Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

GA'REK

I am furious.

My Piper has spent so much time and energy on creating the most beautiful event I've ever seen, and now she's reduced tears and trembling frustration by a trio of forest gods no one can remember even hearing of before now.

"I'm right behind you," I tell her. "Let me just say good night to Caelan."

She nods, sniffling, and Wren shoots me a knowing look over her head. "Come on, Piper, I'll walk with you."

Her skirt rustles as she moves away, the once-festive and overfull tent now near empty, save for a few wide-eyed stragglers. Most of the vendors hustle as they attempt to close up their stalls.

"What magic do you have left?" I hiss at him.

Caelan's expression smooths out. "Do you want to strike a bargain, Ga'Rek?"

I roll my eyes towards the lanterns suspended from the colorful waxed canvas stretched across the rooftops. Getting that right was a headache all on it's own, and now we can't even enjoy the night.

"I'll help," Nerissa, the black-haired witch, says. Her eyes glitter with anger, a muscle in her temple twitching. "What do you need?"

"I want to save the festival," I say, smashing one fist into my palm.

Her eyes go wide in alarm. "No need to hurt yourself. Goodness gracious."

"What can we do? I want everyone hear in the morning. A holiday. The festival. All the vendors. A Wild Oak Woods council meeting," I thunder. "A solution for Piper."

"Not just for Piper," Nerissa says, her lip curling. "A solution for all the unmated witches of the coven, I think you mean."

"Is there even a town council?" Caelan asks, looking thoughtful. "I don't recall Wren ever mentioning one."

"I…" Nerissa's voice trails off. "I don't think there is."

Something clicks. I blink. "And Piper has lived here the longest? Of anyone in town?"

A beat passes, where she's silent, and Caelan blows out a breath, his eyebrows shooting up.

"Of the witches, at least," Nerissa finally answers.

"We need to know the last time there was a coven here." I rake a hand through my hair. "There is a reason there wasn't one, and there is a reason there is now."

"History repeats itself," Caelan says slowly. "The inn?"

"The inn," I agree. "The waypoint. There must be?—"

"A locus of power here," Ruby pipes up. "It's pulling individuals towards this location for a reason. The… three that showed up," she trips over the words, fear in her eyes, "they're a part of whatever is about to happen, whatever is happening."

"And you think it's happened before." Caelan glances sidelong at me.

"I can research. That's what I'm skilled at," Ruby says.

"We convene a meeting and enjoy the festival tomorrow," Nerissa agrees, raising an eyebrow. "We see if anyone is around who remembers the last coven, or if their grandparents do, or great-grandparents, and we hope one of them kept a journal."

Ruby nods in agreement.

"I can send a magical summons," Nerissa says, nodding. "And Ruby and I can work up a spell together to keep the food fresh."

"I'd like to help," Violet says quietly.

Hope begins to bud in my chest, and I inhale, nodding. "Good. We work together. We will need each other."

"I hope that's not the case. I was so beginning to like it here," Caelan says drily.

We all exchange irritated looks.

"Oh, lighten up, you lot." The fae rolls his eyes. "Of course we will work together. But you can count on me absolutely not taking anything seriously."

"Even Wren?" I ask.

He bares his fangs, and I laugh. Even Violet smiles.

"That's what I thought," I tell him, satisfied. "Pretend all you want, friend, I know there's a heart of gold in that wily body."

"I have had enough of this." He sniffs. "I won't be disparaged in front of my mate's coven."

Ruby covers her mouth, and emits a barking laugh that sounds something like a cough as Caelan stalks off, presumably to find his mate.

"We will weather this storm," Nerissa says somberly, her eyes glowing with a power that sends a cold shiver down my spine. "We will weather it, as the ones who came before us did. But make no mistake about it, a storm is building."

Violet goes pale, and Ruby throws an arm around her waist. "Don't worry. Nerissa loves to make dramatic proclamations."

Nerissa scowls, which makes the corners of Violet's lips twitch.

A chuckle escapes me despite the dire proclamation of the three forest gods.

"We'll make sure the festival is ready for tomorrow morning," Ruby assures me. "Go take care of Piper. We all know how hard she worked to make this happen. We won't let her efforts —or yours— go to waste."

My throat gets tight. "She's lucky to have you. We both are."

The witches only smile and shoo me off, beginning to discuss the details of how to make the festival go on tomorrow without a hitch.

I rush down the cobblestone streets to the Pixie's Perch and Piper's home, where the rest of my heart is waiting. A wicked cold wind blows from the south, shaking the trees that surround the small village until they scatter into the sky. Red and orange, they dance along the smooth stones.

The noises of Wild Oak Woods continue to surprise me. The sheer music of it; the wind in the leaves, the laughter and conversation of the creatures that live here, the conversations in the café. It's so different than the Underhill's mausoleum-like quiet.

The Dark Queen's Court was always taut with unspoken fear, hushed whispers and the cruel pronouncements made by the fae who held the Unseelie in her thrall.

My jaw clenches, and I quicken my pace, hunching slightly in an effort to avoid the icy wind blowing down the street.

I will not return to the Underhill.

This Wild Oak Woods is my home now, and I will protect it.