Garden of Dreams and Desires - Kristen Painter Page 0,63

poor, sad thing,” she whispered. “Might as well stay asleep because in a few hours, you’re going to be just as powerless.”

Of course, this was the perfect opportunity to put an end to him without all the fuss. She lifted her hands, the words of a suffocation spell forming on her lips. He shifted, startling her.

She dropped her hands and fled the room before the pounding of her heart woke him. She leaned against the closed door as her stomach soured with the knowledge that she wasn’t as brave as she’d like to believe. She stood as still as a statue while her nerves settled. Her disgust at her actions made her grimace. No matter, the chaos spell would change everything and that was all that mattered. Focus. Find the tree. Get out before you’re caught.

Where would the tree be? Zara would probably have found it already, being a green witch and all. Giselle’s pulse was back to normal and her bravado with it. She straightened. If the tree was in the house, wouldn’t it be hidden in some way? Otherwise, anyone who visited the house might find it. The house was steeped in fae history, so if there was magic hiding the tree, it must also be fae. With that thought, Giselle unclasped her crystal pendulum necklace, held it out before her and whispered, “Show me the greatest source of magic in this house.”

The tip of the crystal moved, pointing toward the door on the other side of the landing. She followed it, going into the room with no expectations of any kind this time. High transom windows on one side shed enough light to see boxes and bins lining the walls, all marked with odd phrases like autographed scripts and misc. good wigs. Beyond those containers were stacks of things wrapped in muslin, odd pieces of furniture, what looked like a taxidermy porcupine and an honest-to-goddess throne. “What on earth is this place?”

If there was a tree hidden in here, she was going to have to move a lot of rubbish to get to it. The crystal drew her in deeper and as she rounded a towering pile of ancient vinyl records, she saw just how big the room was. It had to run the length of the house.

The necklace suddenly swung out at a right angle, quivering as it pointed at the wall. “End spell.”

The pendulum dropped, lifeless. She gathered up the chain and crystal, then stuck it in her pocket so she could examine the space. There was nothing remotely treelike. She moved a coatrack complete with coats, an easel and three giant paintings. Flocked wallpaper covered the wall, so old and hideous it was probably from the days when the place had been a whorehouse.

Still no tree—or magic, despite what the pendulum had indicated.

Dust covered her hands in grime. She brushed them off. Her cleanliness spell would be working overtime trying to keep her ivory trousers and blouse from getting soiled in this grubby old space.

A thin breeze teased her ankles. She glanced around but none of the windows were open. They were all too high up anyway. The breeze drifted over her skin again. It was coming from down low. She studied the wall she’d just cleared. The wallpaper, besides being about as ugly as wallpaper could be, curled up from the bottom seam.

Giselle grabbed the edge and tore a long strip off. Dust flew everywhere. She held her breath and backed away, trying hard not to sneeze. As the dust settled, the outline of a door became visible. Excitement tripped over her skin. Forgetting the grime, she scoured her fingers along the edges, looking for a way to open it. Near the bottom, she found an indentation. She pressed it but the door was locked. She almost laughed. Locks were no match for a practiced witch. She muttered a spell to free it, then pressed the indentation again. This time it released with a sigh.

Almost trembling now, she pushed the door open and stepped through onto a balcony. The aura of magic danced over her skin instantly. Light filtered through a large skylight, illuminating the most amazing thing she’d ever seen. Black and twisted, gnarled in an unnatural way and reeking of soot and smoke, the lightning tree stood before her.

Beckoning her.

She walked to the edge of the narrow balcony, her gaze following the branches as they disappeared into the structure of the house. The tree had grown into the house, which meant