Page 84 of Strike It Witch

“The soilrespondedto him, Sexton. I’m staring at a patch of healthy green grass in front of the cottage. I haven’t seen anything like this since my mom died.”

“That might not mean what you think it means.”

I scooped up a handful of dirt and stared into my hand. “I don’t know. I think the soil chose him.”

Sexton made a bubbling sound. It reminded me of the noise a kettle made just before whistling.

“Are youlaughing?” I pulled the phone away and gaped at it before returning it to my ear.

“Yes. I cannot help it. You are a strong, smart witch, and yet you say the most asinine things.”

“Gee. Thanks.”

“This mage is not the right person to run the Siete Saguaros, but it sounds to me as if he did do one thing right.”

“What’s that?”

“He listened to the earth.”

Rage erupted in me, and I jumped to my feet, spilling the cat treats and cookies. “For the last three years, I’ve asked this soil to talk to me, Sexton. Pleaded. Sobbed on my knees and begged it to regrow the saguaros. Regrow the flowers, grass, weeds. Grow anything.”

“And yet, both the mage and I were able to do what you could not. And with far less effort.” He spoke the next words in short, sharp syllables in a voice that dripped with contempt. “Stop whining and stop begging. Startlistening. You are an earth witch, Lilibet Lennox. Cease your cowardice and trust your power.”

Chapter

Twenty-One

It was with that vote of confidence that I entered the garden room.

Cecil took the cookies, not seeming to mind that they were a bit worse for wear due to being dropped. Fennel readily accepted his treats, shoving his whole head into the bag as he chowed down.

I tooled around the garden, ensuring that my herbs and other plants were doing well. My fingers sank into the soft soil beneath a struggling dill plant, and it instantly responded, straightening to its full height and releasing its scent into the air.

After I’d checked on all the plants, I gently picked up the baby belladonna. I cradled it to my chest and sat with it on the chaise, chanting a power song into its tiny leaves.

When I traveled, I was only able to grow a few herbs, usually the ones I couldn’t find in other witch shops or ones I needed fresh instead of dried. Although I’d been raised to be a travel witch, I’d often wondered why earth witches would choose to live a nomadic life. We had to connect with soil to keep our magic powered. Moving from place to place made that so much more difficult. And there was nothing in this world so pleasingto an earth witch as sitting in a garden that belonged to her, one where she’d had a hand in growing every plant.

Of all the things I’d miss if Joon took over the park, I would miss soft, herb-scented moments like this the most.

A tear trickled down my cheek and dripped onto the belladonna. I would have to talk to Joon about this baby. There was no way I could bring it with me. It was far too fragile to leave the garden room.

Of course, that was only one of the things I’d need to discuss with him.

I glanced at Cecil perched on his workstation, chomping away at the cookies. Would the mage be open to allowing the gnome to stay? Or would Cecil choose to go with me? What about Fennel?

My heart ached at the thought of walking away from them.

Ida.

No. I couldn’t go there.

I rose, returned the belladonna to its spot, and went to my workstation to mix rock salt and rosemary for the demon-containment circle tonight. I’d asked the residents to stay inside their homes from eleven p.m. until dawn, which was more than enough time to do what I needed to do, even if things went sideways. In fact, it was overkill.

But then, overkill had always been my style.

Despite my certainty that the tenants were perfectly safe, given the newly refreshed protection spell, I’d had Fennel place a demonic-energy-repulsion hex bag beneath the porch of each trailer. Once activated, the bags were only good for twenty-four hours—demonic energy was notoriously difficult to repulse in the best of circumstances—but that would be enough time.

Again, overkill.

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