The woods seemed to close in around me, the brambles thick, the bare branches and needled pines leaning together, blocking out the light.
The well was there, waiting for me behind the ruined house, its ring of stones sinking into the ground and camouflaged by tall weeds. My heart clenched as I moved toward it, sure I could hear the ghost of that blue jay screeching at me:Eee-eee-eee. How could you do this to me? What kind of monster are you?
But it was only the live blue jay scolding me.
I reached the edge of the old well and looked down into its black eye. I saw only darkness and shadows, the circular rock wall going down, down, down into nothingness. I imagined a pile of dead, forgotten leaves at the bottom, the remains of the tiny bird skeleton resting beneath them.
I listened for the terrible screech of the blue jay, but there was only silence.
Had I actually expected to hear it, after all these years? That the bird I’d consigned to such a sorry fate would still be there waiting, distraught?
Where have you been?
How could you leave me here all this time?
I turned away, reached into my tote bag, and began. I knelt on the ground, the damp leaf litter and old grass soaking my jeans. I peeled off my gloves and got to work.
I laid the white cloth out on the ground, set my mother’s stone in the middle of it. I could almost hear it pleading angrily, demanding to be brought back to my mother. It looked duller, less alive already. It knew what was coming.
The sun in the east, behind me, made the shadows of the trees seem to dance in the clearing as the wind blew. They became figures: terrible angels with wings—as I watched, they turned into insects thrumming, buzzing.
I lit the candle, picked up the rock, and passed it through the flame. “With the power of fire, I bind you.”
I scraped through the damp leaves, scrabbled up some cold dirt, and sprinkled it down on the stone. “With the power of earth, I bind you.”
The wind picked up, making the tree-shadow insect-angels dance more frantically, reach for me with terrible pincer-like claws.
I poured the salt water from the jar I’d brought. “With the power of water, I bind you.”
I heard my mother’s voice in my head. My mother the demon.Useless, know-nothing girl.
I leaned over the rock, blew on it. “With the power of air, I bind you.”
Who do you think you are?
I took the piece of parchment, drew sigils of protection—the same symbols that had been carved into my back with a knife, that I’d drawn on Olivia’s back with a marker—and wrote the words as I spoke them:“I bind you, Azha, demon of darkness. I take away your powers. I trap you in this rock for all eternity. You will not enter another soul. So mote it be.”
I was sure I heard movement—the crack of a branch, the rustle of dead leaves—in the trees near the path by which I had arrived. I looked up, saw a gray squirrel racing up a red pine tree. The insect-angel shadows in the clearing seemed to encircle me now, running long icy legs and claws over me, sending chills all the way through me.
I pulled out my knife, used it to cut my index finger, wincing as I let drops of my own blood fall on the paper.
Carefully I wrapped the stone in the paper, then in the white cloth. Chanting, “I bind you, I bind you, I bind you,” in a monotone, doing my best to believe in the words, to feel their power, as I wound the bundle with white string and tied it tightly.
I held my knife against the rock, the tip still sticky with my blood. “By the power of the Descender, I bind you. I send you back where you came from.”
The wind died down.
The terrible insect-angel shadows began to retreat; to become tree branches again, swaying gently in the warm winter breeze.
My knife seemed to buzz and thrum in my hand, electric and alive; it had been waiting all these years for just this moment.
Then I picked up the bundled rock, sure I could feel it pulsate, beat faintly like a living heart in my hand.
My mother’s heart, Bobbi’s heart, the heart of the demon Azha.
I stood, looked down into the black eye of the old well, and dropped the bundled-up stone into it, watched it fall, disappearing into the darkness.
I turned my back, half expecting to hear a cry from the well:eee-eee-eee.
