A Cottage in the Woods
Natalie,Sky,Fiona,Hazeland I land beneath the steam clock with Sophia Madsen in our midst, her hands bound in heavy iron casings that match the ones she forced onto Troy. Her crimson trench coat is torn and dirty, her hair matted with sweat and blood. The purple glow that consumed her eyes has dimmed, like dying embers that refuse to be completely extinguished.
“Home sweet home,” I mutter, nudging her forward with my gauntlet. I’m sick of looking at her and just want her out of my sight at this point. “Bet you didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”
Sophia stumbles but catches herself with surprising agility for someone who looks drained enough to collapse. The chimeras’ unbinding ritual has hollowed her out, leaving her cheeks gaunt and her skin ashen. Still, the hatred in her eyes burns so fiercely it makes my stomach churn.
Fiona leads our procession, her back straight and her steps confident, though she’s clearly in agony with her broken arm. Natalie flanks Sophia while Sky limps a step behind her. Hazel brings up the rear, her eyes darting everywhere as she takes in the underground building’s grandeurfor the second time in her life. The other Shadows are trickling back, some already here.
“I see you’ve redecorated,” Sophia says as we cross the lounge. “I liked it better before.”
We follow a dark corridor, and Fiona uses magic to push open the door to the dungeon. I shiver as the familiar cold, damp air hits me. Natalie’s arm slides around my waist, and she pulls me closer as we descend the stairs together.
“A bit nicer than the cell you gave Dad,” Sky says, shoving Sophia roughly into the same one I occupied.
Sophia turns to face us with an eerie calm that makes my skin crawl. Her encased hands hang at her sides.
“You’ll have a trial,” Fiona says, her voice clipped and professional. “The coven will determine your punishment.”
She slams the door with an echoing clang that reverberates through my chest.
Sophia’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “Such hostility. And here I thought we were developing a rapport.”
“Let’s go,” Natalie whispers into my ear. Her body is warm against mine as she guides me back toward the stairs. Like me, she clearly doesn’t want to spend a second longer than necessary down here.
As we turn away, Sophia’s voice follows us, soft but clear.
“Your ability is wasted on the coven’s short leash, Katie. You’ve barely scratched the surface of what you are and what you could become.” There’s aclink-clinkas her fingernails tap the iron encasings from the inside, the sound unnervingly delicate. “The coven will turn on you when they realize. And when they do… Well, you know where to find me. My father always said patience is the virtue that rewards most generously. And I am very patient.”
A chill runs down my spine as we walk away. I have nothing more to say to her. And what she doesn’t understand is that I’ve already had thecoven turn on me, and I survived. The coven that matters—the people closest to me—will always come back. Hazel is proof of that.
Natalie looks over her shoulder at Sophia and laughs. “Keep telling yourself that. See you at your trial.”
Sky pats my back, maybe noticing my expression. “Don’t worry. Those cells have held our most dangerous criminals for over a century. They’ll hold her.”
As dawn breaks, the lounge hums with life. Witches drift between tables, some still in battle-stained clothes, others freshly changed. The air smells like a weird mixture of soothing herbal tea and mud and sweat.
Our booth is a little island of exhaustion and relief. Ethel is warm in my lap, purring loudly and kneading my thigh. Natalie is cleaned up and wearing a black T-shirt and plaid pajama pants. Her arm is securely around my shoulders, her body solid against mine. She and Sky keep looking at each other with watery smiles that make my chest ache in the best way. Troy sits at the end of the table in his wheelchair, bright and grinning.
Past Troy, witches keep looking my way, catching my eye and smiling. A group of Alchemists in green robes wave at me. The middle-schoolers I met months ago call my name like we’re friends as they run to the courtyard.
I return the waves, though it feels weird after spending so long receiving the opposite. I guess word about what happened in Lighthouse Park spread quickly—and suddenly, I’m someone to pay attention to. Someone who can talk to chimeras and who helped the Shadows take down Sophia Madsen.
Whatever. I’ll take it. Anyway, my true coven is right here in front of me.
I lean into Natalie, savoring the simple fact of her presence. Mere hours ago, I watched her fall at the hands of Sophia, blood soaking her clothes until she’d come within an inch of death. The memory makes my throat tighten. I blink rapidly, refusing to cry again after the waterworks I unleashed when Doctor Sharma finally let me see her.
She must sense my thoughts because she squeezes me, pressing a kiss to my temple. “I’m right here,” she whispers.
Ethel nuzzles me as if to reassure me that she, too, is not planning to leave me anytime soon. I pet her, grateful for her steady companionship.
“This place is incredible,” Hazel says for the hundredth time, taking in the lounge. She hasn’t stopped examining everything since we arrived—the Victorian lamps, the lush foliage that makes it feel like a greenhouse, the witches casually performing magic. She raps her knuckles on the table and bends to look underneath it. “There’s really no trap door? No hidden compartment?”
“Just magic,” Sky says with a grin.
Hazel shakes her head in wonder and sips her bright green smoothie—the one she insisted on ordering after seeing the way our tea floated up through the table. “Ugh, it tastes so fresh I could die.”
“Tropical fruit trees in the kitchen,” Natalie says.
