Page 28 of Shifting Winds
That bitch. “She’s calling all the banshees home?”
“I’m not sure. My friend in the graveyard doesn’t hear the call, but I do.”
That bitch. I seethed inside, anger like acid in my chest. “I’ll talk to my mother.”
“Evie—”
“No,” I snapped at Moira. “I can handle her. Things are different from before. My mother knows I’m not someone she can slap down anymore.”
Returning my attention to Tess, I spoke once more. “Keep resisting. How are the wards in your apartment?”
“Strong,” she assured me. Tess had an ingrained talent with ward making, maybe even better than mine. “But I can’t go out much anymore. If she senses me wandering, she strengthens her call.”
Fury made my fingers tremble. “I’ll talk to her tonight.”
Tess’s eyes widened. “I don’t want you to get into trouble.”
Her innocence made me smile. Tess’s idea of trouble was vastly different than my mother’s. If Cliona could get away with it, she’d probably kill me, even if I was her only child.
“Don’t worry about me. Many things have changed over the years. My mother and I are on equal footing now.” Or, at least, the footing was sloped in my favor these days.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Of course.” I checked my phone for the time. “Let’s lock up and get out of here. We haven’t had a customer in two hours.”
The earlier I got out of here, the sooner I could confront my mother.
Hurting Tess wasn’t on her radar unless it hurt me. But it was a message.
Cliona wanted to talk.
Never a good sign.
Much to Hazel’s consternation, I’d never been great at spell work. At its heart, Floromancy was an intuitive magic, driven by the mage’s heart and intent. But I wasn’t just a Floromancer anymore, was I?
Before leaving the shop, Tess gave me a lock of her hair at my request. I carefully snipped off a bead at the very bottom of the gown my father had given me and dug deep into my closet to retrieve a box of childhood memories.
Once I had a dried petal from the only flower my mother had ever given me and the other materials I needed, I went into the greenhouse, where my power felt strongest, and set everything up.
My magic settled inside me, the pain from the seed lesser now for some reason. I set up four green taper candles at each cardinal point in the circle I’d drawn. A small silver bowl filled with purified water and graveyard dirt sat in the middle. I lit each candle, starting from the north and going in a clockwise direction. Once each taper burned, I touched the charcoal brick of incense with the lighter, holding it to the flame until it sparked and caught.
Once the brick began to smoke, I sprinkled a little incense on top and waited for the smell of rose and lavender to waft through the greenhouse. My plants grew curious. A few vines stretched from their pots and curled over my shoulder. Everytime I performed magic now, the greenery became a little more sentient than it should. I wasn’t concerned. Yet.
I sensed no danger, only a solid sense of comfort and curiosity, so I continued on.
Tess’s hair went into the bowl first, followed by the bead. The petal was the last to go.
“Cliona,” I whispered. “I heard your summons. I wish to speak with you.”
No one had seen my mother since she left Caelan’s Keep after I transformed into my Chimera form. She was, wisely, keeping a low profile. I didn’t mind one bit, but her screwing with Tess was unacceptable.
The greenhouse shivered, a silvery, opaque portal opening a few feet away.
“You bitch,” I whispered. Cliona was well protected in her own domain. I’d never been to the mounds and had no idea what to expect. My mother knew it and wanted to throw me off my game.
I watched the portal for a few moments deciding whether or not to go through.
“Fuck it,” I snarled, snatching one of the plants from the table—a thorned ivy, one of my newer creations I hadn’t tested out yet. I’d look like a crazy person stepping into the fae lands wielding a potted plant, but better safe than sorry.
