Page 72 of A Lullaby for Witches

Amidst all the fighting with herself, she and Leo had inched closer and closer to the edge of the clearing. It was a gradual slope to the beach, but it was rocky and covered in scrubby vegetation. The gravel beneath her feet shifted, and she teetered on the edge of the slippery rocks, feeling as if she might be lost to the wind at any moment. Was this it? Would she come back to her body just to find that she died from a broken neck?

“Margaret!” Jack lunged, fumbling, too, with his new body to catch her hand. A flash of lightning turned the world bright blue, illuminating his eyes, round with shock, as he overshot the distance between them, his feet going out from under him.

A cry escaped Augusta’s throat that might have come from either her or Margaret. Scrambling down after him, her foot caught on a rock, twisting at an unnatural angle. Sprawling, she landed on her shoulder, hard. The knife went flying, clattering onto the rocks, and disappearing into the darkness.

Margaret had taken everything from her—her body, her life and now Leo. The anger that she had felt at her impotence was nothing compared to the rage that coursed through her now. Trees danced and snapped in the wind, singing to her.Let no man steal your thyme, your thyme. Let no man steal your thyme. Red built behind her eyes, climbing and climbing, turning the world into a bloody facsimile of itself. And then, just as suddenly, it all went black.

Turning her head, a weed brushed her cheek, sending a ripple of sensation through her body. She blinked her eyes open.She blinked her eyes open. They were her eyes again. She closed them just to make sure, letting the rain slide down her lids before slowly opening them. Pine needles and rocks bit into her back, the chill night breeze lifting the hair from her temples. Beyond the weeds, she could just make out the profile of Leo’s body lying on the gravel below her, waves lapping hungrily mere inches from him.

Fighting against the throbbing pain in her own body, she scrambled up and tumbled the rest of the way down to him, crumpling onto the wet gravel beside him. “Leo. Leo!” His shirt was soaked, the rain and mud making it impossible to tell if he was bleeding. “Leo, please wake up.”

She fumbled in her pocket for her phone, but it wasn’t there. They were in a barren stretch of coast in the middle of the night; she would never be able to yell for help. She was tired, so tired. Maybe this was how it would end: her life force slowly seeping away into nothingness, Leo bleeding out below her just out of her reach. Then it hit her: Leo’s phone. She clumsily searched his pockets until she found it. By some miracle it wasn’t too wet, and with her last ounce of energy, she was able to hit the emergency button before collapsing again, the storm clouds spiraling above her into blackness.

40

Augusta

“Explain this to me again,” Lisa said, rubbing the bridge of her nose in a gesture so like Leo’s that Augusta’s heart clenched. “You and Leo were hiking in the middle of the night in a rainstorm and he somehow fell off a ledge?”

The fluorescent hospital lights burned Augusta’s eyes, the beeping of machines grating her ears. Her throat was hoarse and her ankle was throbbing, but after being given some fluids and having her ankle put in a brace, she’d been released.

She didn’t want to be sitting in the tiny hospital room, staring at the man who had come so close to death at her hands. She didn’t want to be answering Lisa’s questions or waiting for Leo’s parents to come and learn what had happened. All she wanted was to be far away, sitting on a windswept hill under the stars, with Leo healthy and awake beside her.

At Lisa’s question, she finally tore her gaze away from Leo. “I can explain it again, but you’ll either believe me or you won’t.”

There had been a brief inquiry into what had happened, and Augusta had had to give her statement to the police. She’d told them that they were taking a night walk on the rocks and had slipped, with Leo taking the brunt of the fall. Since there was no evidence of foul play, they’d quickly released her with a warning about trespassing after dark. But now Augusta had to answer to Lisa, who had driven down from Portland, Ellen and Terry following a few hours behind her. She almost wished she was talking to the police instead, because the fear, anger and exhaustion in Lisa’s eyes was unbearable.

“I just don’t understand what you guys were doing in the middle of the night in a nature preserve.”

Augusta fiddled with her cell phone. “I wanted to show Leo my favorite place. He took me to his—Castle Carver in Pale Harbor—and the ruins in the woods are mine.”

Drumming her fingers on the plastic armchair, Lisa pinned her with a stare. “But in the middle of the night? That isn’t like Leo, but I guess it’s the kind of erratic behavior of yours he was telling me about.”

Augusta winced. “Your mother will understand. She can explain everything when she gets here.” But even if Ellen understood, did Augusta really want Lisa knowing the truth? She hadn’t exactly gotten off on the right foot with Leo’s sister, and somehow she doubted that Lisa would appreciate hearing yet another version of events, let alone one containing magic, possession and witchcraft.

Lisa’s lips pressed into a tight line. “My mom. Right.”

As if on cue, Ellen burst through the hospital room door, Terry following shortly behind her, and then, oh, God, was that Augusta’s mother?

A flurry of hugs, reprimands and questions ensued, raised voices all talking over each other until a nurse stuck his head in to tell them that they had to be quiet or they’d be asked to leave. Everyone started whispering at once.

“Augusta Jean Podos,” her mother hissed. She was dressed in her scrubs and looked like she had just come from the pediatric wing. “What is going on? You’ve been gone for days and no sooner do I get a call from someone named Leo saying that you’re staying with him, then I get a call from Dr. Draper that you’re here and the police have been questioning you.” She paused, as if just noticing the unconscious man in the hospital bed for the first time. “And who is this guy? Is this the boyfriend you’ve supposedly been staying with?”

“That’s my son,” Ellen said defensively, straightening up from the bedside. She had gone right to work, tucking his blankets in tighter and examining charts. “How long has he been out? These hospital rooms are never conducive to recovery. How is a body supposed to rest with all this beeping and commotion? We should see about having him moved somewhere quieter.”

It was Lisa who finally raised her voice and brought everyone to attention. “He’s stable. He needed a lot of stitches and probably has a minor concussion, but they’ll have to keep him a few days to make sure there’s no internal bleeding that they might have missed. He should wake up anytime now.”

“Thank God,” Terry said, closing his eyes and sagging against the wall.

Ellen was still flipping through the charts, frowning. “What exactly happened? I still don’t understand what he was doing in the middle of nowhere in a storm.”

Augusta carefully shifted her gaze away. How was she supposed to tell Ellen that she had almost killed her son?

Lisa seemed to be thinking the same thing. “Dad, why don’t we go get some coffees or something from the cafeteria,” Lisa suggested. “Augusta,” she said, narrowing her eyes, “I think you have some explaining to do to my mother.”

The moment of reckoning had finally come. Augusta slid a little farther down in her seat. Ellen was the only one who even had a chance of believing her, and as for Pat, well, it was time Augusta told her mother the truth.

Lisa squeezed Leo’s hand, then stood and ushered her father out. Terry looked only too grateful to have a reason to escape the room which had suddenly filled with tension. When the door had closed behind them, Augusta forced herself to square her shoulders and deliver the truth to Ellen, conscious of what her mother would think. For what felt like the hundredth time, Augusta started at the beginning, from her hallucinations to her hunt for Margaret, to the terrible moment when she’d realized that Margaret had taken possession of her body, and finally, the ceremony in the woods. Occasionally her mother would purse her lips or make a little sound of disbelief. Ellen nodded knowingly when Augusta described the ritual to bring Jack back. When she finished, she sat, staring at her hands in her lap.

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