The Bitterwine Oath Page 19

  “Do you think we can stop the deaths this time?” I asked.

  “Lord willing and the creek don’t rise,” Kate said.

  “Has anyone ever died fighting them? I mean, besides Nora.”

  “No, she’s the only one, and she didn’t exactly die fighting,” Kate replied, her slender hands tightening on the steering wheel.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “She cracked under pressure on the night of the massacre. After the Woodwalkers possessed the victims, Nora went to the sacred glade and relinquished her defenses. She opened her spirit to them…handed herself right over. They drained her of magic, and it made them stronger. The Triad believes they failed to stop the deaths because of her, though there’s no way of knowing. There’s only been one attempted Claiming. Not a fair sample size.”

  “Why?” I asked, bewildered. “Why in the world would she do that?”

  The rearview mirror reflected her scowl. “Maybe she had misguided notions of stopping them some other way. Or maybe it was just too much for her. From what I’ve heard, she was a sensitive soul, like Emmy.”

  Some other way. How could sacrificing yourself to the enemy’s benefit ever be a viable alternative to fighting?

  “It was a dark time for everyone when it happened,” she added. “She was a powerful Earth Warden, probably the most powerful Warden of the whole bunch besides Malachi and your grandma. It’s a shame she’s not around to help us. Kerry, too.”

  Kate turned down a gravel road that seemed to stretch on forever through the trees. Minutes ticked by as we bumped along, but finally we reached a rusted gate that was chained and locked with a padlock. Kate had a key, because of course she did, and Brianna hopped out to open the gate. We started down a driveway that was half as long as the road leading here.

  At last, we came up on a secluded farmhouse with an overgrown garden. The paint was chipped, the boards weatherworn, the porch faded by sunlight, but it had otherwise stood the test of time. The place didn’t look familiar, but it seemed familiar, like something from a dream long forgotten. I felt strangely safe. Not just safe—protected. It was an active, warm feeling.

  “Are those Warden’s Runes hanging from the trees?” I asked, peering at distant configurations of twigs tied with twine.

  “They are,” Kate said.

  Instead of entering the house, the others started unloading boxes and cases from the trunk. Kate took me down a trail in the garden that led to what looked like a stone grave marker. There was no name, yet somehow I knew who rested here. “This is Malachi’s grave, isn’t it?” I whispered.

  Kate nodded.

  “I can feel her,” I said, taking a knee on the soft grass. This was the only area of the property that had been neatly maintained. There was a fresh bouquet of white Easter lilies next to the marker. “I know this sounds silly,” I said, noticing how the summer humidity seemed milder here, the wind soft and kind. “But I think she’s glad that I’m here.”

  “I have no doubt about that,” Kate said. She let me absorb the supernatural sense of comfort for a while before she said, “We brought you here for another reason. Come with me when you’re ready.”

  I said a silent goodbye to Malachi and hiked with Kate through tall grasses to the back of the house. The heat brought a coating of sweat to my skin even though thick clouds obscured the sun. I fanned myself with my shirt as we approached a range of metal targets shaped like wide, boxy torsos staked into the ground. A picnic table held antique-looking weapons, ammo, and accessories.

  Kate picked up two revolvers and held them out for me to take. “Your new best friends.”

  I inspected the old-fashioned firearms, unwilling to push anything sensitive even though I could feel that they weren’t loaded. The barrels were six or seven inches long, and intricate scrollwork engravings decorated the glossy wooden handles.

  “This is a flare gun,” Kate said, holding up a miniature orange firearm. “Use it only in an emergency. The previous Wardens used gunshot patterns as a distress signal, but that doesn’t work if you’re out of bullets.”

  Kate buckled a leather belt with ammo pockets and holsters snugly around my waist.

  “Why isn’t the magic enough to fight them off?” I asked.

  Kate didn’t look me in the eye. “However powerful you feel, Warden magic gets slightly less potent with every generation. It wears away over time. Our grandmothers are more powerful than we are, and it doesn’t have to do with age or experience. We’re getting watered down, Nat. We’re fading. Even Malachi wore out. We need the weapons more and more.”

  “So even if we manage to stop the Woodwalkers from hurting anyone—which our grandmas couldn’t even do—our daughters and granddaughters will have a harder time doing the same thing?”

  Kate bit her lip. “I know. It’s not good news. And we’ve seen no signs that the Woodwalkers are weakening. It doesn’t help that younger generations are waiting longer to have kids, having fewer kids. We could be extinct by the time the next massacre rolls around.”

  “Well, then we have to break the curse,” I said, and saw Lindsey shake her head. “End all of this for good.”

  “Easier said than done, Nat.” Kate sighed. “Even Malachi couldn’t break it.”

  “Yeah, I keep hearing that,” I snapped, shoving pale flyaways out of my face.

  “Look, I know this is frustrating,” she said, her tone mild. “I know you feel like you’re cramming for a huge exam. But trust me, charmed weapons work best for keeping the Woodwalkers at bay. Magic alone works great for things like calming teas and sortilege. But we can’t rely on it to engage with the evil here forever, not when it’s diminishing at such an alarming rate.”

  I wiped misty rain from my forehead and processed this. “Okay.”

  “All right,” Kate said, clapping her hands, sprightly again. “These are single-action revolvers from the late 1800s.”

  “Why do we use weapons that old?” I asked.

  “They’re not all this old. These two just happen to be the first weapons Malachi charmed to work on the Woodwalkers, after she came to live out here. She mixed her blood with oil and coated the guns, and they’ve worked ever since. She also forged the knives herself and cooled them in her blood.”

  “Wow…that must have taken a lot of blood.”

  “That’s why we don’t have a whole arsenal,” she said, motioning for me to hand her one of my guns. “This is important: only load five cartridges instead of six. You don’t want the hammer resting on a live round with these old beauties or it could fire off at the wrong time. Got that?”

  “Got it.”

  “You have two guns here not so you can shoot both at the same time, which looks cool in movies, but it doesn’t lend itself to accuracy. It’s because reloading is a hassle.” She pointed the gun away from us. “To shoot, you just cock the hammer and pull the trigger. Load the other gun, and then we’ll practice.”

  I did exactly as she demonstrated, growing accustomed to the weight and feel of my new weapons. After I had loaded one with relative ease five times in a row, Kate took aim and hit a distant target with impressive accuracy.

  “You try,” she said. “You’re going to want to go for the head or the heart. Hitting one or both of those leaves their borrowed body nothing but a bag of bones. The shadow form will flee to scavenge for a new host.”

  I took my stance, cocked the hammer, and pulled the trigger, trying not to flinch. My wrist snapped up smoothly as the gun fired. A loud ding answered.

  “I like what we’re working with,” Kate said. “Try again.”

  Vanessa, Brianna, and Lindsey watched while my technique steadily improved. When I hit the target nine out of ten times, the Wallace sisters started hurling their hatchets at human-like wooden targets already scarred with abuse. Lindsey threw a small knife at a burl on a tree over and over as casually as if she were playing darts in a garage.

  “So, we can’t kill them?” I asked Kate, taking a break to
wipe sweat and mist off my face and eject the shells and reload.

  “They’re not like us. They’re not alive, so they can’t be killed.”

  The sun emerged to beam down ruthlessly on my tanned skin. I closed my eyes and smelled wild grasses and pine trees. I could hear the faintest of winds whistling around the edges of the metal targets, my own pulse rampaging in my throat.

  I extracted a revolver, took a deep breath, and shot bullet after bullet. The cocking of the hammer and the dinging of the targets created something almost like music.

  A brief silence and a puff of haze followed.

  “Damn, girl,” Vanessa said breathlessly.

  Kate’s phone rang. She picked it up. “Hi, Grandma,” she said. Listening for a long moment, she nodded. “Yeah, we can at least start her on patrol.” She hung up and looked at us. “I’m going to help guard the cabin tonight. You four can patrol in pairs.”

  “Me?” I asked, my adrenaline skyrocketing.

  “Do you object to that, Little Miss Sure Shot?”

  I surveyed the damage I’d done to the targets.

  “No,” I said. “No objections.”

  TWENTY

  As night fell, I laced up my combat boots in the dimly lit church basement. Far from a flimsy pleather fashion statement, the pair I’d inherited were hardy and battle scarred.

  Camila, Lindsey’s mom, sauntered up to me. “Ooh, Natalie…I like the new you.” She slid her knives into their sheaths.

  My nerves frazzled a little at the sight of everyone else saddling on their weapons over their black clothes. “You’re going with Kate to the cabin?”

  Camila nodded. “I wish we could petition the city to put higher fences up. But the cops would still be hanging around since it’s massacre year, and we’d still have to protect them. And these tourists…People have no sense. If a place feels dark, stay away. Don’t go asking for trouble.”

  “Everybody, gather round,” Maggie called from the other side of the room. Lindsey and I joined the group of women forming a jagged circle.

  “The first Shadowing should serve as a wake-up call,” Maggie said. “The Woodwalkers’ powers are multiplying. They will be more persistent. We cannot back down. I know you’re tired. I know you’ve been rode hard and put away wet. But when I look around, I see the strongest, most fearless women I know, women who do what’s right even when it’s not easy. And that includes our newest Warden.”

  Everyone looked at me and smiled or nodded.

  “Now, be blessed and safe out there,” Maggie said. “By the powers of earth, bone, and blood…”

  “Proceed we Wardens to our noble work,” the room echoed, and we dispersed.

  Heather approached me with a jar of goo that I could only guess fell under the category of “unction” in the Book of Wisdom. “Angelica root powder, wood betony oil, ground nettle, and an infusion of Solomon’s seal,” she explained. “It’s for protection. Do you want me to apply it?”

  “Yes, thank you,” I said, and held out my bare arms. Heather was as thorough as a responsible mother smearing sunscreen on her child, making sure it covered every inch of skin exposed by my black tank top. By the set of her jaw, I could tell she was worried for me. That didn’t bring me much comfort. I was a kid about to splash into a cold pool that was too deep. “Be safe out there,” she said, screwing the lid back on the jar.

  “You too,” I said. My voice sounded small.

  “Be careful, girls,” Camila warned. “Keep in touch. Call for backup if you need it.”

  Kate patted me on the back as the majority of us exited the basement. I felt tenser than a guitar string wound too tight.

  Lindsey and I got in her car and drove at a crawling pace, moving east through town before turning north. Houses and woods slipped by. The occasional streetlight cast an eerie glow, toying with my imagination. Never had a locked car door felt so much like a barrier between safety and danger.

  “Don’t worry,” Lindsey said. “Patrolling is code for ‘creating diversions to keep the cops busy.’ I rode shotgun on patrol when I was fifteen, if that makes you feel better.”

  “A little. Why is it bad if police are checking on the cabin? It’ll scare away trespassers.”

  “They’re just more people we have to look out for.”

  I thought of Jason and almost laughed. He would never believe that I could offer him protection. I almost couldn’t believe it myself.

  “How long have you been training with knives?” I asked Lindsey as her gaze combed the darkness.

  “We get our first lessons around eleven or twelve. At that age, we’re old enough to understand how important keeping the secret is. When we take the Oath at fifteen, we’re ready to jump in on the action.”

  “What if I’m not ready?”

  “You’ll be fine. I’m here. Besides, you’re a natural with good instincts, and a Tri-Warden, or whatever you want to call it. We’re not even going to be doing anything tonight. Just looking out.”

  Despite her reassurances, I didn’t like what those instincts were telling me. As we crept down a street with a park on one side and houses on the other, I felt a sudden flutter of fear, but couldn’t pinpoint why. We passed a playground with a jungle gym and a metal merry-go-round. Beyond it was a swathe of green grass that bordered an army of looming pines. We were only two miles from the town square, but it felt like twenty.

  “Something’s off here.” Lindsey squinted at the trees, confirming my suspicion.

  My phone rang. I twisted to dig it out of my back pocket and saw Kate’s name.

  “Hello?”

  “The sheriff’s prowling and we need a diversion. Lindsey will know what to do.” The urgency in Kate’s voice made a pang of fear flutter through me.

  “Okay,” I said, but she had already hung up. “They need us to distract Jason.”

  “Already?” Lindsey gulped. “Must be a busy night.” She stretched to grab her duffel bag from the back seat and produced three empty glass bottles. “Break these on the playground. I’m going to go set off a car alarm. We need someone to call the police.”

  I took the bottles. “Why can’t we call them ourselves, anonymously? Can you beguile a phone number?”

  “We used to do that. After they showed up and found nothing wrong a few times, they started treating untraceable calls as illegitimate.”

  We got out. Lindsey jogged away with a promise to not leave me alone for long. I stared at the inky trees behind the park, which would have looked like a solid mass of shadows before I took the Oath. Now, I could make out individual branches reaching into the oppressive summer air.

  I hoped Jason didn’t show up and see through the beguilement. Explaining away the revolvers in holsters around my waist would be a challenge. He could arrest me for lacking a gun license.

  I stepped onto the layer of woodchips covering the playground and threw a bottle at the merry-go-round. The burst was louder than I expected. My throw had been so fierce that minuscule glass shards showered over me. That would get the neighborhood stirring.

  “What was that?” I heard someone gasp nearby.

  Without stopping to think, I dove behind a garbage can. A car alarm went off in the distance.

  “What’s going on?” Another frenetic voice asked. “Is it working?”

  I peeked out from my hiding spot. I could make out three shadows sitting on the highest platform of the jungle gym.

  “No,” a female voice said, not bothering to whisper. “That’s not the same energy I sensed.”

  “Then what was that breaking sound?”

  Energy. Of course, the three paranormal sleuths were in my hair again. I saw the definition of their distinct silhouettes at the top of the plastic slide: petite, gawky, and stocky. The whole gang was there. Maybe they were on their way to the cabin and stopped for a late-night séance or something. But where was their van?

  The girl, Quinn, looked around, but didn’t notice me in the dark. “I don’t know, maybe we summoned s
omething else, but it feels benevolent.”

  “Benevolent spirits don’t break things,” the bearded, lanky guy said. “I think we should go.”

  “You scared?” the other guy asked, but it didn’t sound like a taunt.

  “Scared that people will think we’re breaking into cars,” the other hissed.

  I wasn’t sure if the beguilement would work on them, or if I needed to cast a new one. In fact, now that I was in the field, I wasn’t sure of anything. Did the Wardens really think I was ready to be here, or were they so desperate for manpower that they’d sent me out entirely unprepared?

  I glanced over my shoulder, hoping to see Lindsey trotting up the road, but there was no sign of her. A lamp flicked on inside the nearest house, and eyes peeked out from the closed blinds.

  “Let’s get out of here,” the lanky guy urged again, hanging one long leg off the jungle gym, ready to make a break for it.

  “We can’t,” Quinn said, still sitting cross-legged on the platform. “I think the summoning worked. Something’s here.”

  “Like what?” he asked.

  The other pointed his device in a circle around him. I ducked back behind the trash can.

  “Oh my god.” Quinn massaged her temples, her voice taut. “There’s so much anger and…and hunger.”

  “Hunger for what?” the one with the device asked.

  A whisper of wind coiled through the air and the smell of rot invaded my senses.

  I could feel the new presence. Oppressive, bleak, as unwelcome as a tap on the shoulder in a house presumed empty.

  My flesh turned cold and my voice trembled, making it hard to whisper the incantation that would protect our secrets. “Powers of the still, dark earth, mislead all prying eyes. Cast thy veil of trickery; by Warden’s Rune, disguise.”

  My human instincts, which were momentarily more compelling than my magic, urged me to run away, to dive into the car and hide until the darkness had passed. But I didn’t listen to them. I came out of hiding and lunged for the jungle gym, leaping to the top of the slide. “You need to leave. Now.”