She closed her eyes and concentrated on the living being under her hand. Thoughts swirled like the scattered leaves, and her mind was clogged up like a drain. Disparate pieces of information filtered through the piles. Ava’s petty vindictiveness against Lettie and fear of the lake. Then the transference from one heart to another through touching the tree. The itch in her hand from the sliver of trunk grew hotter as though she had picked up the kettle from the range without using a cloth as insulation.
In her mind she formulated the one question she most needed help with. How did a nurturing soul defeat one consumed by avarice? The same answer kept replaying in Dawn’s mind, no matter how she worded the question.
Sacrifice.
Dawn severed the connection with the tree and rubbed her palm. The sliver seemed to have burrowed back into her flesh, and it would take a needle and a bit of digging to remove it. Combined with the pieces from Ava’s vine that had pierced her skin, Dawn felt more wood than flesh. As she picked up a rake to clear fallen leaves, she mulled over the glimpses shown her by the Ravensblood.
The men laboured all day while Nurse Hatton ensured they were kept fed and watered. A steady stream of men wheeled barrows of dirt back through the maze to dump by the entrance. By dusk, they had dug a trench four feet deep and five feet wide around the outer edge of the garden room. The Ravensblood now stood on an island, and all it needed was the surrounding water.
Jasper shook himself free of his stone cladding and returned to his human form. Then he dismissed the men, thanking for them their hard work and giving them the rest of the week off on full pay. He turned to Dawn. “Now what would you have us do?”
Dawn surveyed the family. Elijah was still in his gargoyle form protecting his aunt. “I think it would be better if Hatton, Hector, and Dr Day were safely away from here. I doubt we will be able to convince Elijah to leave, as much as I would prefer he wasn’t here.”
Jasper gave a soft laugh. “The lad does seem somewhat stubborn.”
Amid much grumbling, they convinced the others to wait outside the maze. The doctor looked particularly rebellious as he picked up his black bag and stared at Lettie with worry pulling at his brows and moustache.
“Jasper will let you know the instant it is over, we promise,” Dawn reassured them as they walked under the arch toward the towering hedges. Then she laid a hand on Jasper’s arm as dusk merged with full dark. “You said she summons you, but is the reverse possible? Can you call her?”
He drew a breath as though something pained him. “Yes.”
“Let’s light the lanterns first.” They had hung lights from the Ravensblood’s boughs and now they lit the wicks, giving the maze’s private central area a romantic and festive feel at odds with what they were about to do.
Jasper drew a deep breath and shifted form. Granite appeared from the thin air and encased him. Then he knelt, one fist to the ground and his head tucked to his chest. His wings arched over his crouched body.
He whispered something under his breath, over and over. They were ancient words that Dawn couldn’t discern and yet they tugged at her. Her body wanted to go to him, but she held herself apart. His summons was for another.
A wind rustled leaves and made a low moan as it whipped around them. The ravens roosting in the trees squawked and rose as one, creating a black cloud that blotted out the emerging stars in the night sky. The yew hedge undulated like an ocean heaving in a squall. One part of the hedge shook, and then a shape detached from the dense greenery and stepped onto the lawn.
Ava.
The embodiment of the garden’s rotten heart trod over the unkempt grass. Leaves fluttered from her foliage and drifted to the ground. A waft of decomposing debris swirled around her. Her bark shifted as she moved like airy fabric that hugged her form. Dawn tried but failed to see the arresting young woman who had captivated Julian over forty years ago.
The creature was fixated on Jasper as it stepped down into the trench and crossed to the other side. She climbed out, stopped before him, and spread her arms that turned into branches with twig fingers. She was tall in this form, only a little short of the gargoyle’s seven feet. When she spread her branches, she created darkness around her. Behind her, thick black vines trailed from the hedge to her skirts, an umbilical cord anchoring her to the maze.
Dawn stood next to Jasper and reached for his hand as he rose.
“You dare bring her before me?” Ava’s voice rasped like bark rubbing against a branch, and her leaves rustled.
Dawn stared at knot holes that gleamed black and served as Ava’s eyes. “Your reign is over, Ava. I have come to release you.”
She laughed and her hair foliage shook. “This is my domain. He is my Warder. You are a bug that I will squash, or shall I have our children destroy you from the inside?” Her branch hand formed into a fist that she twisted in the air.
Dawn doubled over as pain tore through her body. Fire snakes writhed under her skin and light danced before her eyes. She wrapped her arms around her torso and cried out, trying to contain the vine shredding her from the inside.
“Dawn!” The gargoyle reached for her hand.
She grabbed his hand and squeezed, grateful he was stone and she wouldn’t hurt him as she funnelled all the pain into bearing down and gaining control of her body.
“Now, Lettie,” Dawn yelled between gritted teeth.
Lettie jumped into the trench and raised her hands. A shimmer flashed around the clearing as she revealed her undine form. Her body became a cascade of blue, silver, and grey as she poured herself into the moat. She called more water from beneath the ground, and the two sources met in a crash. As Lettie commanded the water to pour forth, her hair splayed and flowed around her as though it drifted on an unseen current. Waves hit one another as water completely filled the trench, and the tree was isolated on its island.
“No!” Ava hopped closer to the tree, away from the lap of the water. Her hand dropped and released Dawn from the agony churning inside her.
Dawn drew deep gasps of air as the pain subsided.
The thick black tentacles that ran between Ava and the hedges were now underwater in the trench.
The tree creature’s knot holes narrowed on Dawn and she flung out an accusing arm. “You cannot take it from me. It is all mine!” She lunged for Dawn, but Jasper wrapped a stone hand around a trailing branch, halting her forward movement.
Ava hissed and twisted in his grip. She lashed out with her other hand, raking sharp twig nails over Jasper’s shoulder and chest.
On the other side of the moat, Elijah appeared with a bucket. He walked along Ava’s umbilical roots, tipping the bucket as he went and dribbling kerosene along the length of exposed vines. Then he dropped the bucket and picked up a square object that glinted silver in the lamp light. He knelt and struck the flint, the spark leapt from container to kerosene, and in an instant, blue flame flashed along the coated length.
Ava whirled and screeched at her son as fire licked at her roots. “Fools!”
Then she turned back to Jasper and her form twisted to a more curvaceous outline. The hand that had scratched Jasper now stroked his chest. Her voice dropped low and raspy as she sought to entice rather than fight. “Come to me Jasper, join me as we always do under the tree.”
Ava rose up before them. Her trunk grew and lifted her higher, until she towered over Jasper and he was forced to let go of the branch he had held onto. She opened her arms and beckoned with twig fingers.
Jasper folded his arms over his chest as his wings spread behind him. “No. I am bound to Dawn by the Cor-vitis, and your reign is over. You have two options: You can either relinquish your hold on our sanctuary peaceably, or we will forcibly remove you.”
Her form curled and twisted into a deformed trunk. “It’s mine! All of it is mine and no one will take it from me. I took his years, and I will have yours too.”