Chapter 29

Ipaced the small space of the safe treehouse, unable to hold still. I'd tried sleeping. Tried eating a bit. But nothing settled me, nothing took away from the need to get back into the castle, to find Vesuvius.

Yes, I know many people would have said just run for it, that seems logical. But the long game…I wanted to be free of this spell forever. Which meant understanding it, and that meant getting to the castle.

"How are we going to do it?" I asked for what seemed like the hundredth time.

Bramble sighed. "We aren't. You need to get out of here. As I've been telling you."

I looked at her. "Then the spell will never be done properly, and someone else could come along, I'm a walking spell pot!"

A headache pushed behind both my eyeballs as if trying to force them from my head. "I don't suppose there is any Advil in here?" I dug around in the few storage spaces, looking for something to ease the ache.

"Here. I always carry some." Bramble tossed me a small bottle. "I have a hip that causes me grief."

I gave a half laugh. "Saving the world with bum knees. A bum hip. A bad headache. However will the bad guys stop us? Shine a bright light in our eyes and try to make us climb over a fence?"

Bramble laughed. "Have hope, Bree. We'll find a way to fix everything."

"Oh, I have hope. Hope that I'll get a damn vacation after this." I popped two pills into my mouth and washed them down with a glass of water. Not the best in flavor, certainly not the whiskey chaser I would have preferred. But it was better than nothing.

"Why don't you try to sleep?" Bramble said. "I'll keep watch."

I rubbed a hand over my face, working my fingers into my temples. "My head hurts too much."

"Here. I'll rub your neck and shoulders." She motioned for me to lay down.

I raised both eyebrows at her. "Are you serious?"

"I used to do it for you all the time when we were young. You'd get headaches and Gran didn't believe in ‘popping pills,' as she said."

I smiled, because she wasn't wrong. Gran had always been against using any medical interventions that weren't made from the herbs in her garden. With a sigh, I lay on the bed and Bramble sat behind me, her fingers working into my neck and shoulder muscles before moving up and over my scalp.

Maybe I didn't realize just how tense I was—I mean, I should have, it had been a rather shitty few days.

But I faded quickly, the relaxation of my muscles enough to lull me to sleep and from there into a dream.

"Bree."

Crash's voice turned my head. He stood on a pathway that I recognized, even if I didn't know it exactly. The path of the dark fae. Dressed in black armor, head to foot, with touches of silver here and there, I almost couldn't pick him out of the darkness.

"Crash! I'm out of the castle, but I have to get back in! Are you okay?"

His smile was…sad…"I am on my way to you, Bree. I know where you are. The Isle of the Lost. Off the coast of France. I've sent a message to everyone. They're all on their way."

I reached for him, but there was too much space between us. "Why are you sad? You're on your way here. I know what I have to do."

Crash held his hand out to me, but even with both of us reaching, there was too much space between us for us to touch. "Don't do anything rash. Not until I get there. You're not alone, Bree. You were never alone in any of this. Your family is coming. We are all coming."

My chest and throat tightened. He didn't say friends and family. Just family. Because everyone in my life had become my family, the heart of what I was fighting for. "I know. I sent Feish back?—"

"I saw her. She's bringing help. Bree. This is a battle for the world, and it's not just on your shoulders. The fight has come to us all, and you will not stand alone." Behind him, shadows began to move, fae in armor as black as Crash's. He looked over his shoulder. "I must go, but I will be there—we all will be."

The dream faded and I slipped deeper into unconsciousness. My dream self flew over the land around the castle, seeing the barrier that had stopped Alan. I was there only for a moment and then I was yanked away, pulled so fast out and across the ocean that I nearly screamed, forgetting it was just a dream.

Just a dream.

I blinked, and I was at Haven House, standing on the doorstep. I lifted a hand to the door?—

"There is no point in knocking, honey child."

Gran appeared at my side. "They've all left. Crash reached out to us as soon as he had the name of where you are. I am tied here, it seems. My spirit would not leave this place." She frowned. "Strange, it has never been that way for me before."

"No one gave up on me." I almost didn't believe it. Not that I would have given up on any of my friends, of course. But it was one thing to fight for your friends. It was another to know that they would fight for you. There were times when it was easy to believe I was alone, to believe that I had only myself to depend on.

Years of hyper independence will do that to a person.

Old wounds were hard to heal, but this one healed a little more in that moment.

Gran snorted. "Of course not! How could you even think that? Honey child. You are the only hope we have of stopping Evangeline, of figuring out this mess." She reached over and brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear.

We sat down on the steps together and I leaned into her. This was what I'd needed, to feel my grandmother's love. To hear her voice. To be reassured that we could do this, that we would come out triumphant against the evil of the world.

"Gran…who spun the spell the first time. Do you know?"

I didn't tell her what Bramble and I had figured out. I wasn't sure why, exactly, only that my gut was telling me to hold back a little. Which was strange, because…well, because it was Gran not some stranger.

She sighed, and her face tightened with what looked like sorrow. "Yes. I do know. But it doesn't matter now. None of what happened in the past matters now."

Something in the past did matter though, the person who'd helped Evangeline the first time…had they cast the spell wrong? Or was it a spell for zombie vampires? "Who was it? Gran, I think it is important, and it does matter."

Gran looked like she'd sucked on a sour lemon. "It does not matter."

"It does."

"Does not!" She raised her voice, which was unlike Gran.

I stared at her. It wasn't sorrow in her face—it was fear.

"Gran…the spell…the spell was spun incorrectly. On purpose. Twice now. We think that if it is cast wrong a third time, that would be enough to do something terrible. Perhaps even catastrophic. Is that true? A third time spun wrong?"

Gran clutched her hands in front of her, her mouth dropping open as she stumbled back. "No. No that's not possible."

I wasn't sure which part of what I'd said she was denying. "No? It won't be enough? I don't understand. Gran…who was it? Who spun the first spell? Intent is so much of this, you know that!"

Gran just shook her head, seemingly struck mute by our conversation.

"It was the First Witch, wasn't it?" I clutched at her hands. "Remy's mother? That's why Evangeline needs him?"

Tears leaked down Gran's face, and the hope that had started in my chest faded, like a flame withering under her tears.

"Gran? Please tell me it was the First Witch."

"You're right about the intent being important," Gran whispered. Her eyes going to me. "But…it was…not the First Witch." Her hands clutched mine. "It was my grandmother, Bree. Your great grandmother. Bramble's great grandmother."

Her grandmother. Hope fled entirely then, running away like chickens from a dark shadow in the sky.

Her eyes fluttered closed. "A dark history, Honey child. No, it was never meant to be known, I've tried my whole life to counter that terrible act…but my grandmother was the first to…she was the healer whom Robert took Evangeline to, she was the one who started all of this. I didn't think it mattered. There was nothing in her journal about the spell itself. Nothing that was of use. Only that she would be the one to cast it."

I wasn't sure if it was my hands or Gran's that were icy cold. "Gran, what are you saying?"

"What was the second time it was cast incorrectly?" she whispered. "Was it with Ward? During the hurricane, isn't it?"

The dream started to fade. I could feel the waking world tug at me, could feel Bramble whispering at me to wake up. I closed my eyes to stay in the dream. "Hurricane Katrina."

"Oh gods," she whispered. "Bree…I was wrong. I was so wrong. Bramble was with me then, but she left the day the hurricane hit. She left, saying she had a lead somewhere else…she is the connection. She had my grandmother's journal. I was sure there was nothing in it but…"

Her hands slipped from mine, and I woke with a start, sitting straight up in bed. Bramble was at my back.

"Are you okay? You were mumbling in your sleep."

I kept my back to her and drew in a shaky breath. "Yeah. Just nightmares, you know?"

"Yes, I do."

The tremors that ran through my body were no small thing. Sweat coated my skin in a thin, clammy film. I rubbed my arms briskly and a blanket was put over my shoulders.

Bramble sat next to me. "We'll get through this."

"Yeah," I said. But I didn't think that we would. Either she would, or I would. And I'd be damned if I'd go down easy. But why hadn't she just taken me from this place? In the beginning, she'd said she wanted to get me out of here, to the pathway where Crash would be waiting for me. Only…Crash hadn't said anything about talking to her.

I tried to think back to exactly what Richart had said about this place…

It's a safe house. As long as you stay within it, nothing can hurt you. Nothing can make you leave.

I put my hand to my throat. I had to be sure, though…

"Distract me, Bramble. Tell me about your son. What is he like?"

She laughed softly. "Oh, he's a gem. Looks a bit too much like his father for my taste, but that's how it goes, isn't it?"

I nodded, leaned over and picked up the clay cup of water. The thing was heavy, like a small brick. "I couldn't have children. Did you know that?"

She leaned back on the bed so she was looking up at the ceiling. "I'm sorry about that."

I shrugged. "I get it now. I wouldn't want to have a child in the middle of this mess. But it also means I pay attention when people talk about their children. Because I wish it were me, talking about a child of my own."

I rolled the clay cup in my hand.

"I guess that makes sense."

I didn't have time to second guess myself. I swung the cup as hard as I could at her head, connecting with the side of her temple. She never had a chance.

"Which means I remember you clearly saying you had a daughter." I said.

Her eyes rolled and she was out cold. I grabbed the sheets on the bed and yanked them into strips. Moving as fast as I could, I tied her hands to the bed posts, wrapping her fingers fully so they couldn't even move dependently, then tied her feet to the bottom rung of the bed for good measure.

"What…why…" She started to come around as I frisked her pockets. A long thin wand came free of her left pocket. Her eyes went straight to it. "No! Don't you dare! Bree!"

Her eyes flashed and her wrapped hands flexed, but there was no magic—not that she didn't have any, but I suspected having her hands tied up helped slow things down.

I took a step back. "You caused the hurricane. On purpose. Why?"

"I will finish what our great grandmother started," she said, calm as a summer's day, not as if she were tied up at all. "The world needs to be cleansed. Bree, you must listen to me. You have enemies everywhere."

"And you are one of them. You, my own cousin!" I shook my head as I took a step back. I had her wand. There was a small hunting knife on the table that I scooped up. Two weapons. Now what was I going to do with them?

I was no witch, but…maybe I had enough witch's blood in me to make this work? Probably not. But maybe…maybe just enough?

Right then I knew only one thing.

I wasn't running away. I wasn't going to give her a chance to escape. Because I had no doubt that she would try to make a break for it the second I left.

"Bree. The world needs you to be strong."

I snorted. "You mean to die?"

"It was always your destiny. I thought Gran understood that. I thought she was just keeping you safe until the time was right. But…I was wrong about that."

My eyes about bugged out of my head. "There is no way Gran?—"

"She knew about her grandmother, Bree. She knew. And she told me about her. She knew how important it was to do this."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. In fact, to me this was total bull baloney. How many lies had Bramble told me in the short time I'd known her? Too many to count.

Gran had just spoken with me and no matter what, I knew her heart, and I knew she would never hurt me, which gave me comfort. "You are the liar. Not Gran."

"You'll regret this." Bramble glared at me. "I could have made it painless, but now, I'll let you suffer."

A figure burst into the room, a ghost. "They have him!" Phillipa yelled. "The creeper demons, from the castle, they have Alan! He got through the barrier and…they took him!"

I blew a breath. "What can they possibly do to him? He's a ghost."

Phillipa tried to grab me. "You don't understand! They could eat him!"