Page 40 of Dragon Her Heels

NINE

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

The node, left to its own devices without purpose, had tangled itself into a knot, eating away at itself. At first, I bounced off the edges of the pulsing energy, but once I located a stray tendril, one that led deeper into the mass, much like a child learning how to cope with a messy ball of string, I began to unravel the mess. The castle, which I detected as a cold and lifeless form beneath the thriving lake’s bottom, became the anchor I used to revive the node’s magic.

At first, the node fought me, resisting my attempts to pull the first of the threads out of its center. Inch by inch, I won as I situated the other loops of lost energy. Once I had enough length to secure the connection to the node, I applied pressure, keeping a firm grip on the line. For a few long moments, I worried the node would refuse to cooperate.

Then the whole thing stirred, and the line relaxed. I kept an eye on it along with the lightest of touches before diving back into the fray to locate a new end. Within a few moments, I found a choice of five, each differing in strength. I considered my options and decided to work with the thinnest of them, hoping if I secured it to the castle like the first one, it might strengthen.

I could also break it, which would be an issue.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Bracing for disaster, I seized the strand and began the tedious process of following it, working out the knots, and separating it from the other lines, all stronger and more robust than the one I coaxed. While I worked, I did the equivalent of looping the energy into a bundle to keep it from tangling again as I pulled more and more from the node’s heart. To my relief, despite its length, I was able to find where it connected, its base thicker than the rest by far.

What should have been several inches thick had been reduced to not even suitable to be sewn with.

Careful to keep from snapping the fragile strand, I eased it to the castle, found an arch connecting to the foundation, and secured it. Unlike the first line, the node offered no resistance, allowing me to do my work without testing me.

I released the original strand and did the equivalent of eyeing it with my magic.

It remained fixed in place.

Line by line, I secured the node to the castle, working as close to the building’s foundation as I could. As I worked deeper, each thread began to warm, offering a soft and pale radiance, giving me an even better view of what I worked with.

While I could have done the work with my eyes open, the lack of distractions from the real world served me well. The minutes slid away and likely bled into hours, but I worked in a slow and steady pace, unwilling to make a single error with something so precious.

I remembered Michael’s tone, one of mixed sadness and hope. However, the Devil’s regrets firmed my resolve.

Michael appreciated the node, of that I was certain, but for Lucifer, it was something deeper, something far more personal. One day, I might have the courage to ask.

Today was not that day.

Today, I would endure the pain of a fulfilled prophecy, locking myself into a reality rather than living in the shadows of possibility. The dragon might not come immediately, but he would come, and I would be the reason why.

I could live with that.

I couldn’t live with being the reason the node faded away and perished.

After what felt like an eternity, I took the final strand in gentle hands, freeing it from the weave I’d created to secure each line to the castle. In my effort to keep the strands secure and prevent fraying, I’d braided them together in an elaborate pattern, one that would be strong enough to withstand time without losing its shape. Then I took hold of the node’s heart and began the process of twisting the braid together, adding another layer of power. I coiled the resulting rope around the castle’s foundation, and after doing the equivalent of walking around the place, I located the center, coaxing the energy to take up residence in its new home in a lower basement level just beneath the stone flooring, where it would be safe and dry.

“I had assumed, as old things such as I do, that I would not see another working like this, not since the fates were released and chose eternal slumber as their reward,” a still and quiet voice informed me. I recognized the sensation of the presence, cold with a spark of warmth.

We had met the day I had brushed hands with my death and had embraced becoming a hedge witch. With only a little work left, I ignored my unexpected guest long enough to lift my hand and guide the castle towards the lake’s surface. As I went, I encouraged the silt and wildlife to make way. As I disliked the idea of algae and unspeakable messes clinging to the stone, I encouraged the filth to slough off the castle walls.

New tendrils of magic sprouted from the node, and while tentative, they took up my cause, working at restoring the castle to its former glory while I focused on raising it from the depths.

The process took long enough for me to draw three breaths, and on the fourth, I sighed. “I remember you, but I don’t know your name.”

“I am Azrael, and I walked with you through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and rather than cross over to your eternal rest, you opted for life. And while not your intention then and not your intention now, you face as close to an immortal life as a mortal can get.”

Ah. Another archangel. I opened my eyes, beholding an ancient castle with soaring spires and an almost gothic vibe but in a style unlike anything I’d seen before. “I appreciated your company then, and I appreciate it now,” I replied.

I liked to believe I made the archangel smile despite his lack of a head.

“Lucifer has noticed your working, and he is quite miffed you have adjusted his schedule on him yet again. I approve. It is good for there to be an agent who plays by nobody’s rules. But that is what it is to be a hedge witch—and both the first and the last of your kind.”

“Are the Fates gone, then?” They were the only mythical entities I could think of that matched what it was to be a hedge witch.