Page 91 of The Women of Wild Hill
In an instant, the clouds went away and the sun came out as Vernon Cage’s entire expression changed. “Oh, of course!” he said. “You’re Sibyl Duncan-Fox. Such an absolute thrill to meet you. New York City went into mourning when we heard your restaurant would be closed for the summer.”
As he took Sibyl’s free hand, time flashed forward for Brigid. She saw him, eyes bugged, tongue out, face purple, and hands clutching his throat as he staggered forward and collapsed face-first on a flower bed.
“And what do we have here?” she heard him say.
“Wild mushroom bruschetta,” Sibyl told him. “I picked the mushrooms myself on our family estate just down the road.”
Brigid lurched back into the present, grabbing her niece as she stumbled forward and knocked the platter to the ground.
“Oh goodness.” Vernon stared mournfully at the little toasts that littered the ground. “I was so looking forward to that.”
Liam signaled to a waiter, who rushed over, setting a tray of drinks down on a nearby table and dropping to one knee to clean up the mess.
“No worries,” Sibyl told him. “There are lots of other trays circulating. Let me see if I can grab someone.”
“What?” Brigid asked weakly. How many people had Sibyl poisoned already? How long would it take to connect her niece to the murders? What horrible things would Phoebe do to Brigid for letting Sibyl out of her sight?
“Well, at least we won’t be short on drinks while we wait.” Vernon plucked a glass off the tray the waiter had set down and drained half in one gulp. Then he looked down at the glass and studied its contents. “This is unusual. I’ve never had anything like it. What is it?”
“You’ve never had a gin fizz?” Liam said.
“Of course not. They have egg whites,” Vernon responded.
“Oh my god. You’re not the guest who’s allergic, are you?” Sibyl asked.
Vernon’s mouth opened, but he couldn’t answer. His hands clutched his throat as his tongue visibly swelled.
“Oh shit!” Sibyl gasped.
“Help!” Brigid screamed. “Does anyone here have an EpiPen?” She already knew the answer. The Old One never changed her mind. Vernon Cage’s fate was sealed. She rushed behind him as he stumbled forward and collapsed onto a hydrangea. “Is there a doctor here? He can’t breathe!”
The country’s top cardiac surgeon attempted an emergency tracheotomy with a metal straw, but by the time he was finished, Vernon was already dead.
Brigid looked up to see a man taking a picture of the scene.
Below the Surface
Agood witch knows that there’s far more to a forest than its trees. Beneath the surface lies another world—a world most people don’t know about and few ever see. Down there, in the dark, the wood giants talk to each other. Fungal webs the size of whales send tiny mushrooms to scout the surface. Their carcasses dissolved, animals reassemble into moss and flowers. The world underneath is ignored by most. A good witch ignores nothing.
A smart witch looks where no one else dares. She visits places the others shun, and sees all the things they don’t care to see. She studies the countless connections between the worlds above and below. She follows all roots to find out where they go. She turns over rocks and sees what wriggles out.
Her fearlessness will be rewarded with knowledge, and that knowledge with skill. But a wise woman also knows that the courage to look beneath the surface is often the difference between a live witch and a dead one.
The Call to Arms
Phoebe was waiting for them on the front porch that evening when they got back to Wild Hill. “I thought we agreed that it was just a reconnaissance mission. I thought no one was going to die.”
“How the hell did you find out so fast?” Sibyl asked. “Did you have a vision?”
“It was all over the news! And neither of you was answering your phones!”
“I swear I didn’t kill Vernon Cage,” Brigid said. “I didn’t kill anyone.”
“Me, either!” Sibyl added.
Brigid had no intention of contradicting her niece, but suddenly she had a question that couldn’t wait. “Oh shit. How many people ate that mushroom bruschetta?”
“You fed people the mushrooms!” Phoebe teetered on the verge of collapse.
