Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"Is there something you wish to say to me?"

Only a billion and a half things, and we'll start with— I swallowed, the physical act a mimic of the mental act of shoving away those unhelpful thoughts.

Despite my frustration, now was not the time to be combative. My body trembled as I sucked in a steeling breath. Grandmother and I would never see eye to eye on Arthur, or any shifter, or my friends and life here in Redbud, but there was something we could always agree on: the importance of family. Getting Marten back. I would focus on that.

On the exhale, I came to her side like I was her treasured pupil again. She gave me a cautious look, hands unclasping in case she had to defend herself. It hurt that we had come to this, and I vowed then and there that as far as it was up to me, I would try to be at peace with her. Within the scope of my morals and in the defense of my own path, of course.

"Arcadis said he wasn't a demon at all, but Unseelie fae," I said calmly.

"The distinction is hardly worth making," Grandmother replied, not dismissively. Her eyes flickered over my face, questioning my choice of conversation. It certainly hadn't been the tirade she'd been expecting. "But yes."

Other than knowing there were two courts, Seelie and Unseelie, that they abhorred iron—though maybe that was just the Seelie, since iron didn't seem to have any effect on gem-entrapped demonic half-hearts—and viewed us supes as thieves of their power, I didn't know much else. Perhaps not an omission in my education as other things had been—their secretive nature and traveling portals made it difficult to get any information down on them. That, and the fact that most who went through those portals never returned.

"How does that detail help us get Marten back?" I asked.

She cocked her eyebrow at me, impressed at my deduction. Magic and spells were precise. Details always mattered. "Arcadis is fae, and that means he'll want to bargain. But fae bargains are tricky, nuanced, and completely unbreakable. Knowing that, we'll craft our demands, and our replies to his inevitable counteroffers, very carefully."

"He'll try to entrap us," I summarized.

She nodded. "Get everything he wants"—her ivy-green eyes dropped to his ring on the chain around my neck—"and leave us worse off than we already are." Then Iris Hawthorne squared her shoulders, gazing at the shimmering waterfall mirror. "But I've dealt with him before. He'll be desperate for that ring, so we'll be negotiating from the high ground."

"Is that how you got him to cleave his heart for the protection spell? Because you held the high ground?"

Grandmother once again glanced at the ring hanging next to Arthur's pendant. "Yes."

"Was it this ring?" I exclaimed.

"When it was made clear to me what the next century would hold—you, Meadow—I traveled to the Moors of Tarsaghaun for the wights—pure spirits. In this realm, the resemble animals of white vapor and are nigh impossible to catch. But they are travelers of the In-Between.

"During the last fae war, the Unseelie were sealed away in their courts and their access to this mortal realm cut off, except by only the darkest avenues."

Sacrifice , I realized, my thoughts turning to Shari. Then I shuddered, remembering what her quilt had shown us. What that cult had been preparing her for.

"Obviously providing a way for such a fae to return here would be of exceptional value," Grandmother continued, clasping her hands together. "So I summoned my battle magic and captured a wight, transferring its spirit into the diamonds in that ring. It took five to contain it all. It's ancient magic, something I didn't want you youngsters toying with."

Hence your rebuke and scorn anytime one of us tried to use a crystal in a spell. You didn't want us taking a crystal with a spirit trapped in it and releasing it. More ignorance instead of just telling us the truth.

When had Grandmother decided she was the gatekeeper to knowledge? That she alone got to choose what morsel she parceled out?

"That ring allows its master to travel between realms for short periods of time," she finished, "so Arcadis will definitely be wanting it back. No matter the cost."

I almost broke the chain to get the ring off and onto my finger. "Then why don't we use it right now to go get Marten? Why bother with this mirror and all these spells and—"

"I told you fae bargains are tricky," Grandmother said ruefully. "That ring can only be used by Arcadis. That was the deal."

My exasperated huff blew the stray wisps of brown hair out of my face.

Grandmother chuckled. "My thoughts exactly."

"Well, we should have a backup plan, just in case. Arcadis isn't the only demon wandering around up here from time to time. There's this warlock, Jakob Tabrass, who's the ringmaster at the Carnival Cauchemar, and he—"

"Meadow!" Grandmother seized my shoulders and gave me a little shake. "A warlock? Have you learned nothing—"

I shook her off. "I've done what I had to to survive out here—to free you—and I'll not apologize for it. It's not like I was having afternoon tea with the man! I just know there might be other options. Other Unseelie we might contact if Arcadis proves troublesome."

"Warlocks and their patrons don't mix well with witches, Meadow. I'll not expose you, nor our weakened coven, to their attention." She inhaled deeply, settling her shoulders. "If Arcadis isn't willing to deal, we have another option that doesn't include demons or warlocks."

"We do?" I asked hopefully.

Her eyes turned cold. "Of course. Marten was—is—the best choice to replace Hare as the newest robed elder. But we have an entire manor full of other candidates as well. Less suited, obviously, but still viable."

I stared at her, hardly daring to believe what I'd just heard. "You… you'd leave him there and go back to the manor to rebuild the Circle of Nine and then continue on as if nothing had happened?"

"Expelling Marten from the Circle of Nine would make him no longer a liability to our strength. He would just be another uninitiated witch with no tap to the Circle's power." Then she stepped close and seized my cheeks with her vice-like fingers, pinching tight. "I must be shrewd, Meadow, to lead this coven, so I must see and weigh every option, no matter how unsavory. But make no mistake, whatever choice I make, I will not just leave him there."

She gave me a little shove then, and when I regained my footing, I found tears glittering in her fierce eyes. They knew better than to spill down her cheeks, though.

"You might hate me for the secrets I've kept, for the bargains I made, but know this," she said, her voice low and savage. "I would die for any one of you."

With that, she turned back to the shimmering waterfall of the mirror, and I was dismissed.