Images flashed behind my eyes, the icy Upper World and the astounding thunderbird. Big Coyote in the desert. The cheerfully warring spirit animals and the tortoise that had returned with me to lend Gary his strength. I hung on to those memories, taking them for the lifeline they were. I’d screwed up monumentally, but not everything I’d done had been tainted by the dark sorcerer who now settled into Colin’s body. There seemed to be things out there that still had faith in me.
Clinging to the scraps of hope that I hadn’t fucked up beyond redemption, I wove my own power together into a silver-blue net and swung it toward Garth, not so much to capture him as gain his attention. He wrenched around toward me, rage and fear in his eyes. “Get in place, Garth,” I said as gently as I could. “We’re going to fix this. But we’ve got to work together.”
“But Colin!” His voice broke, youthful terror, and my heart clenched at the sound.
“I know.” My stomach hurt around the power centered there, sorrow and pain that touched the net I’d woven and rode out to tell Garth that I understood and shared some of his agony. “But the coven needs you if there’s any chance of making this right.” There was a peculiar ring to my words, like they’d been processed through bells made of pure silver. They sounded as if they carried inexorable truth, and for a dismayed moment I hoped I wasn’t going to get stuck having to tell the truth all the time. I’d never be able to speak to Morrison again.
But Garth seemed to hear the truth in my words as well. He reluctantly broke away from trying to reach Colin, his steps coming easier as soon as he moved backward instead of toward the blond boy. I could feel power growing as the coven members each offered up what they had, and slowly their voices began to lift over the sound of the serpent’s bellowing.
“Joanie.” A hand touched my elbow, startling me. I turned to look down at Mel, who glowed so brightly I had to squint to see her clearly. “You’ve only got twelve.”
“I’m trying not to think about that.” I was pretty sure that we needed a full coven in order to vanquish the serpent and Virissong, but taking my place in the circle and harboring doubts would only sabotage the whole attempt.
“Joanie,” Mel said, more urgently. “Your maiden’s dead and I don’t think any of those girls is old enough to be the Mama. You’re playing with a shit hand and you need a full house.”
“One of them must still be a maiden,” I said doubtfully, and turned to glance over the girls, wondering if my Sight could verify that. Mel put her hand on my arm again before I’d figured out how to figure it out.
“Is it a boy or a girl?”
“What?” I stared down at her again, watching her colors flex with agitation.
“The baby.” Mel’s voice showed none of the twists and flaps of frustration that her aura danced with. “Is it a boy or a girl? Can you tell?”
“Oh. It’s a girl,” I said as if announcing such a thing was an everyday activity for me. Mel took a deep breath.
“Then I can be both.”
My double vision was doing nothing to help me understand her. I shook my head, feeling especially slow and dull. “Both what?”
“Mother and Maiden,” Mel said a bit impatiently. “I told you, Joanne. My grandmother was a witch. This isn’t entirely new to me.”
“Mel, you don’t have to—we’ve—I’m—” I had never once in my life said out loud that I’d had children. Plenty of people back in North Carolina knew, but no one in my life since the day I left Qualla Boundary had any idea.
Except maybe Morrison, depending on just how much digging he’d done. The idea made a knot in my stomach.
“You need thirteen,” she said, long before I could find a way to break through more than a decade of self-imposed silence and admit I’d been playing the role of the Mother. “The baby and I make twelve. You’re the thirteenth. The focal point. You’re the one with the power, Joanie.”
“You’re the one who’s pregnant! Mel, this could be really dangerous—”
“You won’t let anything happen to us.” She smiled, full of serene confidence, and that was it. I’d lost the argument. I could tell, because she walked over to take a place in the circle and folded her hand into Marcia’s. As soon as she did. Thomas left Marcia’s side and darted around the serpent to clasp hands with two other coven members.
I was the only one left outside the circle. The coven had gathered into four groups of three, one at each cardinal point of the compass. Power swept off them like a river in flood, their concentrated, trained efforts blowing away the magic that the cops had helped me call up back in January. There was more than just good will and hope behind their power. I could feel their spellcrafting, words chanted above the muggy wind and the serpent’s howls, and knew if I could harness all that power I could set straight the things I’d messed up, and send Virissong back to the Lower World he’d been so long accustomed to.
But I couldn’t do it from outside the circle. I stared up at the serpent, screwed my courage to the sticking point and walked into the center of the pentagram.
Unexpected silence assailed my ears, so loud I stumbled and put a hand on the gigantic serpent to steady myself. I was much, much too small for it to notice, yet it hissed and twisted at me, spitting venom. I didn’t have time or enough presence of mind to duck, but the acid spattered against a silver-blue sheen instead of burning my skin to the bone. I blinked at my arm in astonishment, then blinked again, looking more carefully with the Sight I’d called up. Filament-thin power sparkled over my skin, like a shield made of sparkling lame. I wondered where it’d come from, and thought Coyote would be proud of me if I’d had the foggiest idea how I’d done it.
The coven’s spell was reaching a crescendo. I could feel it in the bones of my ears, even if I couldn’t exactly hear it, and despite the hissing serpent above me I spread my arms wide, listening with all my being.
And then I knew what to do, like instructions were being poured into me. I couldn’t borrow the coven’s power the way I’d done with the cops in January. Theirs was much too focused, the spell they were casting meant to do a specific thing: translocate the serpent somewhere less dangerous than the Hollidays’ front yard. They could create the spell, but I needed to provide the power boost that would force a creature this massive into motion.
I dug down into the core of me, reaching for the bubble of power that spent so much time lying dormant thanks to my refusal to use it, and which had not unreasonably stopped answering when I called. It wasn’t exactly sentient, but I found myself asking it to respond, instead of bludgeoning my way into using it like the proverbial bull in the china shop.
It responded with joy, as if I’d finally, finally taken the right approach. I lifted my hands up, feeling the need to actually push the serpent away, and discovered I could see through my skin. Networked vessels carried blood that glowed with life, bone caressed by the warmth of muscle and sinew against it. I could see the serpent through my own hands, and felt a surge of confidence. Last time I’d gone transparent on myself things had turned out all right. I wondered if my eyes were the wrong color. Morrison’d watched me last time I’d done this and said they’d turned gold.
It didn’t matter. All that mattered was focusing the coven’s spell and protecting the Hollidays and their home.
I laid my hands on the serpent and everything went horribly, critically wrong.