I remembered sitting in the dark of my closet and shouting,“No, Mommy!”
I’d known exactly what had happened to that bracelet, seeing how I’d been using it for an hour to summon sweets from the grocery store.
The closet door had swung open a minute later, revealing me in all of my chocolate-faced glory, surrounded by cellophane wrappers and Hostess Ding Dong crumbs. I knew the game was up, and I handed over the gold bracelet without a word.
“This was locked in my dresser. How did you find it?”
“House told me how to get it.”
She rubbed chocolate off the abyss-black jewel in the center.“Tempy, our house is special. You know that. But it can’t talk.”
She’d been right, of course. The house couldn’t talk the way people did. But it could share impressions and images and memories of what had come before.
Magic was literally built into its foundation: spells etched into stone in the early 1820s to ward off the chill of winter and the heat of summer, to keep mundane and supernatural threats at bay, to preserve food and drink, and so much more. Each generation added new enchantments. Their presence and their power strengthened the house and the land.
The connection between the house and its residents had deepened over the decades. By the time I came along, it could recognize and respond to our wants and needs. And that morning, I had wanted—needed—chocolate cupcakes.
I’d seen Mommy use her bracelet to retrieve items from throughout the world. Ever helpful, the house had shown me exactly where in the master bedroom to find it.
“House likes you better than Grandpa,”I said.“But it loves me best. Me and the chipmunks under the porch. They tickle. House thinks I should learn how to change into a chipmunk.”
“How long have you been able to communicate with the house?”
“All my life.”I remembered being confused that she couldn’t hear it. I also remembered clutching my stomach and saying,“My tummy hurts.”
I’d had many friends, enemies, lovers, and competitors in my lifetime. Occasionally all in the same person. But my best friend and closest companion had always been that old brick house on Essex Street.
And now that friend was screaming.
“What’s happening?” Annette held my arm as she helped me back to her car.
“Alex has reached the house,” I said. “He’s trying to break in.”
Jenny was on the phone with Ronnie. Their voices were tinny and hard to understand. I wondered if the thunder had done permanent damage to my hearing.
Annette held my arm while I climbed into the back seat. Then she pulled out her own phone. “I’m checking the security feeds. The good news is nothing’s on fire this time. Alex is out front. I count six kids with him, all of them further gone than Morgan or Sage. No civilians standing around livestreaming things yet.”
That was good. It meant the house’s suggestion spell was still running, encouraging people to ignore anything outside of their worldview.
“How do you kill a house, anyway?” asked Annette.
“The same way you kill anything else,” I said. “Destroy the physical, and the rest follows.”
She started the car. “How much time do we have?”
“I’m not sure.” The house had been weakened from Morgan’s cursed spell cards and Sage’s eldritch fire. We were slower to heal than we used to be. And I’d borrowed so much strength to call the lightning and destroy the shoggoth. “Not long. He’s peeling through our wards.”
As each one fell, I felt a tearing sensation, like a scab ripped too early from the skin.
The house called for help. I felt its confusion. Why wasn’t I stopping this? Why wasn’t I there?
Traffic was a mess. The car crept down the street, stopping and starting again like an injured tortoise. Police directed us around damaged streets and uncleared accidents. I knew Annette and Jenny were as frustrated as I was, so I said nothing.
This was the beginning of Ronnie’s prophecy. We were too far out and moving too slowly. Alex would complete his sacrifice and waken R’gngyk. And then he’d lose control, because fools like that always lost control, and everyone around them suffered the consequences.
The Finn ancestral home would become ground zero for the end of the world.
I cried out as a pair of Alex’s thralls pulled the last of the burnt rosebushes from the earth and tore it apart.
