"This is definitely not in any disaster preparedness manual," Lia muttered, grabbing a vial of concentrated wolfsbane from her go-bag. "Claude, we need music. Something tells me it'll keep these bastards back."
“My grandmother never mentioned anything about keeping the denizens of hell at bay, but okay,” the elderly trumpet player said, lifting his instrument with hands that shook like leaves in a hurricane. “I've had stranger gigs.”
Dre cracked open the window, and the moment Claude's first notes of "When the Saints Go Marching In" drifted out into the chaos, something extraordinary happened. The zombie wildlife pressing against our wards began to slow. They became disoriented as the jazz melody wrapped around them like invisible chains made of pure sound.
"Well, I'll be damned," I breathed, watching our undead welcoming committee fumble around like they'd all been hit with magical sedatives. "Keep playing, Claude. Lia was right."
"Traditional songs carry power," Claude explained between measures. "My grandmother always said jazz was protection music, but I never understood what she meant until now."
The harmonic frequencies were disrupting the supernatural manifestations. I could feel our barriers weakening under the relentless assault. Every probe was wearing them down like water on stone.
Our familiar leaped onto the windowsill to watch the activity. “The wards won't hold much longer,"Adele whispered directlyinto our minds.“Claude’s music slowed the zombies but, the other creatures are still attacking. They’re creating pressure points that will eventually cause a cascade failure.”
"How long do we have?" I asked under my breath.
“Perhaps twenty minutes if you're lucky. But there's something else. The entity controlling them is adapting faster than it should be able to,”she added.“Someone is feeding it tactical information.”
"Marcus," Kota cursed, making my brow furrow. I was about to ask what she meant when she continued. "He's got to be in contact with other Guardian families. They've no doubt overheard stuff and are likely sharing it."
“Yes and no. I don’t believe he’s getting Willowberry-specific information. It’s more likely that he understands Guardian methodology and is using that knowledge to systematically dismantle our defenses. Much like you are talking about altering the ritual to make the prison impenetrable.”
"The zombies are reorganizing," Kaveh reported grimly from beside Kaitlyn at the front window. "They're moving into attack formations just outside the ward line."
"They look like they're waiting for something," Cami added from the side window, her usually cheerful demeanor was replaced by focused intensity.
“They are,”Adele confirmed in our minds. “The Collector is studying your responses, learning how you react to different types of pressure. It’s adjusted and has overcome the effects of the music. It's going to use them like battering rams.”
"The wards are starting to buckle," Kaitlyn called out. Sweat was beading on her forehead. "Whatever's controlling them has figured out a way around what the coven keeps casting."
I looked around at my sisters, my mind racing through our options. "We need to try a repulsion spell. Something to drive them back before they break through."
"Great idea," Lia said as she moved to join hands with Dre and Kota. "Should we try a simple banishment?"
"With a little extra kick," Dre agreed, linking her power with theirs. I added mine. The familiar sensation of our combined magic flowed through the connection as we began channeling energy toward the ward line.
"Let's give these undead bastards a taste of what the Twisted Sisters can really do," I agreed, taking my position in our familiar formation.
Each of our unique abilities amplified whatever we cast together. The air in the room immediately began to hum with power as our individual magics recognized each other. The power started weaving together like old friends at a reunion without our prompting.
"Everyone else, stay back and hold onto something," Dre warned as her hands already began to glow with her pink witch fire. She was channeling serious energy. Hastily, I added more to what I was funneling.
The familiar tingle as our power began to build started as a warm pulse in my chest. It grew outward until it felt like my entire body was humming with electricity. Lia's magic felt like cool water flowing through the connection, while Dre's burned bright and steady like a forge fire. Kota's power crackled with barely contained chaos. When Phi and Dea added their abilities to the mix, the combined energy made the hair on my arms stand up. While each sister's magical signature felt different every time we joined, the way our abilities combined was always the same comforting embrace. It reminded me of slipping into a well-worn blanket that knew exactly how to wrap around you.
"Focus on the ward line," Dre directed when our magic reached critical mass. "Push everything you've got toward those things."
The spell erupted from our circle like a tsunami. It was visible as a shimmering wave of silver and gold light that raced out the window and across the plantation. I watched it hit the ward line and explode outward. It washed over the zombified creatures with enough force to level a small building.
For a moment, it looked like it might work. The undead alligators staggered backward. Their rotting forms were actually smoking where our magic touched them. Several of the reanimated birds fell from the sky. A surge of hope made me smile as the Collector’s assault faltered under the magical pressure we were projecting.
However, there was no time to celebrate. His influence reasserted itself like a cold slap to the face. The zombies and other minions pressed forward with renewed determination while our spell slid off them like water off a duck's back. "Well, shit," Kota panted as she wiped sweat from her forehead. "That didn't work nearly as well as I hoped."
“The gris-gris bags,”Adele suggested urgently. “Use them to create secondary barriers. When the main wards fail—and they will—you'll need backup defenses.”
"I never considered using the gris-gris bags from the vault," I replied. "It’s brilliant. We can use them to create layered defenses. We know they’re effective against the Collector."
"Those are irreplaceable artifacts," Thomas protested. "If we burn them out now, we won't have them for the binding ritual."
"If we don't use them now, there won't be a binding ritual," Phi shot back. "Sometimes you have to risk everything to save everything."
