Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Since I wasn't going to leave my bedroom anytime soon, and Sawyer would start to lose his hair if I kept petting him, I turned to my foraging bag and dragged it out from under the bed covers and onto my lap, displacing the cat. "There's gotta be something in here that can help me."

A potion, a spell, some little green or hearth witchery thing I could use instead of relying on the life energy of plants now that the ember was gone. Out came the notebook, the empty jar of masking sand, half a vial of Seeking Spell, a selenite crystal ringed in tiger's-eye, half a dozen other odds and ends, plus the jug of cold milk and two apples from yesterday.

"I'm not going to starve!" Sawyer pounced on the jug of milk with a jubilant trill.

"We're going to ration that," I told him, offering him an apple instead. He flattened his ears. "Suit yourself."

The apple peel snapped under my teeth, flooding my mouth with sweet juice. As I crunched down, I rearranged the plethora of knickknacks across the duvet where I could see them all.

There were a lot of spell ingredients here, little vials and sachets stuffed with whatever I'd foraged, but without a working hearth and at least a pot, if not a cauldron, I couldn't create any potions. So it had to be something I already had on hand. Well, good luck with that, Meadow. Let's see if you can release the curse on your magic with a crocheted pillow and some bleached-out parasite jewelry—

I paused in my chewing when I caught sight of the black tourmaline crystal. It looked… dull. Or at least, duller. Lifting it to eye level, I carefully slid my perceptions into its inky depths.

It'd been used .

Half of the stored energy was gone.

"Sawyer," I exclaimed. "Did you see me use this? Magic doesn't simply leak out of a crystal, and it was full when I tried to use it on you." I winced. "Sorry about that, by the way."

The tomcat shook his head. "I didn't see you use it," he answered. From his tone, it sounded like he was going to elaborate, but then he just didn't. Instead he batted at an edge of paper birch that was curling away from the notebook binding.

With a flustered huff, I bit back down on the apple and continued sorting. I stopped chewing entirely when I unearthed the pristine moonflower from where it had been obscured by the crocheted sunny-side-up-egg pillow.

Shoving the apple into my mouth so I could use both hands, I frantically scooped up the flower and yanked the notebook out from under Sawyer's paws. With the moonflower poised on my knee, I thumbed aside the thorn latch that kept the notebook's covers closed and flipped through the pages.

"Where is it?" I muttered around the apple. "Where is it?"

Sawyer's paw slapped down on a page, right over the topmost petal of a sketch I'd made of the moonflower.

I took another huge bite of apple before placing it on the nightstand. "Good kitty." Then I smoothed down the pages and hunched over to read the entry left of the sketch:

The moonflower needs to be imbued with magic to activate the entirety of its healing properties. Flora says—

"Wait! My Flora? But she's a honey badger!" I looked to the tabby tomcat for confirmation, but of course he didn't know her like I did. Sawyer shrugged, confirming my suspicions.

Flora says there is no set amount—just feed it magic until the entire flower is glowing. Then add it to milk—fresh and warm is best for full potency—and submerge yourself to heal a corrupted magical core. Alternatively, sprinkle the infused milk over contaminated areas to dispel dark magic residue, blight, infestation, etc.

Note: can cause hallucinations. I saw Violet—

"Ha-cha!" I cried, springing upright on the bed and scrambling to catch the moonflower I'd launched into the air. Just the person—ghost?—I needed to talk to. If I truly was her heir, she would know a thing or two about becoming one with my oak tree. And maybe the moonflower would release the rest of my magic. Corrupted core wasn't the same as a cursed core , but you never knew. "Sawyer, get the milk!"

"I don't have thumbs," he reminded me, tail swishing. "And that's only enough to dunk your face in, if that!"

"Then it will have to do."

"How are you going to heat it?" he asked. "The fireplace won't light, and the entry says it needs to be fresh and warm. That milk's not the freshest and it's certainly not warm. You don't want to waste the moonflower."

Well the fire in the great hall wouldn't obey me, and the one in the kitchen only roused at prescribed times so Mrs. Bilberry could cook, and I didn't want to leave my bedroom and run into Ossian, anyway, so there had to be something in here that could be of use.

Chewing on my bottom lip, I surveyed the room, catching sight of the candelabra with its many stubs of yellow candles. Then I backed up a step to peer into the bathroom, right at that shiny copper sink basin.

Sawyer hunched into a ball at the sight of my half-crazed yet triumphant smile. "Wh-what?"

I snatched up the candelabra, the moonflower, the milk, then stuffed the tomcat under my arm before marching to the bathroom. "C'mon, little cat. Let's go jury-rig a spell."

With the sink stoppered and the lit stubs of the candles ringed all around the basin, their flames engorged by Sawyer's lumosa dilitare incantation, the milk pooled inside was just starting to steam. By the Green Mother, it was so good to get back to my roots again, to perform actual spells .

Very, very carefully, I infused the sole moonflower with green magic. While my core was still suppressed by the remaining net, I was still stronger than I had been before, and I didn't want the flower to burst.

Sawyer's amber eyes widened as the petals glowed with an ethereal, silver light.

"It's ready," I breathed.

The cat hopped down from where he perched on the sink counter and trotted into the bedroom. "I'll keep watch."

"Thanks, kitty."

The moonflower sparkled in the candlelight as it dropped like a falling star into the milk. On contact, the silvery pearlescent light transferred to the white liquid, and the moonflower sank below the surface like a stone.

I didn't hesitate, gripping the edges of the sink and lowering my face after the flower. Not knowing what to expect and fearful to be weighed down by the thought that this was a fruitless endeavor, I chose to relax.

Intent is nine-tenths of magic , a distant memory reminded me. Well, my intent was for this to work, however that looked.

With one exhale, I released every reservation, every inhibition, and just allowed myself to be . The oak tree of my magic shivered, and a familiar voice said, "Hello, child."

She came from the tree, literally lifted from the trunk like a flock of peppered moths and condensed into a form I knew I'd seen before. Long black hair swirling like ink dropped onto wet paper, ivy-green eyes glowing, dark fertile soil clinging to her hands and bare feet and legs. Her dress of sewn leaves, so much like the links of the chain mail net shrouding the canopy of my tree, swayed around her knees in the same current that moved her hair. Terrifying in her wildness. Beautiful because of it.

"Violet. Is this… am I hallucinating? Are you truly here, or am I just talking to an aspect of myself?"

She cocked her head to the side like a raven examining a beetle it was about to devour. "Yes." Then she pinched my cheeks with one hand, the long nails digging into my flesh. Moss and the smell of autumnal rot filled my nostrils. "Do not waste the power of the moonflower on trivial questions, child. You insult us both."

She released me, but she remained disturbingly close, her glowing eyes tracking over my face.

"I'm in trouble," I told her.

"Yes," she readily agreed, following my gaze to the oak tree behind her. "You've been purposefully stunted, kept weak to be less noticeable."

Stunted? That oak tree was enormous. I pointed to the net covering the canopy. "No, my grandmother cursed me; that's why I don't have full access to my magic. To my full potential."

Violet pulled back, arching a black eyebrow as she crossed her lean arms over her chest.

When she didn't say anything, I blurted. "Right?"

"I fade and you continue to waste time with assumptions and pointless queries."

To the point, then. "How do I become ?"

The grin that spread across her dark lips was positively catlike. "My seed is not wasted, after all. Look at the tree."

I obeyed, my gaze immediately narrowing on its trunk to a spot just under the amber cat silhouette. "I never noticed it having one of those knotty holes in it before." It was akin to the kind that squirrels or owls used to make their nests, only it was glowing—a window to its heart. The heart that had come alive within it truly burned now, as if it had its own hearth ember inside its trunk.

"You've not noticed many things about your magic before," came a dry and slightly judgmental reply. She softened slightly. "Though, much has been concealed from you." Violet swept her hand across the tree, and the knotty hole blazed red at the same time the roots flared green and the leaves shone white. Lines of blue raced along its entire length like veins for only a moment, then the strange demonstration dissipated, and all returned to their normal golden-green glow.

"I didn't know it could do that!"

Ignoring my excited outburst, she lifted her hand once more and instructed, "Now take heed." The power she commanded made mine rise in exact mimicry of hers. My fingers splayed achingly wide, obscuring the oak tree's canopy just as my arm did its trunk, not unlike the moon passing in front of the sun during a solar eclipse.

"Like a shifter, there is no distinction between beast and man. They are one. Like the fae, they are their magic." Violet's power kept my arm extended, but she moved to float in front of me once more. "They are each born with an innate sense of their true self. You were not allowed to embrace yours, instead molded and taught to be something other than yourself."

Anger flared deep within me, my thoughts turning to my grandmother, and our mutual ancestor tsked in disapproval. Then the first Hawthorne extended a single finger to press against my chest. "Decide your heart and the rest will follow. It is already waiting for you."

The pressure of her touch lessened as she became less corporeal, dissolving into mist.

"But the curse—"

Violet was already gone, and my lungs were in desperate need of air.

I jerked away from the sink, slinging milk over the bathroom tiles and gasping for breath. Frigid castle air, laced with the smoke of spent candles, caused me to cough and sputter, and Sawyer came racing in just as I fumbled around and found the hand towel.

A warm rough tongue dried off my forehead as I swept the milk from my cheeks and chin. Sawyer then cleaned off his whiskers and asked, "You alright? Did it work?"

"‘Decide your heart and the rest will follow. It is already waiting for you,'" I relayed to him.

The tip of his tail gave an irritated flick. "That's it? No helpful spell or a tea of special magical herbs or an instruction manual? She knows you're a witch, right?"

I pointed at the cold milk currently draining from the sink. "You wanna talk to her? Get a second opinion?"

The tabby tomcat shook his head. "I'd rather not meet the woman responsible for creating your grandmother, thank you very much."

"Violet created me too, you know."

"That only shows she has tastes as volatile as the weather. No thank you." Sawyer pricked his ears. "So what now?"

"Well, we missed breakfast, and I can't think on an empty stomach, especially intrinsic thoughts. I say we sneak out for a bite then go to the courtyard. If I'm going to contemplate my heart, whatever that means, then I'm going be a good little witch and do it in the fresh air under that willow tree with my friend."

"So long as your friend can hide in the foraging bag, he's all for it," the cat said, hopping down and heading straight for the aforementioned (and now clean) bag. "Also, your friend would like some chicken for breakfast, if it's not too much trouble."