“All that I know is that I’m here,” Kyden said through Tabitha.
Zephyr took a step forward. “We read your journal entry about what happened between Clarice Danvers and Matteo Cantini. Is it true? Sacred Sea was always the one behind the curse of the Heathens—”
“Do you know how to break the curse?” I interrupted because it was more important, and we didn’t know how much time we had.
“No,” Kyden stormed through Tabitha. “I only know this. Clarice was desperate and foolish and would have done anything, including to tempt and seduce another, even one from Sacred Sea. Then, on a separate occasion, she and Matteo fought in the caverns about our ancestors’ journals. There was a missing journal. The following day, Clarice disappeared and hasn’t been seen since. Foster Danvers went mad and took his own life, believing his wife had abandoned him. I’ve never confessed to what I’ve seen, and for that, I’ll remain a guilt-ridden spirit. But I did what I thought was best for the coven. The Danvers element may be absent from the Hollow Heathens, but you, Blackwell, are all four elements, embodying spirit, or the dark void depending on your shadow-blood. You are the key to holding this coven together. That is, if you don’t succumb to the darkness. You need to wake up, Blackwell!” the deep voice roared from the small girl, stunning all of us.
“You’re telling me Matteo got rid of her?” Beck threw his arms in the air, bringing the subject back to what was at stake. “Because she went to them for help? Because she may have stolen a book from them?”
Stolen a book. “Who’s journal?” I asked with urgency. Three books were missing from the Chamber. One of them had to hold the answers.
Tabitha’s head snapped to me. “That, I don’t know for certain. The Cantini’s are the keepers of secrets of Weeping Hollow. It is possible they know how the curse came to be, but if it can be broken? I’m not so sure.”
“Congratulations, Nix. You come from a line of idiots who are of no use,” Zeph stated dryly, darting a venomous green glare toward Phoenix.
“I don’t get it.” My fingers tapped vigorously against my thigh, and I stepped forward, needing more. “Why would she go through all this trouble? She already bound herself to Foster, accepted him for what he was. Accepted the curse as my mother had and every woman before her. Why would she betray her husband and steal books from the Order? Why would she care enough to risk everything?”
Tabitha straightened her spine. “Why would any take such extreme measures, turning into something they are not?”
Then it hit me, remembering a past I’d tried so hard to forget.
“For the love of a child,” I whispered.
And without warning, Tabitha slumped to the ground.
And the link to Kyden Wildes snapped.
Chapter 24
Fallon
Earlier, I’d skipped the Mabon parade in Town Square and all the dinners I’d been invited to, deciding to spend my evening with Gramps.
He couldn’t make it out of bed anymore. As each day passed, his body was shutting down, failing him. Weight dropped off him so fast over the last few weeks that skin hung from his bones and his cheeks were sunken in. If it weren’t for his stubbornness, he wouldn’t even be able to hold the pencil for his crossword puzzle. It was as if he’d muster a day’s worth of energy for that one task, the only thing he looked forward to.
Since Gramps hadn’t been able to get up to use the bathroom either, Mina Mae had been coming by every morning and night to help. Gramps argued, of course, but Mina was just as persistent. At first, I’d wondered why she was here, with Gramps and me, but then I’d noticed the look in her eyes, the same way Julian looked at me, and I knew it was because she cared deeply for him.
As I washed dishes, Mina came in from the living room and set down a basket filled with dirty clothes.
“He’s lucky to have yah,” she said, admiring me from the other side of the counter with her hand resting over the dirty pile. Between all the coming and going, we barely had a conversation that weighed more than Gramps’ grumbles.
I didn’t know how to answer. “We’re both the lucky ones.” I dried the last dish, set it over the yellow drying mat, and turned to face her. “And we’re extremely lucky to have you too. Seriously,” I sighed, “I don’t know how I could ever repay you for helping me out around here.”
She nodded, eyes wide. “It’s a lot, couldn’t let yah do this on your own.”
“Yeah,” I leaned back against the counter, “I’m glad I’m here, though.”
“I’m glad you’re here too, dear.” Mina picked up the basket and rested it over her hip. “I’ll wash these for yah, and don’t bothah tellin’ me othahwise.”
I laughed. “Hey, I’m not going to fight you on it.”
“Are you doing anything around town tonight?”
“I was thinking of staying in. You know, in case Gramps needs me.”
“Oh, he’s out. Benny won’t be wakin’ up for a long time.” Mina patted the counter and leaned over. “Do me a favor and go have some fun. It’s Mabon, and yah nevah know what could happen or luck you could turn around.” And she left with a wink before she disappeared behind the wall into the living room.
Hours later, Fable sat beside me over a log in front of the bonfire, the two of us passing a jug of homemade apple pie moonshine from Cyrus’ family’s cellar. Monday, Ivy, and Adora danced and twirled across the waterline, soaking the bottoms of their long, frilly dresses. They kicked the waves, water spraying as a thin slice of the moon hung in the sky. Fable and I sat back, watching the other three girls dance and sing with the wind like sirens from the sea.
Hippie Sabotage spilled from the old speaker planted in the sand, and Maverick threw another log over the bonfire, sending sparks of burning embers flying into the black sky. He returned to his seat beside Cyrus and shook his blond hair from his eyes in one sweep.
“Where’s Kane?” Maverick asked, sliding his gaze from Cyrus to me. “He should be here by now.”
Cyrus dropped his elbows onto his knees and poked a log with a long stick between his stretched thighs. “His old man wanted to talk,” he explained, then his light eyes looked up over the fire past me, his black brows raised. “Speaking of the devil.”
Kane walked toward us along the beach in drawstring linen pants and a partially unbuttoned white shirt, his bronzed skin shimmering like stars on the ocean’s surface. His soft brown hair was wild tonight, thick and blowing with the night air. He carried another bottle in one hand and lowered his hazel eyes to mine, the bruising on one already turning colors.
“You made it,” he said, his voice low, and I twisted my mood ring around my finger, wondering what mood he was in tonight. He paused behind me and dropped his head into my neck. “Thank you for coming.”
I nodded, and Kane straightened his posture behind me, walked around the fire, and took a seat between Maverick and Cyrus. His two strung-out eyes glared at me from across the bonfire’s waving flames, and he chugged from the bottle, the lump in his throat bobbing with every gulp.