Page 58 of Wicked Witch of the Wolf

“Starting to feel a little claustrophobic around here,” Ida said. “Like they’re coming at us from all sides.”

She’d perched on my chaise by the lavender plants.

“Yeah. From the outside, this looks like three separate disappearances, but we already know Margaux’s is related to Bronwyn’s because that’s how she planned it. I can’t help but think Ronan’s disappearance is, too. In fact, I think it’s the catalyst.”

“Do we still believe everyone is alive?” she asked in a careful tone.

“I’m going to operate like they are until I know different.”

The thought of Ronan being dead made my head and body ache. It made me feel disconnected from my very soul.

Cecil chittered and jabbed a tiny, chubby finger at the book. Fennel sniffed the page he was referring to and instantly backed away, his mouth open in that peculiar way cats have when they pick up an intriguing scent.

I peered over Cecil’s tiny shoulder. The book was written in a mix of languages, but someone had translated this particular spell into English on a piece of notepaper and tucked it between the pages as a bookmark.

“Death-sleep spell. Whatever that is.” I looked from the note to Ida, who frowned and indicated for me to continue reading. “The translation includes instructions for the chant, but not the magic. Or what the spell does.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t include instructions for the magic?”

“It’s an elemental spell. A learned witch couldn’t cast it because there are no instructions about how to power the spell from the light or dark side of the magical spectrum.” When she looked confused, I said, “Learned witches power spells with the magic that exists allaround us. That’s why you’ll generally find them on, or near, a ley line. But elementals can be nearly anywhere as long as we’re near our element.”

“Huh. I thought witches could cast anywhere.”

“We can. But for spells this strong, we need to continuously draw power. And that requires a source.”

“Does that mean it’s not dark magic, after all?”

“Oh no. It’s definitely dark. Any spell that uses blood is dark. Dark doesn’t always equate to evil, but when it uses nonconsensual blood it most certainly does.”

Ida made anickface at the book.

I ran my finger over the words of the chant. “This seems specially crafted for my kind of elemental—and possibly Fennel’s kind, since he pulls power from sources that are a mystery even to me. Cecil might be able to pull it off if he taps into Faery.”

He shook his head, dislodging his purple hat.

“Or not,” I said.

“Desmond Mace is your kind of elemental,” Ida pointed out.

“Yeah.”Don’t remind me.“I’ll have to ask Maya if this is his handwriting, but I’d be willing to bet it is.” I stuck the paper back into the book with a trembling hand. I really didn’t like the looks of that spell. “I was wondering how he’d been able to grab Bronwyn—she’s twice the witch he is. And Margaux? She’s got moves he doesn’t have words for.”

“Do you think he has Ronan, too?”

“If you’d asked me that before Margaux said Floyd wanted him dead, I’d have said no. But, now? It’s a possibility.”

What I thought, what I was terrified of, was that Desmond had done what Margaux had refused to do. That I was too late already.

No. I couldn’t think like that. If I thought he was really gone, I wouldn’t be able to handle what I needed to do next.

“Pack up everything we’ve got,” I said to the boys. “Cecil, make sure your stuff is stabilized. I don’t want to blow up the car on the way there. I’ll be right back.”

Ida trailed me to Red’s grave. “What are you doing?”

I stared down at the smooth stones surrounding his resting place.

“When you’re at full strength, you have to expel and destroy the hex bags then anchor the roots of the largest saguaro to your own lifeforce. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but you have to do it to connect with the soil.”

“Margaux said I needed to anchor Red’s roots to myself. Apparently, Mom told her that’s what I had to do to fully connect with the soil.”

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