Chapter 16: Recovering The Cache

I left my children in my parent's capable hands, with a good scratching for Galleytrot and a quick hug.

Thank you. I sent it directly to him, worried he might not hear me.

No, his big mind reached mine even through the wards. Thank you, Syd. For the first time in my life, I have a home. And I didn't want to give it up.

More tears, damn it. I wiped at them and took my husband's hand. "Let's go home ourselves," I said.

The veil welcomed me, and I it, the shivery membrane hugging me tight as Quaid and I traveled the short distance to our house in Wilding Springs. I stepped out into the basement and immediately shuddered.

Empty. All of it quiet and dark and lifeless. The family magic was gone.

It took me a moment to remind myself all that power was safe with the coven, back in the cavern. That this house that had been our home was just a shell, now. A place of wood and concrete, filled with stuff but without life. Is this what normal's houses felt like? Of course it was. I'd been in enough I knew that was true. Still, I shivered. How could they stand it?

Because they didn't know any different.

Quaid's power reached for mine and from the way his face visibly eased from tension I knew he was embracing his magic's return as much as I was. Shaylee was quiet, and I hardly blamed her, the other two egos comforting her as I wrapped us in shields and headed for the north corner.

And froze at the mess before me. The Brotherhood-or someone-had been here, torn apart boxes and scattered china still packed after years. Shard of glass threatened my feet before Quaid caught my arm, pulled me back.

We circled around, found a few boxes, also ripped wide, but bearing old clothes we'd meant to send to charity. It felt good to slide into a pair of jeans, to slip on a fresh t-shirt and scuff my feet into a rather wretched-but still comfortable-pair of discarded sneakers.

My toes were immediately happy with this change of events.

I would have used magic to clear away the destruction under normal circumstances. Instead, Quaid and I, he now also dressed in a shirt I remembered from before we were married and jeans with a giant hole in one knee, had to pick our way through the slivers and chunks of broken china. Bits rang as my feet shoved them aside, searching the dark with my demon's eyesight, rendering the space almost lit like daylight despite the growing night outside the basement windows.

We worked in silence, pulling free broken hunks of furniture, Quaid heaving an old rug out of my way. It felt so still here, so oppressive, I didn't want to break the quiet with words and I suppose he felt the same way.

By the time we reached the back corner, I realized two things. One, the cement block protecting the cache hadn't been discovered. So a big phew moment. At least, until understanding number two hit me like a freight train doing a hundred miles an hour on fire.

The marker for X marks the spot had vanished.

Batsheva Moromond's mummy was gone.

I think Quaid must have made the realization the same moment I did, because he stared at the spot with his mouth open. I reached out and tapped his chin, his teeth clicking together as I sighed and shrugged.

My fault. I should have put the old bitch out in the sun when I had the chance instead of leaving her down here, gathering mold. She'd tried to kill me multiple times, it seemed only fair to make her suffer. And now, she was out of my control again, likely in the hands of the Brotherhood.

Not good. Not good at all.

Whatever. I'd deal with her later. For now, I bent over the concrete floor and fished around for what we really came for.

This took a little subtlety. I had to use magic to unseal the hidey hole, just a breath of it, carefully shielded. Quaid kept watch over his shoulder, though I felt him moving away from me, possibly searching for anything valuable he could take to the family. More blankets, old clothes, pillows. Our lives now revolved around the barest creature comforts, so I hardly blamed him.

Pale blue flames flared around a square of floor before lifting gently into the air and settling beside the hole with barely a rattle. I breathed a sigh of relief before reaching in a liberating the large black, square can inside. I'd left the key in the lock, not even thinking someone would stumble on it. And good thing they hadn't. There was maybe only five thousand dollars and a small sheaf of personal bonds, but it should be enough to keep us going for a while.

I stuffed the wad of bills into my jeans, the bonds sliding under my t-shirt and into my waistband at the back. Maybe I should have resealed the hole, but whoever had been here came up empty already and there wasn't anything left to take.

The stairs creaked behind me. I turned, watched Quaid going up, though he didn't look any more upset or worried than normal, so I followed him. Ran into him at the top of the steps, looking around his wide shoulder at the destruction in the kitchen. More broken dishes, the table on its side, cracked down the middle, chairs shattered into kindling. We'd spent so many hours at that table, since I was sixteen years old. Memories flashed through my head, eating cookies with Mom, helping Meira with her homework. Talking to Alison for the first time. Planning the salvation of the Universe with all my friends waiting and ready to help. My life revolved around this house.

And the Brotherhood tried to destroy it.

At least the walls were still standing, even if the cupboards were ripped from the studs, the front door glass shattered. Quaid moved to the hall, me trailing behind him, one of my fingers hooked in his back pocket. The living room was a flurry of stuffing, the sofa and chairs all shredded, giant holes in the walls. As if Belaisle took our escape out on our things when he couldn't have us. My sneakers squeaked on the first step as we climbed to the second floor. I winced at the state of Ethie's bedroom, though I went inside anyway, her pink chandelier-mine, once-in a shattered mess in the middle of her torn mattress. The contents of her closet were strewn on the floor, some of her things wrecked, but I managed to find one of her little backpacks and fill it with clothing for her.

I met Quaid in the hall. He was just leaving Gabriel's room, a bag of his own in his hands. Great minds. Yeah, right.

We paused outside our bedroom, looking in, and for the first time I let out a little cry of hurt. This was Mom's room before I became coven leader. It still vaguely smelled like her, lilacs lingering. But we'd made it our own when we got married. I loved this room, the feel of it, the way Quaid's and my power mingled here.

Empty now, like the rest of the house. Our beautiful four poster he'd made with his own hands and magic was crushed and broken on the carpet, the mattress tossed against the far wall. Both end tables were upside down, drawers emptied out. I ignored the little things, just stuff. But the sight of the antique dressing table Quaid had given me for my birthday four years ago shattered, the mirror in shards scattered as far as the bathroom tile, for some reason finally broke me.

I turned with a sob and clung to my husband. His arms pulled me tight to his wide chest, voice soft as he whispered words I didn't hear into my hair. This was our home. Where we lived and loved and had our family. Where I grew up finally, after trying my hardest not to.

I thought it would always be home. Fooled myself, really.

Time to let it go.

I finally pulled back from him, sniffling, wiping at my running nose. He bent and handed me a tissue from a box lying crumpled at our feet and I blew aggressively into it.

"It's not just here," he said, voice cracking. "The whole town feels lost. Doesn't it?"

I hadn't reached out yet, didn't have the courage. But now, I had to. And met head on what he meant.

Wilding Springs had been built by a Gatekeeper, a Sidhe soul carrying family, the O'Danes, that power buried in the very fabric of the town, protecting it. Keeping it safe from harm and expansion, and from the locals noticing anything was amiss.

When I closed the Gate after Liam's death, I worried Wilding Springs would change. But it didn't. Likely due to the fact the Wild Hunt lived under our house, and the power of the coven's magic-and my maji wards-continued where the Gate's energy left off.

I'd taken the family magic with me when I stripped everyone from town to safety. Including the Wild. Leaving Wilding Springs alone and unshielded. Normal. With a gaping hole where magic used to be.

It was almost enough to crack my shell again, but I held on. Maybe our home wasn't anymore. But I wouldn't let the people of this town down. I'd find a way to come back, to salvage what I could. To take back Wilding Springs.

The thought filled my heart suddenly, drove me to a moment of excitement. To hope.

"We'll be back." I looked up into Quaid's eyes, saw his surprise, then his determination.

"Damned right we will," he said. "This is home, Syd. And they can't take that from us."

"We could run," I said, one hand on his chest. "We could find a place to start again. And leave the council idiots to their mess."

He nodded. "But."

That made me laugh, despite the new tears that tracked down my cheeks. "Since when have we ever backed down from a fight?" I sighed, stepped away from him, slinging Ethie's bag over my shoulder. "We stand our ground. And we take our territory back."

Quaid hugged me from behind. "I have an idea," he said. I turned toward him. "I still have some friends in the Enforcers." I wondered at times if he missed being one of them. He'd left, thanks to some stupid law keeping us apart. And though I knew he loved me, it was the one thing the two of us didn't talk about. "I can't believe they are all in on this. Which means there's probably some kind of resistance movement in the works."

I didn't have the heart to tell him he was probably wrong. And, what did I know?

Witches. I knew witches. And didn't trust them to do the right thing, ever.

Still, if that was what he wanted. "Let's go back," I said. "Then we'll figure out what to do next."

I led this time, stopping to go back, to search the drawers of the bathroom vanity where I found, tucked carefully into an old sock, the slumbering crystal I'd given so much power to it had developed a soul, held all of my magic on the Stronghold plane while Demetrius asked me to sacrifice everything to save the Universe, only to have my magic returned through this very crystal. It shivered as I prodded it gently, embraced me with excitement.

They hadn't found it. And now, it was safe with me. I smiled at Quaid, real hope in this one discovery and he held out his hand to me with a grim one of his own.

I was half way down the stairs, fingers stroking the angles of the crystal, when I froze in place at the sight of a black tunnel appearing just inside the living room. I hissed at Quaid, reaching for the veil, only to freeze in place and gape as a tall, handsome man with flowing blond hair in a gray coat stepped out. The lovely woman beside him looked familiar, but I was already hurtling myself down the stairs and into Piers Southway's arms.

He hugged me tight, thin dress shirt soft under my cheek. "Nice to see I haven't lost my touch," he said, winking as I pulled away.

I laughed, Quaid, too, despite Piers's usual innuendo that typically raised a frown from my husband.

We all felt it the same instant, the pressure of approaching power. The Brotherhood must have sensed Piers's appearance and were coming to investigate. I jerked open the veil as a wave of darkness crashed into the house. With one hand holding Piers and the other pushing Quaid, I dragged us all into the gap and sealed it behind me just before the sorcery hit.

Let Belaisle suck on that failure like a popsicle from hell.

***