Page 56 of Thistle Thorns

He rolled his eyes. “Because it must be returned freely to me. I cannot simply take it.”

Though I just wanted to punch my hand through the mirror to get it over with quickly, second thoughts had me suspecting the mirror was like a crystal—it was better to go slow, to feel it out, in case it was charged with magic that would have me sprawling on my fanny.

The surface was cold to the touch, though that could’ve just been from the night air, and dimpled beneath the slight pressure of my knuckles. The mirror didn’t ripple, for it hadn’t become liquid, merely allowed my hand to pass with barely a wrinkle in its surface. But what was eerier still was the fact I could see my fist with the glowing ring on my finger on the opposite side of this In-Between, stretching towards Arcadis. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that while my fist should be extending past the mirror and into the open space behind it in the forest clearing, it very much was not.

A shudder wracked through me as Arcadis reached out and enclosed my hand in both of his. His touch was surprisingly gently, and he flashed a wicked smile at me when I jumped in surprise. “Oh yes, little witch,” he purred. “I know when to use force and when a lighter touch is needed.”

His skin was warm while the flesh where I made contact with the mirror was decidedly cool. Arcadis’s crimson eyes held my gaze as his thumbs swept lazy circles over the back of my hand, tilting the wrist so the ring faced upwards. Maintaining his stare, he bent down and kissed the ring, his lips enveloping the gold band and pressing moistly against my fingers.

CREEP! my whole body shouted.

When the ring reemerged, the white diamonds had become like rubies. Arcadis still held my hand, his thumbs still lazily caressing, and said, “A portal will open for you alone now, Misty, so long as you have the Wandering Mirror. You have until the zenith of the winter solstice, little witch.”

It took every ounce of my willpower and then some not to yank my hand out of his and thrust it into a pot of boiling water to sanitize it. “I understand.”

“Now accept my bargain, little thief. Say the words.”

“I accept.”

Though we were in two different realms, the same puff of wind blew against our faces, ruffling our hair and sealing our bargain.

Finally, finally, he let go, and I extracted my fist, the coolness of the mirror wicking away his heat and the imprint of his lips. I swept it behind my back and rubbed it against my sweater, just to be sure.

We didn’t say goodbye. Arcadis simply gave me a sharp nod, took a step back, and the mirror turned black.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

My family collapsed. Six witches fell to the frozen earth, and Aunt Eranthis hurried to revive them. Grandmother bent down and retrieved the weakened hearth ember, snapping the censer shut and pressing it into my palm. Then she went to help her niece, cursing lowly as she discovered the state of her coven.

The matriarch of the Hawthorne coven set her glowing green hands first on one witch and then the next, sparing what magic she had left to replenish their strength. Aunt Eranthis did the same, and I would have aided them had not my cell phone started to buzz like it had a cicada trapped inside. Only four people would be texting me at this hour, and if it was any one of them, it was worth checking out.

With Dart the pixie astride his shoulders, Sawyer rose from his crouch at my feet and pricked his ears as I opened the text message from Arthur: He’s here! Stay inside.

“Grandmother!” I rushed to the nearest family member—Otter—and hauled him upright. “The magic hunter’s back. We have to get to the farmhouse.”

“Don’t let go of that hearth ember,” she ordered. “Everyone, we’re leaving the mirror here. Come on!”

Grunting, she strained to lift Mom and Aunt Peony to their feet. Dad was upright, shaking his head like he was trying to clear sweat out of his eyes and stumbling. Uncle Badger and Aunt Hyacinth were leaning against each other, arms linked around each other’s waist. I was slinging Otter’s arm around my shoulders when a familiar, “Yoohoo!” echoed through the empty forest.

No, not empty.

A mist had formed.

Otter grunted when I twisted around to find Daphne with her blackthorn shillelagh and Flora with her beechwood wand trudging through the mist-shrouded trees.

“We do not have time for this,” Grandmother growled, pushing Mom and Aunt Peony towards the orchard. They staggered forward on weak legs, clutching each other for support. Aunt Peony moaned miserably as her ankle twisted with her next step.

“What are you doing here?” I asked my friends, barely sparing them a glance as I frantically looked past them for any sign of Antler Tattoo. My family was primed for an attack, and I wasn’t sure Grandmother, Aunt Eranthis, and I could defend everyone from his strange and powerful magic.

“We saw the light through the trees,” Daphne answered, stopping at the edge of the moonflowers.

“’Sup, Sawyer?” Flora greeted, smiling broadly.

The tomcat’s ears lowered as he returned to his hunch.

The elegant older woman gave the clearing a wide-eyed look. “What’s going on here?”

“She and Arcadis had a little chat,” Otter slurred. “It was not fun.”

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