Leda stepped onto a trail that started at my back door and wound into the trees.
Her skirt rustled as it trailed down my steps. Her petite, aged boots left slender tracks in her wake. I followed, the cool dirt firm against my bare feet, while Leda continued a debate which had started minutes before.
“I’m just saying that Scarlett isn’t wrong for the position she’s taken with the Council.”
“She’s dependent on Aldred to manage her relationship with them,” I cried. “That holds a potential for weakness based on whatever action he takes. He’s too aligned with the Council, anyway. That’s all I’m trying to say.”
Leda glared prettily. “He’s not, Bianca. Besides, she’s put more time into the Council than your father ever did.”
“Right, and now look at Georgette. She’s power hungry and obvious about it.”
The comment earned an eye roll.
“Georgette is straightforward, not hungry. There’s a difference, believe it or not. I’ll concede that there’s a reliance on Aldred that could backfire one day. For now, we have a war with gods to get through and the Network is in crisis mode. Scarlett’s relationship with Aldred and the Council has created more productivity and harmony, which we need. That productivity has opened Scarlett’s schedule to work with the other Networks to plan for a potential war with gods, at the least.”
A beat of contemplative silence passed before Leda added, “Georgette has a point about the dragons, though. It’s a logistical nightmare.”
“No one said that when they defended Chatham City from the Clavas.”
“Because they had a forced obligation. No such binding compels them now. Besides, witches weren’t even sure forest dragons still existed a few years ago. They’d been out of sight for so long, they were believed extinct. It’s only recently they’ve stirred back into sight so often.”
“Maybe Deasylva will demand protective help from them, if we’re not going to work with them.”
She arched a brow. “Maybe?”
I faltered.
“Deasylva,” she continued in a low drawl, “in whom most witches still don’t believe?”
“That doesn’t make her unreal.”
“Then ask your goddess.”
I scowled. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that easy. Leda sighed. “Bianca, don’t be obtuse. You just don’t like Georgette because she didn’t implicitly agree with you.”
“That’s not true.”
“Georgette is infuriating, though,” she muttered. Leda’s irate huff delighted me. At least we had some common ground. She eyed me askance as she dodged over a purple mushroom.
“The entire Council is infuriating. I don’t understand how you deal with them every day. Did they say anything after I left?”
“Absolutely nothing about dragons. Or about you,” she tacked on mercilessly.
I growled. Any lingering hope dissipated, but it hadn’t been very strong anyway. Leda lifted her chin, patting hair back into place behind her ears.
“What now? You put your suggestion forward to the Council and they stomped it into the ground, as expected.”
“Do you really want to know?”
She hesitated. “Do I?”
“It’s hard to tell.”
A slowly-forming plan hatched in the depths of my concerns for the forest. Simple, as the best plans were, but not easy. It involved a conversation with Nicholas, perhaps an approach to the dragons with him. With two small children at home, he’d be the witch I’d work with the most. Michelle would stay with the girls.
Once I pulled the dragons to our side? I’d go to Scarlett—without Leda’s permission—and tell her my plan.
First, however.
Dragons.
“Georgette did me a favor, if you think about it,” I said to Leda’s waiting quiet. “She basically gave me permission to do what I wanted to protect Letum Wood.”
“That’s not what she meant.”
“If she wants to clarify that, that’s her business, not yours. Meanwhile, I’ll take matters into my own hands. If the Council has an issue with what I come up with, I’ll remind them of what she said. Might be better anyway . . .”
Leda sighed. “That’s what I’m worried about.”
A world of opportunity lay at my feet and my instincts circled the dragons. If the Council wouldn’t call Nicholas and Michelle and ask them to do it, then I’d do it myself. The easiest next step.
Short of finding the dragons myself, anyway, which seemed like the worst possible idea. A shudder skimmed through me. Last time I stumbled on dragons in Letum Wood, the red had almost eaten me. Only Nicholas’s timely intervention kept me from the blanket of fire and basket of teeth.
Forest voices lifted in my mind, like they’d just woken up. Their unusually shrill tone stopped me. My hand clamped around Leda’s upper arm. She spun with a glare. Her irritation faded when I held a finger to my lips, too aware of how still the forest had become. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.
They come for you.
They are many, hiding in darkness.
You belong to us.
They are many, hiding in darkness.
A skein of moss drifted in front of my face. My eyes crossed as I viewed it. In Letum Wood, not surprising. In a quiet magical forest unusually bereft of life?
Bad sign.
I sucked in a sharp breath and tilted my head back. Pearlescent, shiny teeth in a wide mouth gleamed aloft, dripping saliva. Ratty mane. Full chest, darkened with a mat of hair. Long, lithe legs crouched on a branch thirty paces overhead, near the juncture of the tree and the branch. Groups of coiled muscles looked ready to leap as it panted. A foul odor tinted the air.
A forest lion.
With a tug, I pulled Leda behind me and released her arm. My hand went to Viveet, who had already warmed in anticipation.
“Transport, Leda.”
She paused, breath held. The fact that the lion hadn’t pounced yet was a good sign. She eyed it, then me. Several seconds passed in which nothing happened.
“What is it doing?”
The lion stared, chest rhythmically rising and falling in the deep heat. With a half-purr, half-growl, it settled back on its haunches. No dried blood on its paws or lips indicated a recent meal. Not even a slightly pink tinge to the fur around its snout. So why didn’t it attack?
What was it doing?
They are many, hiding in darkness.
You belong to us.
We protect you.
A shuffle of movement overhead drew my gaze higher. Leda sucked in a sharp breath. All the way up the tree, forest lions lounged on branches. They licked their paws, faces. Some peered at me. Others lolled on their backs, anchored to branches by their overly-long tails. One appeared so slack it might be dead.
“Twenty,” I murmured.
“That’s the biggest pack I’ve ever seen. Forest lions live in smaller packs, I thought. Six or seven.”
“At most.”
On instinct, I braced my weight more evenly through my feet, pushing the work into my legs. More firmly held now, I tightened my hold on Viveet, eyeing the calm, strange collection. Not only did they populate on the same tree, they didn’t move. Didn’t growl. Hardly a sound.
“Are the trees protecting us somehow?” Leda asked. Curiosity, more than fear, stained her tone.
“I’m not sure.”
“Can they communicate with the animals?”
We speak to all.
They are many, hiding in shadows.
They give allegiance.
“Allegiance?” I murmured. “To whom?”
They are many, hiding in shadows.
Tension strained Leda’s voice when she asked, “Well?”
“They aren’t clear, but I think . . . I think the lions aren’t going to eat us. Normally, the trees just warn me and I stay away from lion packs. I didn’t even think the trees could interfere until recently, but they must be able to communicate with animals.”
“Something is stopping them from attacking.”
“I don’t know what,” I whispered helplessly.
A roar overhead—the lion at the very top—made Leda gasp. She shuffled back a step, startled, and grabbed my arm. I tensed and pulled Viveet out of her sheath just enough that she blazed with light.
One forest lion scowled, turned, and leaped blithely to another branch. It slunk into the mossy canopy. Another followed, then another. One at a time, they faded into the depths of Letum Wood until all of them were gone except for the one closest to us. He glared, then snorted.
He disappeared with magic.
Sheer shock, and a transportation spell, took us the rest of the way to Miss Priscilla’s School for Girls.
Leda and I stood outside the old gate, which still hadn’t been fixed. The rickety, squeaky thing didn’t clasp, and no amount of magical fix-it spells seemed to last long. As if the cantankerous old metal repelled our attempts in a desire to be difficult. Leda stared at the old manor, brow furrowed, but didn’t appear to see it.
I shared her befuddlement.
“Did we imagine it?” she asked breathlessly.
“No.”
“The forest lion . . .”
“Used magic.”
The gnomes skirted through my mind. Gnomes having magical abilities seemed like a fluke. An oversight, perhaps, because no one studied the gnomes all that deeply. Their deep loathing of witches made it almost impossible.
A pack of twenty forest lions, none attacked, and one of them transported?
Not an oversight.
“Something weird is happening in the forest,” I said.
“I can see that.”
I drew in a deep breath and reached for the gate, but didn’t pull it open. Instead, I turned to look at her.
“Do you think—”
The squall of a crying baby stopped my words. My jaw slackened. Leda gasped. A pause of silence, then another lusty cry.
“Was that—” I cried.
Leda laughed. “Did she?”
In a blink, Leda was gone. She reappeared on the porch a second later, flinging open the door. I leapt over the fence and darted across the overgrown lawn. By the time I navigated through the halls and toward the tinny sounds of a cry, Leda stood just outside the dining room.
I skidded to a stop next to her.
The good gods.
Priscilla had the baby.
She sat on a rocking chair in the dining room, near a hearth with no fire. Her pale face was peaked, her eyes bruised with fatigue. She wore a fresh, white nightgown. A tiny bundle filled her arms, burrowed in what appeared to be a soft, downy blanket.
Niko knelt next to Priscilla, one hand on the child. They murmured back and forth in Ilese, the language of the Eastern Network. The lyrical sounds reminded me of a lullaby, and the baby began to calm.
Niko smiled at her, adoration in his eyes. The sound of Miss Celia humming in the other room filled the quiet, though I couldn’t imagine how they hadn’t heard us barreling into the school.
Leda shifted her weight to step inside and a floorboard groaned. Priscilla and Niko looked up. Priscilla beamed. Niko smiled and swept to his feet, surreptitiously wiping at the corner of his eye with a bent knuckle. Heat and warmth and delight and shock flooded me in a languid sweep, bringing goosebumps to my arms.
The baby had finally arrived!
“Leda, Bianca.” Priscilla’s head rested back against the rocking chair with a little sigh. “I’m so glad you’ve come. Please, do you want to meet our son?”
My eyes widened. A gasp curled in my throat.
“Son?”
Leda’s smile stretched wide. Clearly unable to help herself, she hurried across the room with a cry of, “Oh, Priscilla! You had the baby. A boy!”
A calm, though exhausted, smile lingered on Priscilla’s face. While Leda cooed over the child, I remained back, gaze on Niko. He leaned over, murmured something in Priscilla’s ear, and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. He spun, caught my gaze, and paused.
I tilted my head toward the hallway in silent question. Despite my eagerness to see the baby, I’d never pry him away from Leda in the next fifteen minutes. She might not want children of her own, but she’d make the best aunt in the world.
Niko nodded.
I stepped out first.
Niko laughed, running a trembling hand through his hair, and said in disbelief, “It’s only been six hours.”
“Six hours?”
He shook his head, rubbing his hand over tired, bloodshot eyes. “No, more than that. A day. Two? I can’t remember. She was in labor for a long time then . . . he was here. It’s all . . . so strange. How do you say it in the common language? Ah. Surreal.”
“I can’t imagine, Niko. I’m so happy for you. Especially because, well . . .”
I faltered, uncertain how to say it. Priscilla hadn’t been sure she’d let Niko know about the birth until after. Clearly, she’d overcome her objections to let him be here for the experience. A story lurked somewhere in all these unknowns, and I couldn’t wait to hear all about it. Whatever pushed her to allow Niko to be part of the birth of their child, it appeared to be the right decision.
He blinked at me with a bleary gaze. “For all our history, she had mercy on me. Allowed me to be here for his birth. Priscilla sent a message and I came right away.”
Tears swam in his eyes. He swallowed the emotion back, his voice husky. “Bianca, I cannot . . . I cannot tell you how this feels. The love in my heart. I . . . he is my son.”
His reverence touched me deep in my heart. I pressed a hand to my chest with a quiet smile.
“He looked perfect to me.”
Tears brightened his gaze. “A boy. My son. Tommaso.”
I reached out, squeezing his hand. “Congratulations.”
He startled me by tucking me into a tight embrace, crushing me against his chest with an exultant laugh. He smelled faintly of chamomile and calendula, herbs my grandmother Hazel gave to every new mother. Celia’s doing, no doubt.
When he pulled away, another exultant cry bubbled out of him. “I am the luckiest witch alive. I must go, declare the good news. I . . . I have a son. Tell Priscilla I’ll return? I want to help her tonight. She needs rest. So much rest. I will be here. A few things I must do first. Another hurricane has come.”
“Another one?”
“This is the biggest we’ve seen.” He grimaced. “Terrible timing, isn’t it? On the southern coast. There’s another in the north. There is fear they could merge, but . . . no. It will be fine.”
Oddly terrible timing, in fact.
“Isn’t it a little early for hurricanes?”
“Very. There’s flooding everywhere and this one is not showing signs of stopping. I must go back, help my witches. It’s difficult, but I’ll make it work. For my son! I’ll be back!”
Unable to pierce his haze of joy, I nodded. “I’ll let her know.”
“Tell her not to bathe him without me?”
“I will.”
Delirious with joy—and perhaps lost sleep—Niko left. I stared at the spot where he’d been standing, flooded with questions. Who would he tell? What did this mean for the Eastern Network? The ruling High Priest just had a child with a woman that wasn’t his wife.
Implications would follow.
A dozen realizations occurred with that one, namely around Priscilla. Was she safe here? Would anyone in the Eastern Network attempt to harm her and the baby? I frowned at the thought.
No, Niko would never let that happen.
Before I could transport after Niko to ask, I glanced toward the doors to the manor. A hunch urged me to call out in broken Ilese, “Reveal yourself, Guards. I know you’re there. If you don’t, I’ll find someone else to protect her.”
One East guard appeared at the door. I lifted an eyebrow. With a vexed sigh, he tilted his head to the left. When I stepped farther away from the manor, another East Guard stepped into view from around the corner. On the back door, no doubt.
I nodded, relieved.
Time for the important stuff.
I hurried back into the house, eager to see Priscilla and meet Tommaso. Leda sat on a chair next to Priscilla, baby in arms. Priscilla spoke quietly. Fatigue, an occasional grimace, crossed her face every now and then. Celia bustled into the room with a bright smile and tray.
“Oh, there you are, Bianca,” Celia called. “Just the girl I wanted to see. Do you know where I can find a witch hazel bush?”
“Yes, several.”
She beamed. “Can you have me some by tomorrow?”
You belong to us.
We care for yours.
Startled by the intervention of the trees in my mind, I could only blink at first. Celia sent me a strange look—no doubt confused by my stymied silence—before I shook my head.
“Of course, Celia. I’ll bring some to you this evening.”
“Wonderful, thank you!”
We care for yours, the trees whispered.
I gazed outside, stalling mid-step. Since when did the trees pay attention to my conversations? Had they always? That line of thought derailed my progress across the room until the tray that Celia carried clattered onto a small table next to Priscilla. Celia murmured a few things, tutted at the baby, and bustled off.
Priscilla turned to me with a smile. “Please, Bianca, come meet Tommaso, though we have been calling him Tomas.”
Leda passed the tiny little bundle to me. He felt weightless in my arms. A wrinkled, red face peered out of the folds. Black hair ruffled out the top in silky strands. Leda tucked the blanket away from his left cheek, hooking it under his jaw, so I could see him better. He yawned, plump, tiny lips stretching wide. How miraculous that something could be so tiny, yet perfect.
“Priscilla, he’s wonderful.”
“I’m so grateful that’s over,” she admitted with a sheepish smile. “It’s the worst thing I’ve ever gone through. The greatest, too,” she added quietly.
A wince crossed her face as she readjusted on the chair.
“Well,” Leda said. “We never know what you’re going to do, Priscilla. We leave you to test Ava for a few days, and come back to find you had a baby. You’re quite efficient.”
Priscilla chuckled. Slowly, I settled onto an empty chair near Leda—not at all sure how to hold something so fragile. When his wet lips smacked, I couldn’t help the irresistible urge to touch the downy skin of his face with my knuckle.
“Niko was there the whole time,” Priscilla continued. “So supportive. Amazing, really. He already loves him so much.”
Leda eyed her, wary.
“And how do you feel about Niko being here? He certainly had an adoring gaze on you today.”
Priscilla sighed. “I’m relieved that he’s not ignoring the baby. It will be easier with his help. He’s sent food and clothing and . . . little Tomas will want for nothing. Absolutely nothing. As far as Niko? I can’t trust anything I feel right now. All I know for certain is that I feel tired, and sore, and everything hurts.”
Leda smiled. “Wonderful. Don’t worry about Niko. You have years to fret over that situation. For now, you rest. If you need any help breastfeeding Tomas, my mother has raised nine children now. She’ll be here in a spell if you need it.”
“Oh, that’s a great comfort, thank you.”
I opened my mouth to ask if she’d told her parents, but diverted at the last second. Better not to remind her of who wasn’t here.
“Does Michelle know?” I asked instead.
“Yes. She helped me through the worst of it.”
Leda squeezed Priscilla’s hand. “We’re all here for you, Cilla.”
Fatigue tugged at Priscilla’s face when I passed the baby back to Leda for one last snuggle, relieved to have him transferred safely out of my arms. Tomas wasn’t the first baby I’d held, but he certainly was the smallest. Leda cooed a few things and passed him back. She stood, lips pressed primly.
“Priscilla, you did wonderfully. Thank you for letting us visit. We’ll be back to check on you soon.”
Miss Celia hurried back just then.
“I must be aging more than I thought,” Celia said with a faint laugh. “There was a witch hazel bush right outside the back door! Can you imagine? It’s like I asked for it and it popped up. Don’t remember seeing it there, but with all we’ve had going on . . .”
She trailed away. Leda sent me a questioning look that I ignored. Another rise of whispers elevated in my mind, then calmed back down.
You belong to us.
We are yours.
Later that night, I stared at the shadows shifting on the ceiling. Merrick lay on his back on the floor, eyes closed, breaths even. Often, he appeared in the middle of the night, so silently I didn’t know he was there. Tonight, he’d simply settled there without a word of explanation.
Whatever he feared, sleeping on the floor near my bed settled it. I gave no opposition, grateful for the presence of another life. Merrick, in particular. My mind meandered through Priscilla, Letum Wood, the forest lions.
Finally, I slept.