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Ellen laughed. “Yes. I could. But I need something tangible to focus on right now. Besides, I’m told that doing things the non-magical way builds character.”
“Okay,” Peter said. He turned to me. “Don’t you go lifting anything heavy.”
“Oh, and so it begins,” Ellen said and smiled.
I took a couple of empty boxes up to the room that Iris and Connor had shared for longer than I’d been alive. I opened his closet and pulled out his rack of ties and his three suits—two dark ones and the tan one he wore during Savannah’s hottest months. Those went into the first box. Next, I swept his shirts up in my arms, leaving them on their hangers. As I shuffled over to lay them on the bed, his scent rose up around me like a shroud. I tossed the shirts down and started removing the hangers. Folding them up as fast as I could, I stacked them into another open box. There was a lot more of Connor in this room than I’d be able to cart out in two cardboard containers. A sense of heaviness began to overwhelm me, and I left off to go grab a few more boxes from the library.
Ellen and Peter were nowhere in sight when I returned, so I grabbed some of the still flattened containers and headed back upstairs. The door to the room had swung shut behind me, so I had to fumble with the doorknob, the boxes awkwardly tucked under my arm. When I stepped into the room, I felt all hope abandon me. I sat on the side of the bed, put my head in my hands, nearly crushed by the weight of my sorrow. I felt more than saw a movement, and lifting my head, I caught a glimpse of Connor in the mirror. The misery I was feeling was radiating from him. I knew then that Savannah had refused to grant him peace or pardon him for his sins.
THIRTY-ONE
Three of the witches arrived early to prepare the house and grounds for the investment. The ceremony would take place outside, so I sought sanctuary from their activities in one of the library’s wingback chairs. But in spite of my best efforts, I found myself at least momentarily in the thick of it. Rivkah Levi, a tornado from New York, swept past me, Emmet in tow. The two were meticulously searching the house for energy leaks or ingresses. It was important for all of the psychic energies be balanced and accounted for before the anchor energy was settled on Maisie. “It’s worse than cleaning for Pesach,” Rivkah said to me cheerfully as she dragged Emmet away.
Bodaway Jones, who was loaded down with enough silver and turquoise to fill a jewelry store, drifted by me, chanting and fanning a smudge stick with a feather. He nodded an acknowledgment of my presence without stopping his chant. His intent was to drive all of the negative presences from the house. I wondered if I should warn him about Connor, but I didn’t have the heart to tear another layer of skin off Iris. If he was doing his job correctly, he might catch Connor up in his net without Iris ever having to know.
Ekala Maringar had arrived with the other two, but she’d disappeared into a guest room soon afterward and hadn’t come out for food, water, or anything since. I occasionally caught snatches of her voice from behind the closed door. Ekala was living in dreamtime, working with her ancestors to weave the silver cord that would bind the line to Maisie, or at least that’s what Bodaway had told me. It was of the utmost importance for no one to disturb her, so I gave her room a wide berth when I could.
The truth of the matter was that the whole process struck me as absurd. In the end, the whole event would probably hold all the charm and allure of a justice of the peace wedding, but they were all building it up to be a full-fledged coronation. I’d never had the taste for pomp and circumstance, so I wasn’t in the least bit hurt when they sat me down and explained that only those born of the power could be present for the ceremony. Rivkah had very diplomatically requested that I find some other place to be while it was taking place, and I was more than happy to oblige. “We’ll skip all this, won’t we, buddy?” I asked my child, not sure if there was a soul in there yet to respond to me. Even if there wasn’t, something about knowing that Colin was growing inside of me made me feel at peace.
“Who are you talking to?” Oliver asked, stopping to place a kiss on my forehead.
“I am talking to Colin,” I said proudly. “And we both think we should get out of the way of all of these witches for a while.”
“Well, Mr. Colin,” Oliver said. “I figure that you are about the luckiest soon-to-be-in-the-world boy for having such a beautiful and understanding mother. I hate that you are being chased out of here,” he said, meeting my eyes. “But you saw what happened at the drawing of the lots. We like to pretend that everything is cut-and-dried, but things can easily go wrong when you have ten strong personalities playing volleyball with a nuclear bomb.”
“How can this be safe for Maisie?” I asked. “She was sent off for less than two weeks of training, and now she’s expected to come back and anchor our end of the line.”
Oliver smiled. “Gingersnap, this may seem like a strange concept to you, but even though she’s only been gone for a few days on our timeline, she’s been gone for years on her timeline. She’s had plenty of training, and the training has been with the anchor. Maisie has received very special treatment. Gudrun does not make herself available to just anyone.”
I wasn’t in the mood to get into how well acquainted I was with time’s capriciousness. Suddenly I realized that the loud ticking of Ginny’s discount store clock had served some purpose for her. The incessant and repetitive noise must have been like a subconscious metronome that had helped her keep the line in sync with our dimension. I wondered if Maisie would find such a tool useful, and whether I should get one for her. Or maybe the other anchors would include one in her welcome basket. Congratulations on your investment and good luck with taking on the weight of the world!
“Will this Gudrun be part of the investment ceremony?” I asked instead.
“No, she no longer exists on our plane,” Oliver said. I could tell that there was a lot he wasn’t saying.
“I saw her once,” I said.
Oliver’s face turned gray. “That can’t be,” he said.
“No, I did. I saw her and Maisie through the mirror when I was borrowing your power.”
“Did she see you?” Oliver asked, his usually smooth forehead crinkling.
“Yes, but only for a moment. She waved her hand and broke the connection.”
“I see,” he said. “Listen, Mercy, it would be best if you didn’t even think about Gudrun again.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said unimpressed. “Ellen already warned me. Force of nature and all that.”
“No, sweetheart, you need to listen. Don’t do anything to draw Gudrun’s attention.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Listen, Gudrun is not where she is by choice but as punishment. She won’t be a part of the investment because she isn’t allowed back into our world. Working with Maisie was less of a goodwill gesture than it was an act of penance on her part. And,” he added, “a warning on Maisie’s part. For your sake, for Colin’s sake, leave this one alone.”
“Okay,” I said, appropriately chastened. “I won’t pull any more loose strings.”
“Good,” he said, relief transforming his face back into a youthful mask. “And while we’re on the subject of people you should stay away from, I don’t want to hear about you hanging out with Jilo again.” He pointed upstairs. “We’ve broken her link to the linen closet. You should have never kept it secret from us.”
“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
