Page 101 of The Women of Wild Hill
“You asked what your role would be,” Ivy said. “This is it.”
Rose pointed at Brigid’s body. “You are a healer, aren’t you? Then heal her.”
Phoebe curled up beside Brigid. She placed one hand on her sister’s cold chest, over the heart that a surgeon had declared lifeless. She felt its stillness, sensed its arteries hardening and blood congealing as though it were turning to stone.
“She’s been dead for too long. I can’t do anything.”
“For fuck’s sake, you haven’t even tried!” Sadie chided her.
“What did I tell you when you were girls?” Flora stepped forward and smoothed Phoebe’s hair. “Did you forget?”
She’d said so many things, but somehow Phoebe knew exactlywhat she was talking about. “That our gifts are meant to complement one another. And together we would be unstoppable.”
“There you go,” Lilith said.
“Get to work, darling,” Ivy told her.
Phoebe returned her hand to Brigid’s chest. Then she took one of Brigid’s hands and placed it over her own heart. She didn’t know where to start, so she returned to the very beginning, conjuring from the depths of her memory the sight of Brigid’s face going cross-eyed as she leaned in to kiss Phoebe right on the nose. They were only toddlers, but Phoebe knew there was something special about this girl who liked to cuddle up next to her for warmth—and would instantly cool her down when she got overheated. Phoebe giggled just as she had back then—amazed and amused and completely thrilled that this person belonged to her.
Then she saw them both as little girls with wicker baskets in hand as they gathered treasures from Ivy’s garden. Beautiful beetles with iridescent green wings clung to Brigid’s black sundress, and ghostly white cabbage moths fluttered around her head. A ladybug landed on Brigid’s nose and she passed it to Phoebe. “Make a wish,” she told her sister.
They were lying on the rocks off the Wild Hill beach, long, lanky girls of fourteen and fifteen. It was the first warm day of summer, and they’d swum across with all their clothes on. Brigid reached into her pocket and pulled out an apple and took a bite. Phoebe was silently wishing she had one, too, when Brigid passed hers over. She’d briefly wondered if her sister had read her mind. Then she decided she didn’t care. Brigid was welcome inside her head.
One by one, Phoebe sorted through the memories she’d always kept stored in her heart. She could feel the energy circulating through her system, exiting her own body through the fingers pressed against her sister’s skin and returning again through Brigid’spalm. With every cycle, she lost a little of her own warmth. And that was okay. She was happy to give it.
SIBYL TALKED TO THE OLDOne as she kept an eye on the Geddes house. She knew the Old One didn’t need prayers—Lilith had taught her that. But she hoped if she kept up a conversation, the Old One might not abandon her mother and aunt. She was regaling the goddess with stories of all the good Phoebe had done back in Texas, when she saw the first man at the party go down.
He was standing right by the windows when he dropped to the floor, knocking over a side table and splattering the glass with the Scotch in his hand. Sibyl suspected there was a platter of hors d’oeuvres nearby. The party didn’t pause, aside from two men nearby who turned to laugh at his clumsiness. Sure enough, one of them had a half-empty platter of her mushroom bruschetta in his hand. He was still sneering at the first man when the friend beside him collapsed. Within seconds, he, too, was dead.
“Oh shit,” Sibyl said. “Find the fucking keys!” she called to Liam.
It went quickly from there. Billionaires, captains of industry, politicians, and tech gurus dropping like flies. But not all of them. A dozen men remained on their feet. Stepping over the bodies of their friends, rivals, and fellow oligarchs, they gathered in the middle of the room like prey seeking safety in numbers. Huddled together, they were clearly sharing notes, and one of them seemed to have an idea who was responsible for the body count. The man who’d taken a leak off the deck was pointing in their direction.
“They’re coming!” Sibyl shouted to Liam. “Get this piece of shit moving!”
“Well, look at that!” Lily was there beside her. “Excellent work! You got almost all of them. Just a few more to go!”
“What do I do?” Sibyl cried when the boat still wasn’t moving.
“Nothing for the moment.” Lily was calm and cool as always. “It’s best if they’re all outside.”
“For what?” Sibyl demanded.
“There we go.” Lily gestured at the men streaming out of the house. “Let’s get started.”
The boat’s engine turned over and Sibyl thought she might faint with relief. Once they were away from the dock, she rushed around to the back of the boat to keep watch. There, she found her mother and Brigid lying curled up, side by side, Phoebe’s hand on Brigid’s heart—and Brigid’s held to Phoebe’s. She couldn’t tell if they were breathing and there was no time to check. Several men on the beach had pulled out their phones.
“I need to do something,” Sibyl said. “They’ll send people after us. What should I do?”
“What was prophesied,” Lily replied.
“I don’t understand! No one gave me my mission!” Why was she being so stubborn? “Just tell me!”
“What is The Third meant to do?” Lily asked.
Sibyl racked her brains. All she could find was the only line she’d ever heard. “The Third is meant to turn the tide.”
Lilith smiled. “So do it.”
