Andre’s eyes softened, and he gently squeezed my hand. “I know, love. I’m so sorry it happened. It must have frightened you out of your wits.”
“Yeah,” Finn chimed in. “And that’s okay, Mom. Remember what you told me when we were at the house in Silver Lake?”
The house we’d lived in before moving here had been haunted by a nasty old poltergeist named Frank. He’d been Darla’s main squeeze at one point, until he’d blown her brains out the back of her head in a fit of jealous rage. Then he’d killed himself. Darla had hung around in ghost form, traumatized and pissed about her untimely death. Frank had carried on simplybecause she had, and the bastard wouldn’t leave her well enough alone.
Frank had targeted Finn because Finn had been a scared eleven-year-old kid at the time, not a gypsy enchantress who could cast him out. Which I had. Thoroughly. He’d never haunt another soul again.
“It’s okay to be scared as long as you don’t let it paralyze you,” I whispered, weighing the words I’d told Finn all those years ago. Their meaning still held true, even all these years later.
Finn took my other hand, squeezing it harder than strictly necessary. I squeezed back, grateful for the reminder that I wasn’t the only one who felt small and scared sometimes.
“It’s gonna be okay, Mom.”
I sniffled, dabbing at my face with a napkin once he released me. I felt leaky, like every bad feeling was going to burst the dam and come flooding out of me.
“I know, buddy. Thanks for reminding me.”
He beamed. “Always.”
Chapter Ten
I didn’t dream often, but when I did, it was usually important.
I tried to pay attention as images lurched from the misty corners of my memory. Places I’d been. Places I wanted to go. Places that magic led me. This was one of the latter. A mix of my own understanding and the sending of something more powerful than I was.
I found myself standing at the edge of a forest. The trees stretched incredibly tall, their shadows long and trembling. A river of molten gold wound between the trunks, its surface rippling with light. I felt a familiar hum thrumming in my chest, the echo of a power I’d only called on once or twice before. At least, consciously.
“Alchemy,” I whispered, staring at the winding river in awe. “This is...”
The water rippled, and I jerked back on reflex, scurrying behind the trunk of the nearest tree to watch. As I watched, a figure rose from within the river. A lithe young woman, her golden limbs shifting as she moved. Then, the visage shifted to a mature woman. And finally, a woman with hair of white-gold, her skin seamed with lines, her back gently curved by the press of time. The forest trembled under a gentle breeze as shadows slipped between the roots.
The ground shifted beneath me, and sigils began glowing faintly in the soil. They appeared as circles of light, like protective wards. But some shimmered weakly, edges fraying.
“Who are you?” I asked.
But as soon as I asked the question, I knew the answer. It was like this truth that ached behind my ribs—a deep knowing that just suddenly existed within me. There was only one person she could be.
“The goddess,” I whispered. “You’re Wanda’s goddess.”
She smiled, and it was like the sun itself was kissing my face. I wanted to step closer to her. To wade into the river. But I knew that the heat pouring from that magic would hurt me if I tried to touch it.
“I am your goddess too, Poppy,” she said, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on my forehead. Something bloomed in my hair, fragrant and floral. The goddess stroked a fond finger over one of its leaves.
“Such a pretty namesake.”
“Thanks,” I said slowly. “But that doesn’t explain how you’re my goddess now, too.”
“You’ll understand soon enough, seedling,” she said quietly. “For now, watch. I can only guide you so far down the path.”
A hollow appeared ahead, fragile, nest-like, glowing faintly. My pulse began to pound as the goddess’ meaning slammed home. The home I’d tried to make, the sanctuary of my family, was at risk. Hands reached toward me from the mist, warm and guiding, and I dimly realized they were the goddess’s.
I tried to move forward, tried to run, but every path twisted back on itself, drawing me toward the hollow. The shadows at the forest’s edge stretched and shivered. Something lurked there. Watching. Waiting. I knew instinctively that it would come for what I loved most.
“When?” I asked, pleading. “When does it happen?”
“It isn’t about when. It’s about what you do when it comes. You must embrace your power, Poppy.”
I glanced down at the river, feeling the heat and the strange weight of its flow. “I don’t… understand. The sigils, the shapes… why the things change. I can’t control any of it.”
