“What are you doing?” Ash asked as I ran a palm over the first tree root. I grabbed the knife and sheath off the shelves of supplies in the basement, strapping the holster across my thigh and forcing myself to ignore the confused pain on my brother’s face.
This was the day I’d dreaded, the day that all our deceptions came to light.
I watched his face, his little forehead creased in confusion as I pulled the knife from the sheath.
“Willow,” he said, stepping forward as if to stop me when I drew the sharpened edge of the blade against my palm. A thin line sliced through, blood seeping through too slowly as I clenched it and pressed my fingertips into the wound. I held Ash’s horrified stare as I reached out with my palm covered in my blood, touching it to the tree root.
“Sanguis sanguinis mei, aperte,” I murmured, allowing my eyes to drift closed as the tree drank from me. As it took the blood I offered in exchange for safe passage to the woods. The magic of the Greens flowed through my veins even if the bones of the Blacks eluded me.
The root beneath my hand shifted, drawing my attention to it as it staggered and pulled itself through the earth. Dirt rained down from where the root moved, falling to the floor and finding a new home there. As it shifted to the side and rose, a tunnel appeared in the space it had once blocked.
I sheathed my knife, grasping Ash by the hand and tugging him toward it.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on,” he said, snatching his hand back as he left me glancing between him and the tunnel that offered us our only chance.
“There isn’t time,” I protested.
I went to the shelf of supplies we’d kept tucked safely away down here all these years, away from his prying, nosy eyes. My aunt’s journal rested on the top shelf, collecting dust since I’d finished reading through her experiences at Hollow’s Grove University years ago.
Stepping around to his back, I unzipped his backpack and deposited the journal into it. “This will explain most everything, and when you’re older, I’ll find a way to tell you more.”
My aunt wasn’t his aunt, and he wouldn’t have the same magic she did. She’d had the magic of the necromancers, not the earthen magic of Ash’s and my mother. But he would understand the basic notion of what it meant to be a witch.
Of the dangers lurking in Crystal Hollow that I needed to protect him from.
“Did Mom know?” he asked as I moved around to the front and guided him into the mouth of the tunnel.
Grabbing a flashlight quickly and turning it on, I grasped the wood panel, pulling it closed as we moved inside.
It was always so dark underground, the lack of stars shining in the sky making this tunnel some of the truest darkness I’d ever known. Panic threatened to consume me, the reminder of the other true darkness lingering. I shoved it down for the sake of my brother, pushing through with a deep, steadying breath.
“Claudere,” I murmured, instructing the tree to resume its natural positioning. It moved, sealing us off from the basement once again as I took Ash by the hand. My skin was wet with blood as I gripped the flashlight in my injured palm, nodding until I realized he probably couldn’t see me well.
“She was a Green Witch too,” I said, glancing over at him as I moved us through the tunnels slowly but steadily. The ground beneath our feet was uneven, the dirt dug out slowly over the course of years, magic chipping away at it bit by bit to avoid overuse. “As are you.”
His lips parted in shock, staring down at his hand as he lifted it to look at it with new appreciation.
I didn’t tell him that I’d bound his magic to keep him hidden, choosing instead to leave that conversation for when he came of age. Until that day, until he could make the choice of what he wanted for himself, I wouldn’t allow the Coven to take it from him.
“But I’ve never—”
“And you won’t be able to until you’re older,” I answered, pausing my steps to turn and look at him with the stern set to my lips that he knew all-too-well. “You can’t tell anyone. You understand that? Your father isn’t like us. His family is not like us, and revealing what you are will just mean that creatures like that man outside find you and take you.”
“What was he?” Ash asked as I tugged him forward more quickly. Once we reached the cave, we would have to run through the woods. We’d have to hope that the Vessel couldn’t scent us.
“Something called a Vessel,” I explained, contemplating how much I should tell him. He was so young, so impressionable. I still remembered my first nightmare of the creatures who survived off witch’s blood when I’d been too young to know the horrors of them. “They work with the Coven of witches and live together. We want to avoid going there altogether,” I said instead of giving him the truth.