Page 87 of The Wolfing Hour
In truth, the runes didn’t need it, but we definitely did. We’d been whipping uphealcharms left and right. I was feeling the magical drain, and the guys had to be, too.
Cecil nodded.
Fennel twitched his tail, took hold of Cecil’s robe with his teeth, and padded out the front door, the gnome swinging from his mouth.
I worked for another few minutes, but it was useless. I was tired, and my concentration was shot. With the moon looming above my head, I walked outside and padded barefoot to Red’s grave—Red’s home. I’d gotten used to mourning at the ring of stones; calling it that was still my first instinct.
Late May was summer in Smokethorn, but no one had told the weather. A chill gripped my shoulders and twisted, the shivercracking my stiff back. Still, the cold was welcome. Our low desert heat would make even the early hours inhospitable soon enough.
“Hello, Red.”
I ran a fingertip over one of his healthy spines. The saguaro was growing at an astronomical rate—much faster than the others. How long would it be until he flowered? Or sprouted an arm?
“You must find a way to communicate with her, Betty. Because if you don’t have her cooperation, your magic won’t survive—dark or elemental.”
Ugh. Why had Sexton intruded into my thoughts now?
Because you, Lilibet Lennox, are afraid of what’s to come.
No idea where that thought had come from, but it wasn’t a lie. If anything, it was a softening of my emotions, a downplaying of the extent of my fear.
“Old friend, I’m tired of being scared,” I whispered to Red. “Scared of losing my earth magic, of losing the love I’ve found, of losing my family and friends, my mind, my life…”
I removed my clothes as I talked to the saguaro, to the soil, to the grass that parted and allowed me to sink beneath the earth. Cradled in my element where breathing was optional and peace was mandatory, I sent a supplication to the goddesses that this would pass soon, that we’d find Rory, that Floyd would meet his well-deserved end, I’d conquer my demon side, and everything would be all right.
And while I was underground, safely nestled among the roots, I almost believed it was possible.
I spenta little over an hour beneath the soil. Too short, but I wanted to be close to the phone in case Ronan called with news about Rory.
Around nine thirty, I was at my kitchen table staring out the window at the stars and sipping a mug of tea when my cell rang.
“Dead end.” Ronan’s voice was so saturated with worry I felt it in my own chest. “We’re going to keep searching. One of the rats heard a rumor she was out by East Pluto—he says it’s probably nothing—but I’m going to check it out anyway. Just wanted you to know I won’t be home tonight.”
“Be careful.”
“I will.”
We ended the call. What Ronan needed most right now was rest, but I didn’t tell him to get some. It would’ve been a waste of time. He wasn’t going to stop until his little sister was safe—he couldn’t. If I wanted him to rest, I needed to find Rory. That way, he could focus on taking down Floyd for good.
I slumped in a chair at my kitchen table, stared at my phone, and considered my next move—no, that was a lie. I’d already decided what to do, I was just working up the resolve to dial Sexton’s number.
Since he’d told me that if I didn’t find a way to communicate with Demon Betty, I risked losing my earth magic, I’d been understandably less than enthusiastic about hearing from him. I didn’t need any more bad news. Still, desperate times and all that.
Brrring-brrring-brrring.
Yeesh. Why did his ringer sound so old-fashioned and creepy?
Brrring-brrring-brrring.
Creepy and loud. And was it getting closer?
On the sixthbrrring-brrring-brrring, the line abruptly went dead.
My first reaction was, strangely enough, concern. Had something happened to him? If so, how did I feel about that? Was I genuinely worried that he might be in trouble?
Nope. Not tonight, Betty. That’s a can of worms worth keeping sealed.
Then came the raps on my door.Thrump.Thrump.Thrump. It sounded like someone hurling a bag of bone-carved dominoes against the wood.
