Page 2 of Claiming Chaos

Shade’s head moved back and forth so quickly, he probably didn’t realize he was shaking it.

Miles nodded. “Do it. We can’t let another witch die.”

Chaos squeezed my hand, and a surge of demon power flowed into me, setting my nerves ablaze. I focused his chaos magic, channeling it into my being and casting my spell. “Uproot and end this magic source. Allow us to tread our intended course.”

I dropped the flakes into the hole, and a pulse of energy shot out, whipping my hair back and stinging my cheeks. A high-pitched ring filled my head as ice flushed my veins. I rubbed my watery eyes, trying desperately to bring my vision back into focus.

“What just happened?” Ember asked.

I blinked, looking toward the house. The ward was gone. “I think that was an alarm.”

“Indeed.” Chaos ascended the porch steps. “She knows we’re here, so we must move quickly.” He disappeared into the house.

“Let’s find Patrice and get out of here before she comes back.” Ember followed him inside.

I slung my satchel over my shoulder and swallowed the dryness from my mouth before whispering a prayer to the goddess that we’d find our healer alive. Opening my senses, I inched forward, searching, feeling, trying to predict what might lie ahead. A current of dark magic ran over the remnants of Patrice’s light, creating a choking sensation in my throat.

“It’s thick in here,” Miles said as he and Shade crept in behind me. “Fresh.”

The foyer opened into a dining and living area. A wooden table with six chairs occupied the space to our left, and a blue sofa with white accent chairs stood to the right. Beyond that lay a kitchen and a short hallway with three doors.

Chaos came out from one of the rooms. “She isn’t on this floor.”

Ember appeared from another. “She’s got a basement, right? I saw an entrance outside.”

“Is she here?” Chaos asked me.

“We won’t know unless we look.” Shade went into the third room and returned to the hall. “Doesn’t look like she has basement access from the inside.”

“Is she here?” Chaos asked again.

I inhaled deeply and centered myself before searching the atmosphere for Patrice’s energy. A tingle in my abdomen shot up to my head, pulling me into the kitchen.

“She’s in the basement.” A door stood closed between the fridge and the sink, and I opened it to find the pantry. Chaos stepped in behind me, and Ember wiggled past him.

“Is there a hatch in the floor?” She pulled a cord, turning on an overhead light, and stomped on the wood. “It sounds solid.”

“It’s here.” I tugged one of the shelves, and the whole unit swung toward me, revealing a set of stairs. I cast my revealing spell. No magic blocked our descent, so I motioned for Chaos and Ember to take the lead.

“If you knew where the basement door was, why didn’t you say so?” Shade came down behind me, with Miles on his heels.

“I didn’t know.”

Patrice’s basement looked exactly how I imagined a healer’s would. To the right lay the mundane: a washer-dryer, water heater, and furnace taking up most of the space. To the left stood a massive shelving unit filled with every kind of herb and oil imaginable. Mixing bowls, jars, and instruments lay atop a nine-foot, wooden table in front of the shelf, and more bundles of herbs and flowers hung from the ceiling, drying.

I walked past her workspace to the back of the room. From the entry, the walls appeared to meet, ending the basement, but as I got closer, I found an opening around the corner that led into an unfinished space with a dirt floor. Whether it was a random optical illusion or built this way on purpose, I couldn’t be sure, but it didn’t matter. I’d found Patrice.

“Oh, my goddess.” Ember rushed in and dropped to her knees before I could check for protection spells. Thankfully, nothing exploded when she touched our healer’s forehead.

Patrice lay on her back in the dirt, a mess of roots crisscrossing over her body, pinning her down. Thick shoots covered her legs, stomach, and chest, while smaller sprouts crawled across the rest of her, creating a web around her that almost looked like a cocoon.

Ember grabbed a root in one hand, a dagger in the other. “Help me get her out.”

“Wait.” I paced toward my sister and clutched her shoulder. “Look.” I gestured to webs pulsing softly against her skin. “If the roots are drawing out her energy, and we start hacking away at this setup, we could kill her.”

Miles hung back in the doorway. “Is she…” He cleared his throat. “Is she alive?”

“I hope so.” I kneeled next to Ember and studied our friend. She was a natural redhead and always pale, but her complexion had taken on a milky, ashy tone. Patrice lay utterly still, so I bent down, aligning my eyes with her chest. It rose and fell infinitesimally, nearly impossible to detect.

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