face grim. “Mags, you should know we found something in his crib.”

I didn't want to know. I brushed past her on my way to the sofa.

“It was in his hand,” she said, catching me by the arm.

She opened her palm, revealing a tuft of orange cat hair.

ELEVEN

Hello, Goodbye

“GET IT OUT of here! All of it!” I pointed to the pile of junk on the coffee table, and to the stack of boxes near the door.

We’d spent the morning collecting everything remotely related to witchcraft––baubles, trinkets, tarot cards, photos, pendulums, even Merry’s teas. As my final act, I stuffed the leather globe case into a box where I would never have to see them again.

“You sure, Mags?” Ruth Anne asked, clinging to her collection of paranormal romance books and ghost hunting supplies. “If whatever took Montana comes back, we might need documentation, or a way to track it.”

Merry nervously smoothed her ponytail. “Don’t scare her, Ruth Anne. We don’t know if something took Montana. All we know is that he disappeared.”

“And came back with a big chunk of cat hair,” Ruth Anne countered. “That can’t be good.”

All I knew for sure was that magick was involved. Dark magick. And all the stuff in this house was like a giant beacon, drawing it in.

“Yes, get rid of all of it,” I said, opening the door.

Ruth Anne blinked against the sun, then reluctantly set her equipment bag onto the porch. “Books, too?” I rolled my eyes and pushed an empty box towards her. Ruth Anne exhaled and gently placed her stack of novels inside.

“It feels better in here already,” I said, breathing in.

Merry looked dubiously around the near empty room. “If you say so, Maggie.” She lifted Mother’s spell book and placed it at the top of the heap. “This is all just temporary. As soon as we figure out what happened to Montana, we’ll come up with a game plan.”

I put my son in his baby swing and wound it up. “Maybe,” I said, half-heartedly. “If spells only work on people that are susceptible, I refuse to be susceptible.”

“How will that help Montana?’ Ruth Anne asked. “Howdy doesn’t know anything about spells.”

“Don’t call him Howdy.”

“Doody’s more accurate,” Eve said, entering through the open door. She turned to Ruth Anne and handed her a Styrofoam cup from a coffee cart downtown. “The only Goodwill I could find is in Linsburg.”

“We are not taking any of this to Goodwill!” Merry threw her hands in the air, pacing. “This is our history. We’re not getting rid of any of it, understood?” She stopped, pointing her mom-finger at each of us in turn.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Ruth Anne said as Merry stomped off.

“What got into her panties?” Eve asked. “Not a man, I’m guessing.”

“Not unless she’s got one locked in the basement,” I said, immediately regretting it. “Merry has a hard time getting rid of things.”

“I don’t know why. It’s all clutter. And who knows from which dark corners of the world Mom and her coven-cronies dug it up? This stuff is probably dripping with dark magick.” Eve’s eyes wandered to my bracelet. “What about that? If anything has bad juju on it, it’s probably Mom’s bracelet.”

I twisted the crystal bracelet on my wrist. I hadn’t removed it since I first put it on. But Eve was right––if anything was a magical beacon, it was Mother’s Circle. I pulled on it, but it wouldn’t slide over my wrist.

Merry returned wearing a checked apron and a softer expression, though her eyes narrowed as I continued to twist on the bracelet.

“What?” I asked her.

She placed her fingers on the bracelet and frowned. “The energy seems off. It doesn’t hum anymore. It’s almost dormant.” She peered closer. “And look, Maggie. There are more cracks in the crystal––cracks that I’m sure weren’t there before.”

I lifted it to my face, inspecting the bracelet closer than I had in a long while. “Ah, hell!”

Sure enough, there were several new splinters I hadn’t noticed before. They ran around the circumference of the band, nearly connecting at the ends. As much as I didn’t want it on my wrist, knowing that the bracelet was continuing to decay disconcerted me. A bad omen, for sure.

“Don’t worry,” Merry said, gently touching my arm. “I’m sure it’s just natural erosion.”

Eve smirked, folding her arms. “It’s a bracelet Merry, not the Grand Canyon.”

“I’m just saying she shouldn’t worry,” Merry said. “It may break off on its own soon.”

“Like a bad tooth,” Ruth Anne agreed, finishing her coffee.

I rubbed the band. Jillian said the bracelet may have saved me during my time in the Netherworld. “Maybe this thing has been protecting me all along.”

“Might want to get some Gorilla Glue then,” Eve said.

I massaged the smooth crystal, wondering if it was something I should fear or protect.

Ruth Anne lifted the heaviest box and stepped out onto the porch. “Any more prices you want to slash at
Maggie’s Going out of Business Emporium
?”

I looked around. The house looked the same but cleaner, and the energy felt lighter. Looser. I wiped my hands on my shirt. “Nope. I think that’s about it.”

“How about some clothes?” Eve added. “Are you sure you don’t want to get rid of your wardrobe? I know some orphans who might want to donate them to worse-off orphans.”

“I’m fine. By the way, Hooters called. They want their orange shorts back.”

“They did?”

I smiled.

“Can we at least keep the brooms?” Merry asked, then snapped her mouth closed. I had forgotten about them. I went to the broom closet and collected them all. “Guess not,” she said, as I handed them over. “Good thing we still have a vacuum.”

They each took an armful of relics, old and new. We hadn’t gotten everything, though. The ‘secret room’ was still overrun, but I’d lock the door and sprinkled salt around the threshold. I planned to do one final protection ritual in that room, as well as close the portal in the nursery, followed by an overall house smudging. And then my days of witchcraft would be behind me.

I watched as the others loaded Merry’s car. I would stay behind. The less I knew about where they deposited the stuff, the better.

Ruth Anne saluted me before climbing into the sedan. Merry gave me a warm smile. They drove away, leaving Eve behind. I joined her on the porch.

“Looks like the only witchy things left in the house are us,” Eve said, grinning.

“I’m not a witch.”

“You can shave a cat, but it’s still a cat. An ugly cat, but a cat nonetheless. Speaking of,” she said, leaning against a pillar. “Still no sign of Maggie Cat?”

“None. We combed this damned house again today.”

“Cats are resilient,” Eve said. “I wouldn’t worry.”

“I’m trying not to, but the timing is just too coincidental.”

“Coincidences happen, Maggie. Even in Dark Root. Even to witches.”

We both knew she was trying to make me feel better. Things were happening in the world; things we will never see. It all happens behind a curtain.

In short, Eve was wrong.

AS FAR AS I could tell, the cleanse was working. The next two days were both boring and unremarkable, which I welcomed. I even began to feel better, though I couldn’t tell if it was real or just wishful thinking. Still, I felt stronger, more in control. The best way to fight magick was not with more magick, I’d learned, but with its absence.