"Famous last words," Kota muttered from where she was helping Phi document the artifacts on her tablet. "Should I add 'attempting impossible magical fusion under apocalyptic time pressure' to our ever-growing list of questionable life choices?"
"Add it right under 'taking on evil entities with attitude and an unhealthy caffeine addiction’," I replied as I carefully lifted one of the preserved gris-gris bags from the tunnel beneath Thomas's cemetery. The thing hummed with power and mademy magical senses purr. It was designed to work in concert with living bloodlines.
"What exactly does this ritual involve?" Margaret asked. "Because if it requires virgin sacrifice, I'm out. If we have to dance naked under the full moon, I'm going to need advance notice to mentally prepare."
"Well, there goes half our backup plans," Kota said with a perfectly straight face.
Thomas chuckled and changed the subject, saying, "The original binding was completed at Congo Square. But there were anchor points at my cemetery and six other locations throughout the city. They worked together to create a web that would hold the Collector's prison in place."
"Do we have to go to all these places?" Sarah began chewing on her lower lip as she waited for the answer. Clearly, she was worried about leaving the safety of the plantation.
"No. We strengthen the existing anchors and reinforce the prison from one central location," Adèle said into everyone's minds as she prowled into the room.
Margaret's sweet tea glass slipped from her fingers and shattered on the floor. "Did that cat just... talk? In my head?"
Thomas shot up from his chair so fast that he knocked over his stack of cemetery records. "What in the name of?—"
"Sweet mother of jazz," Claude breathed, cutting him off. "I've seen a lot of strange things today, but telepathic cats weren't on the list."
Sarah just stared, her mouth hanging open as she pointed at Adèle with a trembling finger. "Everyone, meet Adèle," I said quickly, before anyone could have a complete breakdown. "She's our familiar and has been helping us navigate supernatural crises for months. Yes, she talks telepathically. No, it's not normal. Yes, you'll get used to it."
Adèle flicked her tail with obvious amusement at their reactions before continuing. "The original anchor points throughout the city are already established and connected to the magical grid your ancestors created. Rather than trying to physically travel to each location—which would take too much time and spread your forces dangerously thin—we can channel power through the existing network. Think of it like electrical wiring in a house. You don't need to touch every light bulb to turn on the power; you just need to flip the main switch. The sisters can make Willowberry the central hub, so it feeds into all the anchor points. From here, with the bloodlines working in harmony, we can send reinforcement energy through the spiritual channels your families have been maintaining for over a century."
"That's good to know," I said, grateful for Adèle's explanation but knowing we still had massive gaps in our knowledge, "but we need to figure out exactly how this ritual is supposed to work first."
"And how exactly do we make Willowberry the hub?" Dre asked as she looked out the window like she was trying to spot the hidden magical infrastructure. "Is there some kind of supernatural control panel we're missing?"
"You need to tap into the magic through the families," Adèle replied as she jumped onto the table with the detritus we had gathered. "Your combined power will help you link to the original anchor sites, but it must be channeled through the Guardian bloodlines. They are the keys that unlock the connections their ancestors forged."
Phi looked up from the cemetery records with a nod. "I found something about that here. This journal says the original binding required specific magical resonances from each family line."
"Look at this," Dani said as she pointed to a section of parchment we'd recovered from the warehouse. "These symbols are referenced in the notes we found at Margaret's aunt's house, in some cemetery records, and sheet music I saw at Claude’s house. I think they connect the bloodlines."
"It's like a supernatural jigsaw puzzle," I observed, watching my sisters piece together fragments of magical knowledge that had been scattered across the city. "The Collector's servants were trying to destroy the instructions, but they didn't get everything."
Before anyone could respond to this moderately encouraging development, the parlor doors burst open with enough force to rattle the pictures on the wall. Cyran stood in the doorway, disheveled and drawn. My heart clenched in sympathy for him. "Please tell me you have solutions, not more problems," I said as my hands clenched into fists.
"I wish I did," he said, running a hand through his hair as he stepped into the room. "Three more of the families I invited have vanished completely. All fifteen members of the Haik clan disappeared from their house in Metairie. It happened sometime between dinner and midnight when Saida showed up to escort them here. She said there were no signs of struggle. And she hasn’t found evidence of where they went."
"Shit," I breathed as I pinched the bridge of my nose. "What about the other guests?" We had no idea when he asked us to host a family reunion that he was doing it for the families involved in imprisoning the Collector. Our answer would not have changed if he’d said something, but knowing would have been nice.
Cyran's agitation was evident as he began to pace. "The Bergeron family fled to parts unknown after something they described as 'shadow wolves' attacked their car on I-10. And theLandrys are holed up in a hotel downtown and refusing to come out after hearing stories."
I looked around at my sisters, who were listening with expressions that ranged from grim to murderous. "How many confirmed attendees do we still have?"
"Maybe sixty-five,” he replied. That was down from the original hundred and twenty he’d told us. “And half of those are demanding explanations I can't give without a plan. They're terrified. Some of these families have been coming together for generations. Now, they're talking about never setting foot in Louisiana again."
"Our interference changed what Michel and the Collector are doing," Dre blurted as she locked gazes with Cyran. "To stay one step ahead of us, they are eliminating potential threats and sources of power before we can organize any kind of ritual. They want to upset everyone here and make them afraid. They know we have all but Michel’s bloodlines."
Cyran nodded grimly. "That's what I was thinking."
"Change of plans," I announced. "We're turning Willowberry into a magical fortress that can withstand Michel’s supernatural assault."
"While also performing a ceremony we've never attempted using artifacts we barely understand to contain an entity that's apparently grown stronger than anticipated," Dea added helpfully. "Should be fun."
Thomas reached into his satchel and pulled out a leather-wrapped bundle. "I don't know if this is important, but the spirits guided me to this a few weeks ago." He unwrapped what appeared to be a mirror made from obsidian. Its surface so dark it seemed to absorb light. "They called it a viewing glass. Said it would show us the true extent of what we're facing. It might help us with this fight."
"And you waited until now to mention this because...?" Kota asked with raised eyebrows that suggested she was questioning if Thomas was really on our side.
