World Weaver (The Devany Miller Series Book 4) (40 page)

Marantha lowered her hand. The new arrivals let go of their spells. Energy whistled in toward Kenda. The Anforsa screamed. She didn’t have time to do much more than that. I dropped into my Magic Eye to watch. Power drained from her, roaring out of her body like water off a cliff. The magic pooled at her feet and slowly seeped into the ground.

When the spell was done, Kenda stood vulnerable and plain. Her legs gave out and she fell to her knees, then collapsed on the ground in a puddle of her own magic.

Was she dead?

Two witches walked forward and checked. One nodded and then the both of them hauled her up with hands under her arms and dragged her toward me. I recoiled, not wanting to have anything to do with her, but they didn’t pause, passing me and disappearing into the Council Hall.

Marantha crossed to me, Dad at her side. They both looked pleased, very pleased.

They were also holding hands. I narrowed my eyes. Marantha and Dad?

“Did you find her?” Dad asked, sitting down beside me. He put one of his hands on my arm and pushed his magic into me, healing.

“Yes. She’s safe and sound in Odd Silver. Liam and Bethany are probably arguing right now over one thing or another.” As soon as I said it, I burst into tears, the stress of it all and the pain, fading quickly though it was, catching me hard. Dad held me and patted my back, telling me it was okay, okay, until I managed to pull myself together.

“Queen Nephele?” I asked, my words nasally because of the crying jag.

Marantha smiled tightly. “The Chythraul was worse.”

Neutria? I sat up straighter and searched the crowd, but didn’t see a spider anywhere.

“She stayed on the periphery. She said to tell you that she liked the power you shared with her and for that reason she will not eat you next time you meet.” Marantha’s eyes sparkled. “I think that’s high praise coming from one such as she.”

High praise indeed.

THIRTY-ONE

Between Marantha and Dad, Krosh and I got the full story. Marantha had gotten away from Kenda before the Anforsa could take her captive. Her friends hid her and they plotted how to get the drop on the power-mad woman. When Kenda returned from Bayladdy, she’d had Dad in tow. Marantha’s friends helped him escape and it was Dad who convinced the witches that they had to team up with their neighbors to defeat Kenda.

It had been a hard sell, but not as difficult without the Omphalos regulating the magic. Its sudden disappearance had opened a lot of eyes.

The witches split up and went in search of representatives of each race. Queen Nephele had considered killing my father, Dad said, a grin on his face, until she smelled him thoroughly and realized he was related to me. “She asked me a lot of questions about you, sweetheart. Wanted to know if you felt different lately.”

I frowned. She’d saved me from dying by giving me her blood, and that of her fellow fleshcrawlers. So far, I hadn’t felt any effects from that and I hoped I never would. “I’m good.”

“Yeah, well, she liked the idea of a coalition. The Chythraul was agreeable too. She said that her kind wouldn’t like her bargaining for them and would probably try to kill her, but she was too powerful for them to stop her.”

Oh Neutria. Never lacked confidence, ever. “She’ll be a good ally as long as you don’t ever look like food to her.”

“Kinda my feeling. Kept my guard up, but she kept her word. The Wydling we talked with said your man would be better suited to the coalition, but he was glad to step in while Kroshtuka was otherwise occupied.”

Krosh asked, “Yoroosh?”

“Yep, that’s his name.”

“He’s a good man. It might be a good idea to have more than one representative of each race at the table.”

“I don’t want to sit at a table with two fleshcrawlers and two Chythraul,” Dad said. “That sounds like a great way to get dead.”

I spoke up. “Nex should be at the next meeting. He’s not technically fleshcrawler, but he was once the king of the Swamps. Who was the carnicus master?”

“Man by the name of Friego. Hard, but his people speak highly of him.” Dad took his hand away. “You feeling any better?”

I nodded. Everything was sore, but I didn’t feel like I was burning anymore, so that was a bonus. “What’s going to happen to Kenda?”

“We’re going to put her on trial. She’ll get a legal representative and be allowed to speak in her defense in front of a jury of her peers. Don’t worry. She won’t wiggle out on a technicality.” Something in his voice made me very glad I wasn’t Kenda. Also, I was very thankful the decision to kill her had been taken out of my hands.

It was a relief.

“What are you going to do next, sweetheart?”

I shifted, laying my head on Krosh’s shoulder. “Take Arsinua and Bethy to Earth. Let the cops know some of what happened. Figure out how to tell the kids’ grandparents we’re moving. Give my notice at my job. Put the house for sale—or see if Travis wants to keep it.” I shrugged. “All the things.”

“You’ve decided to move to Midia then?”

His expression was inscrutable. I couldn’t tell if he was happy about my decision or not. I told myself it didn’t matter. I had to do what was best for me and the kids and right now, this felt right. “Yeah.”

“Oh honey, I’m glad.” The hug surprised me but I returned it just as strong. “It’s where you belong now.”

“Why couldn’t you have told me that sooner?”

He booped my nose with his finger. “You know as well as I do that decisions can only be made by the person affected by them.”

I muttered at him and he laughed. “Oh yeah? So, what’s with the handholding?”

Marantha colored, looking more flustered than I’d ever seen her.

“Even older men have needs, daughter dear.”

“Dad,” I said, not really wanting to hear about my father’s needs. Not those kinds of needs, anyway.

“Love, honey. I miss your mom every day. Goddess knows I do. Marantha is strong, fascinating, and she seems to think I’m kind of cute.”

“Cute?” Marantha’s tone was incredulous. “You’re too old to be cute.”

“Suave, then. Urbane. Sexy in a James Bond sort of way,” Dad said, grinning up at her.

She snorted.

Yeah, they sounded like they’d be good together. “Well, I hope it works out. It ought to keep you busy.”

We made plans to meet up in Odd Silver in a week’s time to celebrate being together as a family. I told Dad I’d ask Travis if he’d want to join us and left him there with his new girlfriend while Krosh and I went home to Odd Silver.

Bethany was playing with a couple girls her age. They were taking turns punching a hanging bag of sand, their pre-adolescent voices high as they yelled to power their punches. “Sorry to interrupt, kiddo, but we need to get home.”

“Do I have to?” The whine in her voice was so beautiful. It meant she was here and safe.

“Yes. We’ll be back. Don’t worry.”

“Bye Kyah. Bye Aster.” She trailed me, feet dragging. “Is talking to the cops gonna be scary?”

“Well, I’m hoping you won’t even have to. Come on, I’ll tell you more about it on the way.”

***

We ended up at the house, Bethany goggling at Dev Two and Liam Two, peppering them with questions only to look amazed when they answered correctly.

Travis wasn’t drunk, I was glad to see. He held Bethany long enough to make her squawk to be let free. When he finally listened, there were tears on his cheeks. “Thank God.”

“She’s home. Now we have to figure out how to get her through the interviews with the police.”

“Where’s Arsinua?” he asked, not responding to my comments.

“In the Slip.”

He cursed under his breath. “She was tortured there, you know.”

“I know that very well.” His startled gaze landed on me. I returned it, calmly, waiting.

“That’s wrong, Dev.”

“What she did was wrong,” I said. Bethy, sensing the tension, snatched up Cheeseweed and went upstairs to her room. “She’s in a cell, safe and sound. And she deserves every second she’s there. She kidnapped my daughter and she deserves to be punished for it.”

“And what about you, Dev?”

“What?”

My brother sat on the back of the couch. “What about what you deserve? What about the people whose souls you took?”

Damn Arsinua. Told Travis everything, had she? “They were already dead when I took them.” I didn’t add that Ravana had taken them from me as payment. “And if you think I haven’t been punished these past weeks searching for my daughter, then you’re not the man I thought you were.”

He didn’t answer me.

“Whatever. She’s going to jail here on Earth, whether you approve or not.”

I left him to stew and hooked to the Slip to find Ty and ask him about a Formless One for Bethy. “Can we alter her memory enough so that her kidnapping story seems plausible at least?”

“Partially. Any discrepancies could be considered trauma-based. You can’t just walk in with Arsinua in tow, you know. You need to let her and Bethany Two be found somewhere by the human police. Perhaps put them into a hotel and call in a tip.”

“Good idea.”

“The witch is in the basement.”

“Yes.” I forgot I hadn’t told him.

“And a pretty boy without a toe.”

“Yeah. Jax.”

“You’ve been busy without me,” he said, plucking up a strand of my hair to sift through his fingers.

“I kind of wanted you there when we were working on Jax. You have a natural talent for intimidation.”

“Who cut off his toe? You or your hyena?”

“Krosh.”

“Ah.”

I didn’t know what that meant and didn’t ask. “Formless one?”

He sketched a mocking bow. “But of course, Mistress.”

We made Bethy Two and while Ty worked on altering her memories, I took my Bethany back to Odd Silver. “Tell your brother and Krosh that I’ll be back as soon as I can. Love you, baby.”

“Love you too, Mom.” She squirmed away, racing across the village to find her friends.

I grabbed a sleeping Arsinua—knocked out with Ty’s help—and Bethy Two and took them to a hotel in Alliance, Nebraska. Instead of calling in a tip, I had Bethy Two call 911 and kept watch until she was in police custody.

It was done.

They would take her back to Omaha to reunite her with Dev and Liam Two. Arsinua would go to jail. They could maintain our lives until I could figure out the best way to tell Alice and Bill that we were leaving.

Hooking back to Odd Silver, I found my little family in the middle of a game of Drydock and Drifters. Lizzie was pitted against Liam, Krosh against one of Bethany’s friends, and Bethany against Mina. I stood in the shadows for a while and watched them, my heart overfilled with happiness.

It had taken a trip through hell to get to this moment and I wanted to memorize the looks of joy on my kids’ faces, on Krosh, Lizzie, and Mina.

My breathing slowed, my mind drifted, and I let myself get swept into the Dream space. The knife Krosh had given me appeared in my hand. A thick strand of energy spiraled away from my body to Earth. All I had to do was cut my ties and I could find something new here. A new life. A new love. A new start on a world I’d never guessed I’d look upon as home.

Had I figured anything out about myself? Did I know enough to feel confident severing that tie?

The story I’d told about Mrs. Lidecker came back to me. It had been a pretty simple choice then. Of course I had to save her. I couldn’t leave her lying on the floor in her home, maybe dying, just so I wouldn’t get in trouble for being someplace I wasn’t supposed to be.

That was me. That little girl who raced headlong into trouble. Maybe I didn’t know exactly who I was. Maybe I still didn’t like the idea of being an Originator and I balked at the idea of learning how to do that. Maybe I didn’t know what either side of me was really like. Even so, I knew who I was deep down.

I had courage, even though I often felt terrified. I had integrity, even if I’d made some choices I wasn’t proud of. I had stains on my conscience, sure and I needed to figure out how to forgive myself for them, needed to figure out how to change so that I didn’t have to walk through life feeling guilty.

I was Devany Miller: mother, daughter, Originator, witch, Wydling, fleshcrawler, honorary Chythraul. I was all those things.

I was me.

I brought the knife down and cut the cord. Then I emerged from the Dreamscape and joined my family.

About the Author

This world needs more readers. Readers are open-minded, imaginative, and more empathetic. Picking up a book, whether one of Jen's fantasy-fueled novels or someone else's thriller, puts another person's perspective of the world in your hands. (Unless you're telepathic, then you've already experienced being in another person's head. Good thing about books? Organized thoughts. Bad thing about people's heads? Unorganized chaos, judging from my own stream.)