swords, which correspond with the air element:
Fear not the evasive Queen of Air
Though her manner is coarse, her outcome is fair
By thought or by deed, by word or by blade
Her sacrifice can’t be unmade
And then the Pentacles—the earth element:
By the Queen of Earth, you may be vexed
But trust you must her diligence
Sisterhood too, you’ll find within
But only when it’s welcomed in
“So who are the Queens supposed to be?” Carly asks.
“I’m not sure yet,” I say, “but something tells me whoever they are, they’re on our side.”
Carly sighs. “Great. More new friends. Can’t wait.”
“Would you rather more new enemies?” Isla gives her a shove, but it’s playful and good-natured, and Carly shoves her right back. Nat chucks a tortilla chip at Carly, and with that, the cards disappear.
“Wait, that’s it?” Carly asks. “She goes through all the effort of reaching out from the great beyond, and that’s all we get? Why didn’t she just leave a note or something?”
“It doesn’t work that way,” I say, and the room falls into silence once again.
“Okay, team. We’re not going to crack this mystery tonight,” Professor Maddox finally says. “We need more information from Casey, first and foremost. She’s the missing link.”
“Yes, but can we even trust her?” Doc asks.
“I don’t appreciate her sneaking out on us tonight, but my gut says her intentions are pure and her instincts are good. For now, I’m willing to extend my trust a little longer, but not by much.”
“One day,” Doc says firmly. “If she doesn’t check in by tomorrow night, she’s on the enemy list, and I’m breaking her cloaking spell and replacing it with one that keeps her out too.”
“Fair enough, Cass.” Professor Maddox yawns, then slowly rises from the chair, her knees creaking. “Okay, guys. I’m going to check on Kate and Ani, then I’m turning in. I’ll see you all… well, perhaps morning is a bit too optimistic. Let’s plan on brunch.”
With a soft pat on my shoulder and a quick nod to Doc, Professor Maddox heads out.
“What should we do in the meantime?” Carly asks, looking to Doc as if our illustrious mental magicks professor has all the answers my mother’s cards couldn’t deliver.
“Find a bedroom,” he says. “Goddess knows the house is big enough for an army.”
“And then what?”
“I don’t know what tomorrow holds, but I do know this—things are likely to get a lot worse before they get better. So if I were you, Miss Kirkpatrick, I’d probably get some rest.”
He glances my way for no more than a heartbeat, then turns his back, dropping the last mug in the dishwasher and heading upstairs without another word.
Seven
STEVIE
There’s no rest tonight.
An hour after our meeting, the house has fallen silent, but sleep eludes us all. I can feel it; the uncomfortable heaviness of our collective energy permeates the very walls.
Janelle’s is the strongest, furious and frightened even in her unconscious state, her anger simmering up through the floorboards. Her screams stopped hours ago, but whatever caused them still torments her. Does she sense the presence of her daughter, I wonder? Does she even care that Carly’s here?
For all the jokes and snarky comments, Carly herself is broken and confused, her energy a tangle of sharp edges and the deep longing of a child who was never truly loved. From the adjacent bedroom, her soft sobs echo through the wall, despite her best efforts at muffling them. I picture her curled up on the bed, hugging a pillow to her chest, wondering how her own mother could be so cruel and heartless.
Isla and Nat are sharing one of the larger rooms at the other end of the hall, soft candles still burning as they whisper into the night. I feel their relief and gratitude at being here with us, but they’re worried too, unsure how to help prepare for whatever fight we’ve got coming.
Though Professor Maddox said her goodnights, she decided to keep Professor Broome company instead, sitting with her as they watch over Ani like fierce magickal mama bears.
Ani’s energy is faint, but still present, a tiny spot of warmth emanating from the back corner of the house. It gives me hope, and I guard it fiercely, refusing to let it fade.
And lastly, I reach out for the energy of my stern, commanding Dr. Devane, pacing alone in his bedroom, stewing in a cocktail of self-loathing, fear, and blame. I wish I could tell him to let it all go, but that would make me a hypocrite; his agony is a