Gently, I rapped my knuckles on a partially-open wooden door. Inside, Grandfather sat at his desk, head bowed. His hand trembled as he read a letter, peering over the top of a pair of glasses.
Papa’s voice spoke quietly from behind the door, startling me.
“Come in, B.”
How he knew I stood on the other side of the door, I could only wonder. Perhaps, after all his years in the Protectors, his instincts had become that honed. Grandfather lifted his head. A warm smile wreathed his face.
“Bianca. Please, come in.”
I slipped inside and closed the door. Papa slouched on a chair off to the side. He winked with a familiar smile.
“DIdn’t expect to see you here,” I said as I sank into a chair next to him. Papa gestured to Grandfather with a nod.
“Just came to get an update on the Network at large. Can’t stay long. Sounds like Alkarra is a mess right now, as expected.”
“Merrick has been looking for you.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Are you going to tell him where you’ve been? It’s about to drive him mad.”
Papa’s lips twitched to hide a smile. “No. Tell him to be patient. Matthais and Baxter have enough work for him, he doesn’t need to poke into mine.”
“You’re doing Protector work?”
“No.”
I sighed away my irritation. No reason to press him. Papa would tell me when he could. After all we’d been through, I trusted him enough to know that.
Grandfather set the letter aside with a sad shake of his head. “A giant mess, all of it. Alkarra is on the verge of disaster, and only a united front will get us through this, I fear.”
Papa’s jaw clenched.
“What’s happened now?” I asked.
“The storm continues in the East and the North.” Grandfather tossed his glasses aside. “As it gains more ground, it gains more power. Flooding everywhere. Mudslides in the mountains. Fires in the Central Network. Windstorms burying cities in the Western Network. Alkarra is falling apart at the seams.”
“It’s the work of the gods.”
Grandfather’s lips twisted into a sour expression.
“I just . . . I wish we could know more of what to expect from them.” He hissed out a frustrated sound. “It’s all so unknown. Where will they attack? How will they attack? Scarlett believes they’ll attack the forest first, based on information from Baxter about the goddess of the forest.”
“Letum Wood is Deasylva’s power.”
“Yes,” he murmured, offhandedly. “So they say.”
“If the gods were smart,” I drawled, musing now, “they would attack more than just the trees, but the circle of the ancients.”
Papa frowned.
“Deasylva’s circle of power. I think all the gods and goddesses have one.” My gaze tapered. “Prana does, for sure. She took me there a while ago.”
The unexpected trip into Prana’s kingdom with Sanako weeks ago had been unwelcome and terrifying. I shuddered, recalling the cool ocean, the fish swimming past.
“The gods have circles too?” Papa asked.
I shrugged. “I believe so.”
Grandfather’s thoughtful silence followed. “Circle of the ancients. Interesting.”
“If you ask me, the gods will attack there.”
A distant whisper resurrected in my mind.
It is, Arborra said, as you say.
Grandfather leaned forward, scribbled something on a piece of parchment. It whisked away moments later.
“I have informed Scarlett. No doubt she’ll share this information with the other Networks as they continue to plan an Alkarran response. This helps immensely.” His concerned gaze met mine. “Thank you, dear girl. Send any other tidbits my way. It all helps.”
“I heard of a fire that attempted to crack open Letum Wood,” Papa drawled. His gaze darted to me.
“Tried,” I said with a blithe smile. “Didn’t succeed.”
He lifted an eyebrow.
“Calamities on the rise, Baxter searching for Nicomedianthekus, but not a word from the gods,” Grandfather said. “Why not?”
“The disasters are their words, if you ask me. The gods won’t lower themselves to announce anything to mere witches. They don’t care about us, they care about themselves. Whatever message they want to send will come to us through destruction. We’re the pawns, Grandfather.”
He frowned. “Of course. I shouldn’t have assumed they’d play by any rules similar to ours. Thank you for that reminder.”
A grim reminder to give.
“Any idea yet what weakness we can exploit in the gods?” Papa asked. Not a burr of teasing filled his tone, which was entirely too grave for my liking.
“We know that amulets are their greatest weakness. Lose enough of them, they’ll have no power. If there is another way to weaken them, I haven’t found it yet.”
He snorted. “Defeat a god by stealing his magic. Not an easy mission, Head of the Sisterhood. Best of luck. If anyone can accomplish it, you can.”
I glared.
He grinned.
The room fell into quiet, interrupted only by the wash of a nearby Chatterer scroll switching new headlines every few seconds. The quiet gave me a better chance to think about what Aldred had said.
The more I pondered it, the less I wanted to.
One thing I knew for certain—I couldn’t discuss it with Papa here. The less he knew about Aldred, the better.
A petite knock at the door startled me out of deepening thoughts. Papa’s frown erased as Regina peeked inside. A smile brightened his face, illuminating all the way to his eyes. His knees twitched, as if he held himself back from standing to greet her.
Dark red hair, more auburn than not, spilled off her shoulders as she leaned in. Her gaze landed on me with a startled blink. I managed a quick smile, then looked away.
“Regina,” Grandfather said with warmth. “You’re always welcome here. Come to take this scoundrel away, are you?”
She smiled in her usual, reserved way. “I suppose one of us has to claim him.”
“Let it be you, then,” Grandfather said with a laugh.
My teeth ground together.
Grandfather continued, oblivious. “Derek and I are all done here, Regina. I had a few updates to give, but we’ve finished with that and are simply bemoaning difficult days. Bianca and I have a few matters to speak about, I believe?”
He sent me a questioning look. I nodded. Did I imagine Regina’s spine stiffening?
“Thank you, Ambassador,” she said. “I hope to have him returned for good very soon.”
For good?
Soon?
Papa leaned close, chucked me on the shoulder with a gentle touch of his fist. He pressed a kiss on top of my head as he stood. “Take care of yourself, B? Let me know if any more fires pop up, will you?”
“You’re busy with your own life,” I parried back.
More tension filled my tone than I meant to convey, but I couldn’t take it back now. A funny expression crossed his face. Before I could interpret it, he straightened. The door creaked as Regina stepped back, into the hall. When she was gone, I breathed easier.
Papa left with another nod, the strange look cleared into something far more focused. Whatever the two of them did together, I had my suspicions it wasn’t easy, nor safe.
I turned, then startled when I found Grandfather staring hard at me. His hands were folded in front of him, eyebrows held high. The door thudded to a close behind Papa, ensconcing us in the safety of Grandfather’s circular office.
“So,” he drawled.
“Please, Grandfather. Don’t bring up Regina and my father. If there’s one thing I don’t want to discuss right now, it’s the two of them.”
He lifted a placating hand. “I won’t, except to say that I’m here when you are ready to talk about it.”
Relieved, I could only nod. Grandfather leaned forward, arms resting on his desk. “What can I do for you, my dear?”
“How do you let go?”
He blinked. “Pardon?”
I cleared my throat. “I mean . . . when you know you should do something but you don’t know how to do it because you might be . . . afraid. . . of that thing. Or the things that follow that thing.”
“Ah.” Understanding flooded his expression. “I see. What is it that you should be doing?”
“Letting Letum Wood fight.”
His brow rose so far I almost laughed. “What are you referring to?”
Quickly as possible, I reviewed Aldred’s advice. Try as I might to fight it, I didn’t want to acknowledge that, unfortunately, our as-yet-unproven High Priest had a point.
A big one.
“The thought of bad things happening to Letum Wood frightens me. The forest will have to fight—I know that. I accept it. We’ll fight together, in fact, but . . . I don’t like it.”
He nodded. “Understandable. You have a special connection that most witches will never know or understand.”
“There’s a distinct possibility that my life is tied to the forest.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t. It’s a hunch.”
Grandfather’s musing face softened a little. He regarded me, head tilted to the side, when he murmured. “These are the problems of adulthood, you realize?”
“Adulthood is the worst.”
He laughed. “Yes, it’s very difficult, but you’re doing a fantastic job. Let me give you the secret.”
“Please do.”
“You trust.”
“In what?”
“The forest. In its will to live, in its desire to learn and grow. The only way we learn and become a better version of ourselves is to stumble. So . . . you let the forest stumble. The more you hold it back, the more difficult it becomes. Basic teenager arithmetic, if you ask a parent.”
“But . . . something might go wrong and it’ll die anyway.”
“It might.”
I blinked. “So . . . I just let it die?”
“I have my doubts it will be that drastic, whatever happens. You certainly have done many things wrong, yet here you are. Consider your mother and father and what they went through, sending you to school with Miss Mabel. Yet, they trusted you.”
I opened my mouth to counter, then closed it. A sparkle in his eye told me he’d anticipated such a thing.
“Didn’t Letum Wood rally to your side during the fire?” he asked.
“Yes. Perfectly.”
He leaned closer. “It will do so again. You have powerful instincts, my dear. Sometimes, they can work against you and to the detriment of the things you love most. Trust yourself and the forest. It’s the only way this will work.”
“That’s . . . scary.”
“The best things in life often are. Don’t think too hard on this one, B. Let yourself feel it, and the opportunity will come. Soon, you’ll understand what to do. Trust yourself first, and all the rest will follow.”
“Is it that easy?”
Another laugh. “It’s that simple. Easy is an entirely different word, my dear. Use it very carefully. Now, if you’re not busy, will you come to my apartment? I have some new herbs for you to try. They help with burns. I’m concerned you may be facing more of those very soon.”
* * *
Little Tomas smacked his lips, arched his back, then settled into my arms with a breath. His cherry cheeks, smooth as velvet, returned to their slack, sleepy state. Priscilla cast him an amused glance from where she sat across from me.
“How is motherhood?” I asked.
A rueful expression crossed her face. Grooves formed in her brow as she thought about her reply.
“Having a baby is a . . . challenging experience so far,” she said, voice thick with bemusement and fatigue. “And exhausting, mostly.”
Her pale skin, freckled and creamy, held bags under her eyes. Stress lines tugged at her lips as she leaned back, yawning into a hand.
In the corner, Ava sat at a desk. A parchment sprawled in front of her while a quill moved busily across the top of the page. Every now and then, she’d growl when a blob of ink splattered from the tip, but her focus remained true.
Priscilla followed my gaze, then whispered, “I don’t know what you said to Ava, but ever since she last saw you, she’s been so much more focused. She asked me if we could tailor her lessons around the sea, so I have. It’s changed everything.”
I smiled. “She just needed to know why learning mattered.”
A thoughtful expression followed. She shook it off. When Tomas gave a little mewl of sound, stretching his thin arms above a head of wispy hair, I handed him back. She accepted him with a coo and a warm smile.
When her gaze returned to me, concern filled it.
“I have a favor to ask,” she murmured. “That's why I sent a message to see if you could come.”
“Anything.”
“Can you check on Niko?”
“Why?”
She worried at her bottom lip with her teeth. “I haven’t heard from him in days, what with the storms ravaging the East and North. He was sending messages, and came to see Tomas as much as he could, but . . . I haven’t heard in awhile. I’m worried. The Chatterer reports are so frightening, and the storm so big.”
Outside, a gray mat of clouds had moved in overnight. No rain, no wind, just silent, steady sky cover. Both of us glanced at the window, then back, and shared a dark look of uncertainty.
Tears filled her eyes, sparkling in the muted light. She attempted to blink them away, but one dropped down her cheek. She wiped at it with the back of a hand and a pathetic chuckle.
“I’m sorry, I’m so emotional these days.”
I reached across the space, grabbed her hand. “No apologies. Of course I’ll go check on Niko. I can go now. I was just going to wander around Chatham to see if demigods had appeared anywhere. Nothing to report.”
“Really? I didn’t expect you to take off so soon, but I’d be so grateful.”
I nodded.
Relief rippled through her. “Thank you, Bianca. I don’t even care if you talk to him, I just want someone to see that he’s all right. I can’t stop thinking about him, and I’m worried. Celia took the Chatterer away so I couldn’t read the headlines anymore, which has helped.”
“Probably wise.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes again. “I have made no promises to Niko, but I have finally seen him return to the man I once loved. I don’t want Tomas to grow up without his father. Niko loves him so much and I . . . I appreciate the support and help he’s given.”
I stood. “I’ll be back shortly, Priscilla. I’m sure everything is fine.”
Ava glanced up, smiled from across the room. I returned it. Voices from the forest stopped me.
The ill-fated have returned.
They attack.
We shall respond.
I tensed with their words, immediately attempting to find out where. No further information followed. I opened my mouth to tell Priscilla I’d check on Niko later, but stopped when Priscilla tipped her head back, gave me a watery smile.
“Thank you, Bianca. I’ll sleep so much better tonight.” She laughed. “What little sleep I do get, I mean.”
Hope and relief had finally returned to her face. I paused, torn, when more trees joined the others.
We protect you.
You protect us.
We have power.
“I totally understand,” I said to Priscilla. “Put concern out of your mind. I’ll be back with a full report soon.”
Fear compelled me out of the school, into the trees. I darted across the grounds and out the still-broken wrought-iron gate. Once out of sight of Priscilla, I skidded to a stop.
“Where?” I called, head tilted back.
Arborra replied. The demigods return. They are near a small town, prepared to fight. What they want, we cannot be sure.
“Take me there.”
We can protect them.
I paused, breath suspended. All the forest seemed to hold still while I considered Arborra’s declaration.
“What will you do?”
Stop them. Obtain the amulet, as you so thirst to do.
Grandfather’s advice sprinted through my mind. Trust yourself and the forest. It’s the only way this will work. A painful lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it back. Of course the forest could stop the demigods.
Hadn’t it before?
“Do you have a plan?”
We do.
Indecision warred with fear. What if trees were hurt? Witches? What if the demigods escaped? If another amulet got away . . . Reality brought me out of my spiral of anxiety even more quickly. Hadn’t the demigods disappeared—with their amulets—with me attempting to stop them?
More than once.
If situations like this continued, demigods might come in numbers greater than what we could handle. Since the dragons and the Council still hesitated in their respective support, I had to lean elsewhere. There was nowhere else to go but Letum Wood. Besides, getting rid of the demigods would be more than enough to prove capability. If I allowed Letum Wood this chance to fight, I could also check on Niko.
With a wave of my hand, I said, “Then save the town. Grab an amulet or two, if you can,” I added as a wry aside. Then I said firmly, “I trust you.”
As we trust you.
A symphony broke in my mind, so loud I jumped. Trees wove together in musical refrains, a joyful chorus. I laughed, half-startled, half-amused.
“Bloodthirsty, are you?”
We protect you.
You protect us.
“Tell me if you need help, Arborra? I need to go to the East. I’ll return.”
With my heart pounding in my throat, I issued the incantation to take me to the East. The distance would test my connection with Letum Wood in new ways, and my trust in all the ways, but I leaned into the unknown, as Grandfather had encouraged me.
Letum Wood could do this.
I believed that now.