The feeling of malevolent awareness lifted slightly as the wards disintegrated. And as soon as they were gone, Riley stepped forward, focusing on the closest glass panel of the conservatory wall.
She flung out her hands, pouring out a storm of Shadows as graceful as jellyfish tentacles but as strong as ivy. She sent them burrowing through silicone seals and rubber lining, then eating into the bricks. Doing the work of decades of organic destruction in mere minutes.
Ethan added his Shadows to hers. Jade and forest green wound together, and they worked faster, dragging away the fittings until, finally, the Guardians could lift the glass free.
Then they paused for a moment outside the dark opening, Shadows swirling.
“I still don’t sense anybody in there,” Kay whispered. “Does anyone else?”
"Not me,” Emma murmured. “I don’t think he likes having people up here.”
Riley poured her Shadows ahead, searching, but found no waiting guards. Emma was right. Gordon was too arrogant to imagine the threat or too selfish to share his sacred space—perhaps both. His grove was empty. A quiet chorus of “no’s” agreed with her assessment, and Kay gestured them forward.
They slipped through the opening one at a time, turning on the flashlights of their phones to cast a flickering circle of light.
Heavy, humid air surrounded them. It was unnaturally warm and thick with the scent of mulch. Potted oak trees dripped with mistletoe and ivy. Purple flowering vervain tumbled from bronze containers. A small fountain splashed into the top pool of a layered pond, while the bottom pool was still, not even showing a ripple in its darkly gleaming surface.
It should have been beautiful. A forest glade brought to life in the middle of London. But instead, it was deeply menacing. The further they walked, the more strangely silent it became.
Their footsteps thudded quietly on the stone tiles as the Guardians fanned out. Kay and Zach took the lead with James guarding their rear, all three alert for danger. Their lights swept over the interior of the conservatory as Emma whispered directions toward a large black door on the far wall.
Before they could move more than a few steps, James grunted roughly. Riley spun at the sound of his harsh breath to see him dragging a long Shadow sword into his hand.
Riley hauled her Shadows into her palm to form her own gleaming blade even as she searched the dark corners for the danger that he’d seen. But she found nothing.
“I have to….” James shook his head as if he couldn’t explain, even to himself, what he’d seen. Then he walked quietly away, not toward the exit, but the other way. Toward the pools.
On the other side of the pond and its trickling fountain, a low table had been set up like an altar. Above it hung an oil painting of a beautiful druidess sacrificing a soldier. Her hair gleamed in gold and reds, and her eyes were an icy, cutting blue. It was clearly old and valuable. And it made Riley’s skin crawl.
James cast a look back at Riley over his shoulder, deep lines forming on his forehead, before turning back to the portrait once more.
“What is it?” Riley asked, her gaze flitting over the disturbing scene.
“I feel like I’ve seen this before,” he admitted in a low voice. “But something’s missing. Something is… not right.”
“The bowl,” Emma whispered, coming to stand beside them. “And the stone dagger.”
James winced. “The bowl and the dagger. How did I forget those?” He let out a bitter chuckle. “And that painting… fuck. She looks just like my mother.” The Shadow sword in his fist slowly buckled and twisted.
Riley watched helplessly as his Shadows turned in on themselves. As his self-loathing rose once more. She wanted to take her own dagger and slash that menacing image into a thousand tiny pieces.
Instead, she let go of the blade she’d formed and reached out for James. She surrounded him in her Shadows, searching for the words to bring him back.
But Emma spoke first. “She doesn’t only look like your mother, James. She looks like mine.” Emma patted him on the arm. “And she looks like me.”
“No.” James shook his head roughly. “You’re nothing like—”
Before he could finish, Emma whimpered, her distress cutting through the heavy stillness. Something was hurting her. Something powerful. Emma started to shake. Her back arched and her knees buckled, but James caught her in his arms before she could fall. “Emma?” His voice was frantic. “Emma!”
James spun, his eyes locking on hers. “Riley! Help me!”
Riley’s hands were already rising before he finished speaking, and she poured out her Shadows toward Emma. She worked quickly, trying to soothe the splintering headache and the spiking fear pouring off Emma in waves.
Zach reached them a second later, and James passed Emma into his arms where he cradled her tenderly. She let out another pained moan.
“It’s a vision,” Zach explained. “She hasn’t had enough time to practice. And something about this place makes them hard to control.”
“But I’ve seen her visions.” Riley spoke as she treated Emma, flooding her body with Healing Shadows, working to settle her frantic heart rate and convulsing muscles. “She controlled them. I saw her direct them.”
