Chapter 13 Tasmanian Weaver Ants

The three witches and Nate sat in a tight circle, a safe distance from the crimson-infected tree, with their lanterns piled in the middle, like a safely contained campfire.

"You're saying . . ." Scarlett was having trouble getting her head around this new information "...that tree is . . . high?"

"Not literally, of course." Luna shrugged. "But that's how it felt—like I was trying to have a heart-to-heart chat with a drunk. That oak was not making an ounce of sense, that's for sure. The dragonflies are interfering with the power of the tree, making its magic erratic and unpredictable. We're lucky it's only the one tree affected."

"For now ," Delilah emphasized. "I don't want to think about the entire grove being under the influence of these flies. So, what's our next move?"

"A pot of coffee?" suggested Scarlett. "Or long showers sometimes help."

"How about a nice greasy cheeseburger?" Nate offered.

"Oh yeah, now you're talking."

Delilah rolled her eyes. "If you two aren't going to take this seriously, maybe you should go home."

"Sorry, Del."

"Hey, it's just our entire town's magic supply under threat. No need to get worked up about it."

"I said sorry, Del, jeez."

"It's imperative to cleanse this tree," Delilah said. "Luna, what do you suggest?"

"Hang on," Scarlett interrupted. "You mean right now? Shouldn't we get Mama, at least?"

Delilah frowned. "I am certainly not running home to ask mommy for permission to fix such a basic problem. Can you imagine her reaction? We'd never hear the end of it. No, we are three adult witches, Scarlett—even if you are out practice. We can handle a bunch of dragonflies. What do you say, Luna. Any suggestions?"

"Well . . . remember I was telling you about the weaver ants in Tasmania? They create these giant nests high in the trees. And what those witches do is conjure this very particular smoke that the ants absolutely hate. The smoke causes them to flee, and then you can kind of herd them where you want. I could create the smoke, and you two could cast a binding net all the way around the tree. The bugs will flee the smoke and fly right into the net."

"What sort of smoke will work?" Delilah asked.

"No clue—this is going to be trial and error. But I have to say, I agree with Delilah. I don't think we should wait around for the infestation to spread. Any minute now, those flies are going to decide the rest of the grove looks pretty tasty, and Oak Haven could lose control of magic completely."

Delilah nodded. "Okay, let's get started. Scarlett, why don't you and I set up over—"

"Hang on." Scarlett's eyes were wide and haunted. "Wait a second. What are we doing here?"

Her sisters look at one another, then back at Scarlett.

"Saving Oak Haven?" offered Luna.

"Seriously?! Am I the only one who remembers the last time we were out here, performing cooperative magic to ‘save' Oak Haven?"

"Oh, Scarlett, no . . ."

"Come on!" Delilah exclaimed. "Completely different situation."

"How? How is it different, Delilah? Ten years ago, it was you, Luna, Mama, and me, right here in the grove, drawing some kind of nastiness out of the oak trees in order to save magic. Poison, back then, rather than bugs. We drew out the poison and . . . anybody remember what happened next?"

Luna shook her head sadly. "Please don't do this . . ."

"We drew it out, all right. Ooh boy, we drew that poison out of the trees and performed a transference spell to collect it in a vessel , back at the inn. And guess what that vessel turned out to be? Any takers?"

"Stop it, Scarlett!" Delilah stood up. "It was an accident."

"Yeah, Del. I never thought we poisoned our father on purpose . We just forgot to specify. ‘Uh hey, Magic? Find a proper vessel for all that poison okay? Don't store it in the human vessel that's our dad, cool? That was quite a whoopsie, wasn't it? And now, here we are, about to do the same goddamn thing all over again." Scarlett stood to face her older sister. "Tell me, Delilah, what do you reckon the unintended consequence will be this time?"

"Just go home, Scar. Luna and I can handle this on our own; no need for you to sully yourself with this."

"Go home?! Del, you called me , remember? You left that pathetic little message—"

"...it wasn't pathetic . . ."

"—saying I had to get here immediately. But now that I'm here disagreeing with you, suddenly you don't want me involved."

"To be honest, Scar? After ten years apart, I'd forgotten how annoying you can be."

"Hey, enough!" Luna raised her arms like the referee she so often became when her sisters were together. "Del, we need Scarlett. Look at this tree—it's a hundred feet tall. A net of that size will only function with cooperative magic. Remember, we need to collect all the insects at once—if we lose even a couple, they'll just breed, and we'll be back where we started. And Scarlett, look . . . I understand what you're saying, okay? I hear you."

"Oh, you hear me ," Scarlett groaned. "Wonderful. Therapy-speak, just what I need. You going to tell me that feelings aren't facts now?"

"Well, actually . . . The situation ten years ago was very different—I know it doesn't feel that way, but it was. That was a teleportation spell that went wrong, remember? We were trying to transfer physical matter across a distance. That's very difficult. We tried to specify what would become of that matter at the new location, and Papa accidentally got in the way."

" Oh my God! You're blaming him now?"

"Please, Scar, listen to me. I'm not blaming anybody. I'm saying this is very different and much simpler. We aren't transferring the insects through space. I'm going to chase them out of the tree, and you and Del will trap them. Period. Basic stuff. Okay? Del, are you okay?"

" Fine ," Del said, although her tone suggested things were far from it.

"Scar?"

Scarlett stared up at the stars, then squeezed her eyes shut and tried to remember what Papa looked like.

"Scar, listen to me. The insects are devouring this tree and then they'll move on to another, and another. The longer we let this go, the larger an area we'll need to address, and the more complicated the spellwork will be. And if these dragonflies are allowed to take over the entire grove, who knows if magic will function at all. Which means, if you are concerned about risk, waiting to act is by far the riskiest choice. This moment, right now, is the least-risky time to do this."

She sighed. "All right. Luna the Litigator has talked me into doing her bidding."

"It's going to be fine." Luna gestured to Delilah, and the two of them walked slowly around the tree, marking out spots where sigils would be placed for the netting spell.

"Hey, pal." Nate gave Scarlett a friendly slug on the shoulder. "You all right?"

She sighed. "Sorry you had to see that."

"Don't even think about it. And listen, for what it's worth?" He leaned in to whisper. "I agree with you. If that helps."

She allowed herself another peek into those inviting black eyes of his. "It helps." She grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard. "Now please get back behind the tree line, so nothing happens to you."

***

Scarlett's stomach churned. Every instinct screamed that this was a terrible idea, and meanwhile the vague image of her father danced in her head. Papa had called, "Goodbye and good hunting, my angels," as his girls had headed out to the grove all those years ago. It was the last thing he'd ever said.

The memory of him had sent her running to the West Coast, had inspired her to avoid the covens of San Francisco, to play it safe, to be normal . Whenever she'd considered using magic to catch a cab, pay a bill, or clean the dishes, the memory of her father pulled her up short.

And look at me now, sitting under a goddamn magical oak with my sisters, my very own Glinda and Elphaba. What am I doing here?

"Okay, positions." Delilah's voice was clipped and businesslike. Either she wasn't thinking about Papa at all, or she was a much better actress than Scar had realized.

Scarlett and Delilah took their places, sitting cross-legged with their knees touching under the canopy of the infested oak. Luna stood beside them, holding a large tube that she'd conjured from thin air; it appeared to be some sort of didgeridoo. She'd also enchanted a dozen or so candles, which floated in the air at varying heights and cast a warm glow all around.

"Okay, that's cool," Scarlett admitted. "When this is over, you need to teach me how to do the floaty candle thing."

Luna frowned. "How do you not know the floaty candle thing? It's like a middle-school level spell."

"She was out in the garden all the time," Delilah recalled. "She was probably busy training her little ant army or whatever that was."

"Removing the ants from Mama's peonies was basically the only one of my spells she ever liked. So, are we doing this or what?"

Luna nodded. "You two start. I don't want to disturb the bugs until the net is up."

Delilah took Scarlett's hands in hers and closed her eyes. Scarlett hesitantly followed suit. With a disorienting jolt, she felt her sister's presence invading her mind. Delilah's fierce determination, tinged with an undercurrent of worry, nudged aside Scarlett's own mixed emotions.

But there was Papa's face again.

Focus, dammit!

Scarlett tried to push away the memory of her father. This spell required a unified flow of power, and her conflicting emotions were muddying the stream.

One by one, the sigils around the tree began to glow. Three beacons blinked into existence . . . then four . . . five . . . six. A faint outline of a shimmering net took shape above and all around them.

Luna began playing her didgeridoo. Low, mournful notes filled the clearing, and tendrils of hazy red smoke seeped from the instrument, coiling around the old tree trunk. But the red smoke didn't seem to disturb any of the insects. So Luna adjusted her spell and before long the smoke turned green . . . no luck either . . . then ochre.

Ah, ochre was the ticket. The tree itself seemed to shudder as all the frustrated insects spilled out of the tree.

But then, a thought came to Scarlett unbidden. A thought she hadn't allowed herself to have in a very, very long time.

Papa, I miss you.

The spell faltered. The sigils flickered and dimmed. The net wavered, its ephemeral strands twisting and straining.

"Scarlett, dammit!" Delilah's voice lashed out. "Focus!"

"No!" Luna's cry was sharp. "Oh no!"

Scarlett's eyes jolted open.

The net groaned, its shimmering outline snapping at several points. And then, in agonizingly slow motion, it began to tear itself apart.

"We're losing it!" Delilah yelled, her face pale.

Scarlett tried to pull herself together. She dove back into her own mind, searching for Delilah, desperate to weave their power back together. But it was too late. Another rip tore through the net, and the remaining vestiges dissolved into the night air.

The swarm broke free, casting their eerie crimson glow over the entire grove. The insects soared through the trees, diving-bombing one healthy branch after another. One by one, their crimson lights extinguished as they burrowed into their new hosts.

"Ohhh no," Scarlett whispered. "We've just made it so much worse."

Delilah stood up, murder in her eyes. " You , Scarlett. You made it fucking worse."