I lead them inside, my pulse hammering. “Mom is resting with the ancestors. I can call her back if you think it’s necessary. Is this about my sisters?”
“It is.”
I’ve always considered Hallowind House to be very open and roomy, but with a man the size of Garrison in its halls, the house feels downright claustrophobic.
Wylder, Rowan, and Asher stand the moment we arrive at the back of the house.
Everyone knows Vale but based on the way Rowan and Wylder are staring at the seven-foot-tall Rift Minotaur, they’ve never met Garrison.
I make the introductions and we get right to it.
“Did you say you’ve found Poppy’s sisters?” Asher asks.
“We believe so, yes.” Vale moves to the kitchen and sets his briefcase on the table. The clasps click open with two sharpclacks, and he pulls out a thick folder.
He flips the front cover open, and photographs spill across the surface of the table. Buildings. Maps. Lists of names.
“The investigation into Laurel Cromwell's activities has uncovered an extensive degree of corruption,” Vale says.
Garrison grunts and pegs me with a frown. “Unfortunately, it’s much worse than simply her manipulation of your family. I’m sorry, Poppy. Something of this magnitude should’ve been caught by the Order years ago. This should never have happened.”
I shrug. “But it did. And, as far as I’m aware, there’s no changing it back without severe consequences for screwing with the timeline, so here we are. All we can do now is find my sisters and bring them home.”
“And make Laurel and her crew pay,” Asher adds.
“Yeah, that too.” I lean forward, searching the images for any evidence of my sisters.
Asher shifts closer, his shoulder against mine. “Tell us what we’re looking at.”
Vale spreads the photographs out, pointing to photos of what looks like a concrete and adobe building in the center of a desert compound. “From what we’ve learned, for the past decade, Laurel has been part of a network systematically imprisoningwitches and draining their magic to fuel her own power and influence."
Yeah, that’s pretty much what we thought.
Wylder steps forward and picks up one of the photos. “How many witches do you think they’ve taken?”
Garrison makes a noise in his throat. “There’s no way to know until we take them down. Given that Davina Draven was held and siphoned for a decade, we can assume they keep elite witches for long periods. We’re hoping that has kept the number of witches needed for their purposes low.”
I scoff. “That doesn’t help my sisters or Davina. They were kidnapped and tortured for years.”
Garrison meets my gaze and dips his chin. “And that’s inexcusable. You have my word, once we secure the young witches affected by this, the Order of the Arcane will do everything in our power to make amends to them and their families.”
I don’t even know what to think about that. How do they make amends? What have my sisters and the other witches gone through? They’ve lost years of their lives. And who knows what kind of long-term damage has been done by their siphoning.
My mental spiral is interrupted by Vale tracing his fingers over a map. “The important thing now is to bring them home. And we believe we have a plan.”
The compound sits in a pocket of inaccessible land somewhere in the desert. It’s encompassed by hills on all sides, and for people in the nocana world, it would take a helicopter to reach it. For those of us in the magical world, it’s a matter of a few portals spelled to open and remain undetectable.
From a distance, the property looks like a sprawling Southwestern ranch with stone walls penning in two large ranch-style homes and a handful of smaller outbuildings.
If I didn’t know what I was looking at, I would’ve assumed this was the home of a wealthy recluse who values privacy over convenience.
Unfortunately, that’s not the case.
“They’ve probably got this place warded up the magical wazoo,” Asher says. “Can your people take care of that?”
Garrison stands beside us, his long, curved horns gleaming obsidian in the sunlight, his thick, shaggy mane spilling over his broad shoulders and down his back and sides. “The tactical team of the Order can handle any defensive measures these witches have in place. Whatever Laurel and her co-conspirators think they’ve done to get away with their crimes, they are mistaken. Theywillbe held accountable.”
The dangerous edge vibrating in his deep baritone tells me how deeply offended he is that Laurel’s gotten away with this for so long. Good. I hope he unleashes all his fury upon her and her collaborators.
