She swallowed hard and they set off—with flashlights and a resolution that didn’t quite feel steely enough.
“You really believe the story?” Seth asked quietly as they reached the tree line. “That this is where Evanora got her magic?” His voice was strangely serious.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
She could practically hear his shrug.
“What exactly was the price of that magic?” Raquel asked in a whisper.
“Probably whatever’s left haunting this place,” Seth answered.
An owl hooted nearby, and Raquel let out a small noise. Seth positioned himself between them, a knife in his hand.
“What the hell, Seth. A knife isn’t going to work on what’s here.”
“Better safe than sorry” was all he said.
By the time they were through the thicket of trees, Sadie was sweating despite the cool air.
“Put these in your pocket,” she said, handing them each a few stems of vervain.
“We come in peace.” Seth let out a quiet laugh, reciting the symbolism of the flower. “It’s a ghost, Sadie, not an alien.”
“You remembered,” Sadie said in surprise.
“More than you might think, sister.”
There was something about the stillness of Rose Hill that made them draw closer together. No crickets chirped, the frogs were silent, and even the wind seemed to tiptoe. The smell of pine and wet earth grounded her, even when it felt like they were entering another dimension.
“Of course, the flowers had to grow at the top of this damn hill,” Seth huffed halfway up.
Normally Sadie would have sniped something back. But for the first time since he’d been back, it felt like nothing had changed. It felt like a dare they’d have done when they were younger. Like the time he’d dared her to draw on the neighbor’s garage. In red lipstick of all things. Never wanting to disappoint him, she’d scrambled across the lawn, heart beating at a wicked pace, and drew a dime-size heart in the far corner before sprinting back. The idea of getting in trouble was less terrifying than owning up to a failed dare. Seth, of course, had sauntered over and signed his name in large, looping letters.
Finally, they reached the plateau.
“Do the stars seem brighter from up here, or is it just me?” Raquel asked.
“I, for one, have never seen that constellation in my life,” said Seth, who’d spent his senior year obsessed with astronomy, dragging Sadie out every night to look though the telescope he’d spent so long saving for.
Sadie followed his finger to where he pointed to a particularly bright quadrant of stars.
And that’s when they heard it.
A low growling.
The same Sadie had heard from her garden only days ago.
No words, just that deep rumbling.
“Sadie, I think it’s time to get those flowers and get the fuck out of Dodge,” Seth said.
Without wasting a moment, her heart beating so hard it hurt, Sadie shone her light on the ground near the oak tree. There, growing at the base, was the buckwheat, their purple petals glinting otherworldly.
The closer she got to the tree, the stronger the presence grew, until her chest seemed to cave in with it. She hurriedly plucked several stems and stashed them in their bag.
“Do you think if I pull some up with the root, I’ll be able to grow them at home?” she whispered.
“Let’s debate that another day, shall we?” Seth’s back was to the tree, his eyes scanning the plateau. His tone was tight and clipped to mask his fear.
An icy chill spread across the ground, burrowing into their bones. The grass frosted over, turning crunchy beneath their feet.
And then the voice spoke. The words were drawn out, long and sharp as a blade.
“Get out,” it groaned.
Sadie’s stomach plummeted as her eyes went wide with terror. She wanted to run, but fear rooted her feet to the icy ground as that voice made her shiver. She turned her head a fraction of an inch and saw her own fear reflected in Raquel’s face, in her wide eyes and her mouth open in a perfect “o.” Seth’s skin had gone white as death as he clutched the useless knife in his hands.
The three looked at each other for a half second before running down the hillside. They stumbled over rocks and loose dirt and clumps of wet grass as the chill chased them with a fury that slid under their skin and threatened to stay there. Sadie slipped and Raquel grabbed her arm in a vicelike grip, pulling her back up and down the hill as their feet tripped over themselves.
They didn’t stop until the car doors slammed shut, locking them safely inside the car. The only sound was their labored breathing as the chill finally began to dissipate.
“All in all, I think that went well,” Seth panted out after a minute.
And Sadie couldn’t help it—she burst into laughter.
Raquel followed suit, and the two of them were laughing until tears ran down their cheeks while Seth shook his head in the backseat.
“Lunatics,” was all he said.
Sadie’s leg began to sting as the adrenaline wore off, and she realized her jeans were sticky with blood.
She dropped Raquel off, and by the time she walked up the front porch she was trying not to wince.
“What’s wrong?” Seth demanded.
“Scraped my leg on a branch when we were running, I think.”
“Come on,” he said, sighing.
He made her sit at the kitchen table while he pulled down supplies.
Sadie watched in surprise as he reached for the lavender, frankincense, and helichrysum and mixed them with a dollop of coconut oil.
“I’m not entirely useless,” he said when he saw her face.
“I’m just surprised you remember.” She pulled up her pant leg and winced as he smeared it on.
“Don’t be a baby.”
“Don’t be an ass,” she answered. But it was the friendly bickering they’d always shared, not the angry quarreling they’d done since he’d come home.
“So, what happens now?”
“Tomorrow I’m going to do the spell. The herbs will be ready, and I’ve got the flowers now.”
“Do you want help?”
“What?” she asked, even though she’d heard him perfectly.
“If it works, I don’t want you getting all the credit.” He shrugged.
“Sure,” she said, confused but grateful. “Come on—bed. We’ll do it first thing in the morning.”
It was strange following him upstairs the way she used to when they were younger. Her feet left a light trail of gray dust on every step, a fine powder from the walls around her heart that were slowly beginning to crumble.
The house was silent the next morning when Sadie rose with the sun.
“I changed my mind,” Seth groaned when she tried to wake him. “I don’t want to help you.”
“Too bad,” she said, yanking the covers off him. “Meet me in the garden.”
The brisk air brushed against her skin, waking her up fully. It was the coldest morning of the season so far, and she exhaled hot air into her cupped hands before rubbing them together. Excitement brushed along her skin like confectioners’ sugar. This was it.
She settled an old quilt on the cold ground and lined up the herbs: bay, fennel, and a clove from the bulb of garlic. The crushed blackberry thorns were in a small glass vial, and the Mount Diablo buckwheat next to it. The small piece of amber and stick of selenite glinted in the dawn light. And there, in a butter-soft leather pouch was the knot of Isis. Shaped like an ankh but with its arms curving down, it symbolized life and would be the talisman she bound the spell to.
The crunch of gravel heralded Seth’s arrival.
“Look at this,” he complained, breathing out a puff of air and pointing to the icy mist that formed there. “It’s too cold.”
“You volunteered as tribute, remember?”
“Yeah, well, I’m a dumbass.”
“You said it, not me. And there’s one more thing we need,” she told him.
“Let me guess, dragon tears? Maybe a phoenix feather?”
“An egg,”
“Chimera egg? Do we need to go to Siberia to get it? I hear their ghosts there are a little friendlier.”