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“Juniper’s in a place where she can’t be hurt,” I tell her.
She nods, but I can see the grief so close to the surface.
“We should have a service for her,” I say, and in this moment, I feel horrible for not thinking of it before now.
Kendall’s expression is a mixture of hope and uncertainty. “Here?”
“Sure. Why not? We can honor her memory from here just as easily as anywhere.”
“You’re right.” She brightens. “That’s a great idea. When should we do it?”
“How about now?”
“You mean in here?”
“Of course not, Juniper needs to be remembered outside.” I walk to the wardrobe and snag a fresh shirt, discarding my blood-soaked one. Then I grab my scarf, rewrapping my face as I move toward the door. “Come on. I know a place.”
I half-expect Legion to be camped outside my door, ready to lock me inside. But the hallway is empty as I lead Kendall toward the back doors. Not even Chaya has made an appearance, which is weird, considering how attentive she’s been until now.
It’s a strange sort of quiet. Not like the other times I’ve come this way. But I tell myself it’s just me and the weird day I’ve had.
Outside, rather than following the wide path that I know leads to the stone courtyard Legion likes to use as a dramatic exit, I turn left at the first crosspath, heading deeper into the thick gardens. Here, the path is narrow, the tall hedges and climbing ivy pressing in around us. It’s comforting and peaceful, like being wrapped in a cocoon.
“Oh, this is perfect,” Kendall says from behind me.
At the end of the path, a thicket of trees sprawls to our left, the woods extending down a heavily-graded hillside. On the right, the cliff’s edge that seems to wrap around the entire backside of the property rushes up to meet us.
Wandering into the trees, I find an acorn on the ground and pick it up. Kendall waits while I choose a spot and then bury it beneath a few inches of dirt. When I’m done, I stand back and look over at my sister. “Do you want to say anything?”
“Sure.” She looks down at the freshly turned dirt, softening. “Juniper, you were a second mother for me. You were always there for us and made sure I felt loved and cared for. You taught me how to cook. How to take care of the earth and how to tap into my own power. I love you and miss you so much.”
She sniffles and then nods at me, eyes watery.
I look down at the loose dirt, my heart aching. “Juniper, we are so grateful for your sacrifice. You protected us when—” Emotion clogs my throat. I swallow hard against it. “I will never forget what you did for us. Tell Mom and Dad we love them.”
With tears streaming, I call on my gifts and send a burst of power into the acorn. A moment later, the dirt loosens, and a seedling sprouts from the ground. It winds its way upward, thickening as it goes until a young tree stands before us. The trunk is thin but strong, and the leaves that sprout from the narrow branches are a healthy green.
“It’s perfect,” Kendall says, sniffling.
The leaves shimmer in the moonlight then begin to split. I stare, confused and a little horrified, as the leaves multiply into groups of three, taking on a very specific teardrop shape.
Kendall reaches for the tree.
“Stop!”
She jerks back. “What?”
“Don’t touch it,” I say.
“Why not?”
Fear curls in my gut. “It’s poison.”
“What kind of… Oh, wait, is that poison oak?”
“Yes.”
Kendall turns to me, eyes wide. “How? You planted an acorn. This should be an oak tree. I don’t get it.”
