Chapter 27 Rasputins

The grove wasn't far from town, a gentle uphill walk on a winding path Scarlett had trod since childhood. The path cut through fields of goldenrod, their blooms fading to rusty brown, their fragrance a bittersweet mix of honey and decay. As she and Nate walked in silence up the hill, Scarlett pulled herself together as best she could—pushing down all the anguish that Nate had unintentionally released.

It doesn't matter, she told herself. Nothing that happened between us matters because nothing about our situations has changed. I can't bear to stay in Oak Haven and Nate can't bear to leave.

It's actually straightforward, she thought, if only I'd let it be.

As they crested the hill, the once-majestic oak grove came into view. Scarlett's breath caught in her throat. The ancient branches sagged with an unsettling weariness; their leaves drooped, many tinged with a sickly yellow. Tiny red lights darted amongst the branches, painting the grove in an unnatural crimson haze. In place of the usual hum of magical energy, the air thrummed with the strange buzzing of the dragonflies.

But the scene wasn't entirely bleak, because the grove buzzed with something else besides flies: Oak Haven residents. Due to the current crisis, the law forbidding non-witches from entering the grove had been rescinded; it seemed like the whole town was here. Friends and neighbors, all of them ready to pitch in and try to save the oaks.

In the center of the grove, Kelly Melrose stood beneath the central tree, barking out instructions to the workers. Her shoulders were squared, her back as straight as ever. Despite her worried expression, a steely glint in her eyes spoke of generations of Melroses who'd faced worse crises than this. As she caught sight of Scarlett and Nate approaching, her features softened for a split second, as if to say, very nice to see you —before turning hard, as if to add, glad you finally showed up .

Aphra Pierre, her usual bohemian attire replaced by practical jeans and a flannel shirt, sat with a small circle of women, including Scarlett's sister Luna. They were weaving intricate cages from skeins of glowing metallic thread. Periodically, Aphra would put down her own weaving project to advise one of the other women on theirs. She smiled and waved when she saw Scarlett and Nate approaching.

"Scarlett!" Aphra called out, her voice tinged with urgency. "We need your help over here. These cages are holding for now, but we don't have much time."

Scarlett nodded. "I'll be right there."

Other townsfolk were busy with more down-to-earth tasks. The time witch Louise Demain, wearing a bulky canvas apron over her usual black chiffon, stood at the base of one of the oaks, poking at a cluster of the glowing insects with a long branch. Nate nudged Scarlett and muttered, "If I were those bugs, I'd be worried."

Meanwhile, Samuel and Belinda Chatterjee chased dragonflies with butterfly nets, hopping clumsily here and there as they tried to bring down one or two insects at a time.

A makeshift processing line had taken shape on the grove's far edge. Once captured, the glowing insects were carefully transferred from the nets into Aphra's cages. These had been hastily enchanted to confine the creatures, temporarily limiting the dragonflies' ability to infect more trees with their chaotic sparks of magic. Once the containers were full, the volunteers of the Emergency Magic Service, led by Priti Chatterjee, took charge. Unfortunately, they were struggling to find an effective method of disposal—they tried fire, they tried water, they tried electricity. But the flies were tiny Rasputins, laughing off every attempted execution.

The townspeople worked tirelessly to contain the infestation, but it seemed that for every fly they captured, a dozen more took its place. Scarlett felt the weight of her responsibility pressing down on her, a physical ache in her chest, and Louise's words repeated in her mind—an ugly melody she couldn't get out of her head.

They passed town selectman Conrad, perched atop a ladder. Armed with his own net, he was reaching out to try and catch some flies that had taken shelter on a high branch. But he was awkwardly poised, and his ladder was shifting back and forth worryingly.

Nate turned to Scarlett and said, "I should go help Conrad before he ends up in traction."

"You do that." She nodded. "I'm going to check in with the general."

But first, he squeezed her shoulder. "You sure you're okay?"

She shrugged him off. "Don't give it a thought." She marched toward her mother without turning back.

***

Mama's lecture began before Scarlett could even offer a hello. "Scarlett, I realize you've built your own glamorous life out west . . ." she paused to direct Belinda Chatterjee "...that's wonderful, Bel; please take those over to the EMS team, all right? But, Scarlett, when you are in Oak Haven, you are a Melrose, and therefore—"

" Therefore , I have a responsibility to honor the generations of Melrose leaders who have come before," Scarlett recited. "Yeah, yeah, I know. So, do you think this is going to work? Just de-infesting the entire grove by hand?"

Mama drew closer to offer a confession. "It's a band-aid at best. We'll never be able to remove them all manually. But panic was starting to set in. People needed something to do. So tell me, did you learn anything from your visit with Louise?"

"Uh, sure. Apparently, the answer to the infestation has been inside me all along. I just need to click my heels three times and find it."

"Hmm," her mother said unsmilingly, "I suggest you get on with it then."

Scarlett noticed a makeshift refreshment table set up under a wide elm tree. A brightly patterned tablecloth was laden with steaming mugs of apple cider, a large urn of coffee, and baskets overflowing with pumpkin bread and cider donuts. Polly was manning the table, verbally sparring with her daughter, who was clearly supposed to be helping but was clearly not.

Violet spat out a list of vile insults at her mother, which she capped off with a hearty "I hate you!" before storming off. The teenager plunked down under an oak on the far edge of the grove, the hood of her sweatshirt pulled low, and her head squarely focused on her phone.

Scarlett watched this play out from a distance, debating whether or not to approach. She had settled on no way when Polly noticed her standing there and gave an exhausted half-wave.

Ahhh, nuts, Scarlett thought. I've been spotted. She ambled over to Polly's table.

"I suppose you saw that fight," Polly said before Scarlett could greet her.

Scarlett raised her hands. "No judgment. My mother and I have really gone at it more than once or twice in public."

"It's just the age, I suppose. Do you want some cider?"

"Sure, love some. Look . . . Polly . . . I just want to say . . . About your store, and um, everything that happened there."

"I don't want to talk about it. Certainly, I don't want to talk about it with you. Your mother said she'd help me rebuild once magic is restored, so, I'll survive."

"I just wanted to offer an apology."

"Right, well." Polly looked away. "Not really wanting one at the moment."

"Sure." Scarlett nodded. "That's fair. Okay, um . . . would you mind if I tried having a talk with Violet?"

"Do I mind . No, I don't mind. But did you bring a shark cage with you?"

"I'll be careful." Scarlett pointed at the cups of cider on the table. "I assume this is family-friendly cider and not the hard kind?" Polly nodded, so Scarlett took two cups and headed over to Violet's tree.

The teenager didn't look up.

"Brought you some cider," Scarlett offered.

"Not thirsty."

"Okay." Scarlett sat down beside Violet anyway, putting a cup of cider beside her. She sipped her own drink for a while, watching in silence as the townsfolk worked tirelessly to contain the infestation.

Finally, she glanced over at Violet's phone. "So . . . learned any good TikTok dances lately?"

"Don't try to relate to me," Violet growled.

"Okay, fair. I won't relate to you. I'll just be blunt: what are you doing hanging out with Maximillian?"

Violet glanced up ever so briefly, but then her head swiveled back down. "I don't know who that is."

"Bullshit. I saw the two of you in town. In fact, I followed you both—until Max pulled some sort of magician-y disappearing act on me."

"He's nice to me," she said quietly. "He understands me."

A troubling answer. Magicians don't understand teenage witches, she thought. But to Violet, she said, "Sure, that makes sense," and tried to keep the worry out of her voice. "So, I'm curious about something. What do you think Max and all his magician buddies are up to anyway? You don't think they have anything to do with this dragonfly situation . . . do they?"

"What are you talking about?! Maybe the magicians just like it here. Maybe they just want a place where they can be themselves and be accepted for who they are."

Scarlett frowned. "Hmm, that doesn't make much sense. Trust me—rightly or wrongly—nobody in Oak Haven accepts magicians for who they are. "

"Yeah, because you're all prejudiced! Max and his friends are nicer and cooler than anybody else in this dumb town."

"Huh. Okay." As this interrogation was going nowhere fast, Scarlett stood up. "I think I'm going to go help out with the trees. Maybe you could join me? I know Oak Haven is dumb and prejudiced and all that . . . but it's still your home for the foreseeable future. And we're all pitching in to clean up the grove. What do you say?"

Violet looked up, her eyes full of rage. "Why would I? Why would I want the grove cleaned? Seems to me the oaks are getting exactly what they deserve."

"Whoa!" exclaimed Scarlett. "What does that mean?"

"It means I'm no snitch and I don't betray my friends." Violet stood up and kicked over the cup of cider Scarlett had left.

"What friends, Violet? Do you mean Max? Why wouldn't Max want the grove cleaned?"

"Leave me alone!" She stomped away.

"Hey," Scarlett called. "We're not done! Why wouldn't Max want the grove cleaned, Violet? Did the magicians do this? Did you help?"

Violet didn't answer—she just kept going, right past her mother, down the path toward town.

Nate must have heard the tone in Scarlett's voice from across the grove. He abandoned Conrad to his fate and jogged to her. "What's the ruckus?"

Scarlett was staring at the path where Violet had just fled. "She's mixed up in all this—she and Max."

"Which she ?"

"Violet."

Nate turned a baffled expression on his face. "Wait— Violet ? But why? Jeez, Scarlett, are you sure? She's just a kid."

A sudden commotion erupted near the center of the grove. Shouts of alarm and frustration filled the air as Aphra's containers faltered. With EMS unable to terminate the flies, the glowing cages were straining under the sheer number of insects they held. One by one, the delicate metallic threads strained and snapped, unable to withstand the relentless pressure of the buzzing swarms within.

Scarlett and Nate could only watch in horror as all the town's work unraveled. Aphra and Luna rushed over to reinforce the failing cages, but too late. With a final, resounding crack, the cages all shattered simultaneously, releasing a torrent of glowing red insects back into the grove. The flies swarmed the trees once more, their tiny bodies pulsing with chaotic magical energy. A crimson haze descended upon the grove with renewed intensity.

Mama shouted orders, desperately trying to rally the group, but the sense of defeat was palpable. Scarlett felt a lump rising in her throat when she saw the Chatterjees abandon their post, realizing the futility of their actions. They joined the others in a slow, disheartened retreat from the grove.

As the last of the volunteers filed past, their faces a mix of exhaustion and despair, Scarlett felt overwhelmed with loss. The once-mighty oaks, the heart and soul of Oak Haven, were mere shadows of their former selves, ravaged by an enemy that apparently could not be overcome. And she had helped make it happen.

On her way out of the grove, Luna came over to hug her sister. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the incessant buzzing of the flies.

Scarlett shook her head, her gaze still fixed on the grove. "We tried," she murmured. "We'll try again." Part of her wanted to tell Luna about Violet and Max, but her sister was already in tears. What would be the point of telling her now?

"It wasn't enough," Luna said, sniffling. "Translating the Myrmex Arcana wasn't enough, Aphra's containers weren't enough . . . Nothing is enough."

"Don't give up, sis," Scarlett said. "If you , of all people, lose hope, we're all doomed. See you at home, okay? We'll talk more."

With a sad nod, Luna joined the flow of people heading back down the hill.

Soon Scarlett and Nate found themselves alone once more, watching the sun set over the grove. Scarlett couldn't help but fear that Oak Haven's hopes were fading along with the dying light.

"A teenager," Nate marveled. "A teenager caused all this? I can't believe it."

"We don't know precisely what Violet did," Scarlett pointed out. "Maybe something, maybe nothing. I need to have a word with Max. Or possibly a fight."

" You don't need to fight with anybody. Let your mother handle it. Or the EMS. Don't just take this on alone."

"But Louise says this is on me to fix."

"No one should be putting all this on you," he said. "That's not fair."

" Faaaaiir ," Scarlett said, perfectly imitating her mother's voice. "Child, I have seen a spell turn rain to sun. I have seen a spell turn old to young. But never have I seen a spell to turn the world to fair."

Nate smiled. "Your mom is extremely wonderful, but she can be extremely annoying." He reached for her hand, but Scarlett moved away.

"She is. Especially when she's right."