Chapter 25

Chapter

Twenty-Five

A week later, I found myself on Mom's porch, bare feet planted on the soil. The earth felt more alive than it had in three years, but it was still woefully faint when compared to before.

The speaker in the garden room blared "The Sound of Silence" by Disturbed. Cecil had hooked it up to his tablet, and I'd given him permission to access a music app. I'd have preferred some Eagles, especially at seven in the morning, but I wasn't in charge of the tunes today.

" Vita ," I whispered.

I slid off the porch and sat cross-legged on the soil. With cupped hands, I slowly dug a hole, my hands at first meeting resistance in the dead and dry earth then finding pliancy. My fingertips tingled as I plunged them in the dirt, the feeling gliding up my arms, cresting my shoulders, and twirling down my spine.

It felt good to run my fingers through the earth, to connect with the parts of it that resonated with my magic, even if it was a weak connection.

"Don't Tell Me" followed "The Sound of Silence." Cecil was apparently working his way through his entire Disturbed playlist.

I sang along, the sun warming my back, a light wind cooling the dampness on my brow. Before long, I'd widened the hole until it reached the steppingstones Mom and I had crafted with cement and bits of glass, quartz, and polished stones leftover from the fireplace surround.

"Thank you for supplying us with the materials for the fireplace," I said to the earth. "I have so many beautiful and frustrating memories of building it with her."

The ground rumbled, and a jolt of pure joy surged through me.

It was listening.

I dug in a widening ring, shoveling up handfuls of rich, damp earth, working the dry into the damp, the dead into the living. I sang the songs Cecil played, humming when I didn't know the words. Unconsciously, I worked from the porch outward, my knees sinking, fingers acting like a cultivator loosening and working dead things at the surface into the richer soil.

I worked the soil until sunlight dimmed and darkness threatened.

Until my body ached.

Until I'd rucked up not only the yard in front of the cottage, but the area in front of the garden room and across the path to Red's final resting place. I dug into the saguaro's grave, folding moist soil over dry, reveling in the beauty of the pain gripping my body, because it meant I was alive.

And I wasn't the only one.

I pushed to my hands and knees. The muscles in my back screamed and my fingers cramped. My nails were broken, polish scoured away. I'd used my whole body to dig—feet, knees, hands—and I was drenched in soil until all I could smell was the sweet, loamy earth and all I could taste was the tang of its minerals on my tongue.

Could I put on a heal charm and take away the pain?

Yes, but I'd have to take away the rest, too, and I wanted to feel it all. Pain and relief. To appreciate the latter, you had to accept the former.

Somewhere along the way, Cecil had brought me a teacup of water. Fennel had watched my progress from inside the room mostly, periodically trotting out to snuffle my neck. Checking on me. It was nice.

Three years ago, who would've thought I'd have a garden gnome and magical cat as partners? As friends? Then again, who would've thought I'd end up living in a travel trailer in my mom's seven-space trailer park in Smokethorn, California?

It wasn't at full strength, and neither was I.

But for the first time, I felt sure we would be.

I spent the next day working compost into the places I'd dug up in front of the garden room. In my grief and anger, I'd ignored the soil's health on a basic level. I'd watered regularly, of course, but that was the bare minimum. Healthy soil needed more than water and magic; it needed organic material and insects and access to sunlight.

My cell phone buzzed in the back pocket of my jeans. I dusted off my hands and fished it out. Peered at the screen.

Baek Ye-Joon's face smiled drunkenly back at me. He'd texted me a selfie he and Ida had taken after their "nightcap" together the night of the summoning, and I'd attached it to his number on my phone. He'd left six days ago with a promise to keep in touch. A promise he appeared to be keeping.

"Hello, it's Betty," I said.

"Hello, Betty, It's Joon." The muted background noise told me he was near a crowded place but not in it. "I'm in Glendale outside a casino resort waiting for a client I picked up after my last job. Wanted to check in with you."

"Does the client work at the casino?"

"They own it. Apparently, they've got an embezzler on the floor who's cloaking their foul deeds with magic." I could tell he was smiling as he said it. "They're comping me a room, and I get to play blackjack until I locate the offender. I should be a billionaire by the end of my stay here."

"Yeah, well, you just be careful out there, Taylor Swift," I said.

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Point taken." I dug my bare toe into the soil I'd just worked, testing it for magic the way a swimmer might test water to be sure it wasn't too cold before diving in.

"To be honest, I've spent most of my free time checking out the tribal artifacts here. They have some fascinating pieces. A couple are definitely spelled. I'll be advising them on better protecting the items in my report."

"Never off duty, are we?"

"Never." His sigh floated over the line. "Betty, I've been thinking more and more about the Siete Saguaros. I think I might be able to work with the soil there. I'm not sure, but I do want to help you. I could give it a test run. I told you before that I'm looking for a stopping place. Maybe the park is that place, maybe not, but I like the people there, including you, and I'd be willing to give it a try."

I toed the soil with my other foot. "Joon, about the park. I don't think—I-I'm not going to leave. Not yet, at least. Things changed here the other night and I?—"

"You want to give the place another chance. Perfectly understandable. It's not an easy decision to make."

"You're not angry?"

"Not at all. To be honest, I half expected it after everything." His voice lowered. "Hey, I've got to go. CEO's coming this way, and she doesn't look happy. We'll talk later, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, Joon."

I ended the call and tucked my phone in my pocket.

"He really is a great choice," I said to the soil. "You greened the grass for him, so it's obvious you like him."

"Hey there." Ida strolled up, took one look at me, and grinned. "I overheard you talking to my other wine-drinking buddy, Joon. Everything okay?"

"He offered to do a test run as manager of the park."

I bent down and patted the ground that had swallowed my feet the second I ended the call.

"Is that right?" She stared down at my buried feet. "And what did you tell him?"

The ground pulled me down to my calves and squeezed—gently, like a hug. "I told him I wasn't ready to leave just yet. Anyway, it's not up to me. It's up to the Siete Saguaros."

"I'm thinking this place has made its choice," she said.

"Me, too."