A Demon’s Book Of Shadows (Witches & Demons #1)

35. Lucy

35

Lucy

“There!” I cried as the wind whipped past my airborne mother and I. Panic pulsed through me. As quickly as I’d seen the black shadows coalescing over town, they disappeared again. I needed to stop Amon’s shadows from turning on him.

I tunneled through the air, diving for the ground as quickly as my mother’s magic would allow.

“Lucy, wait!” Mom cried as we dipped toward the garden. “What did you see?”

“Didn’t you see the mass of shadows hovering over the street?” I stammered.

Mom’s hand came to my shoulder. “No, I didn’t see anything.”

My stomach twisted. The Bone Threader was doing something horrible to him.

A gust of wind ripped past us, tearing me away from Mom before I met the trees. I was hurled through the air, bits of bark catching my hair. My feet hit the ground, scraping over damp pavement.

“Lucy.”

I turned to face the silky male voice echoing behind me .

Amon stood on the sidewalk differently than he had before. No black shadows coalesced in his wake, nor did he have that crooked grin of his that I’d grown fond of.

My breath caught. Something was wrong with him. He didn’t seem to be himself. His skin was porcelain white, not the warm honey brown color I was used to. His eyes weren’t dark. They lit up in an unnatural way. When I gazed into them, I felt empty.

The scent of electricity filled my nose as his irises flickered with red and blue sparks. My periphery darkened as the tattoos on Amon’s arms became bands of colorful texture. The markings brought me back to my visions of the tree of shadows.

He turned away from me.

“Amon, wait, where are you going?” I grabbed for his arm, but my hand moved through him.

He wasn’t solid, just emptiness.

“I’ve lost myself,” he whispered, his voice fading with his form.

“Listen, I think I know how to defeat the Bone Threader. His power is tied to Melrose’s death.”

Amon’s eyes found mine, great hollowness drifting in them. “I’m trying to find my missing shadow before the Bone Threader does.”

“Amon, wait!”

He faded away. I must have been hallucinating. A woman wearing a mushroom hat was staring at me.

“Lucy?” What is going on?”

I blinked a few times, until I finally registered who I was seeing. Grace stood on the sidewalk, her giant floppy mushroom hat flapping in the breeze. “I just got back in town. Victoria texted me. She said that Mom took you flying?”

“Yeah. There have been some issues with a shadow vortex.”

“There are sinkholes everywhere. What is going on?”

“I need to practice.”

Grace’s mouth dropped open. “You want to practice your magic? Why?”

“I don’t want to, I need to. Amon’s life and my library depend on it. A wendigo is going to devour our town if we don’t stop it.”

“There you are,” Mom said, hovering above us. “You should see what’s going on at your greenhouse, Grace. A very dangerous demon is in town the Crow coven must contend with.”

Grace’s face turned white.

Mom waved her hand, sending a whirlwind of leaves around us.

Moments later, the whirlwind of Mom’s magic settled the three of us outside of Grace’s greenhouse. Exactly what I didn’t want to see was making its way toward us.

A wave of tiny jumping spiders came sprung out of the walls, each making a little ratta-tat-tat ! as they landed on the leaf litter outside.

“Nothing spooks my jumping spiders,” Grace said, horror ringing in her tone. She tore ahead of us, her mushroom hat flying off as she raced through the door. Mom and I followed, treading carefully as to not step on any of Grace’s frightened eight-legged familiars .

The greenhouse groaned as the enchantments used to keep the rickety wooden beams together shook. Something had obviously disrupted the magic Grace bewitched the faltering structure with.

A creature jumped onto my shoe, then up my leg, landing on my arm. A pair of shiny ink-drop eyes sparkled in the dim light as the eight-legged creature began to dance atop my arm.

I scrambled backward, my butt knocking into one of the raised garden beds. My back slammed into something woody and solid.

“Grace, since when have you been growing trees in your greenhouse?” Mom asked as she walked to my side.

Grace’s brow knitted as she squinted past me. “Well, this definitely wasn’t here when I left a week ago.”

I staggered to my feet, turning to find the tree my Mom and sister were ogling. I recognized the slick texture of the ebony bark—the same hollowness I’d seen moving behind Amon’s eyes.

I stopped next to my sister. The tree of shadows was sprouting right out of Grace’s compost pile where the two of us had performed one of her green magic rituals. “When did this start sprouting?”

Grace’s mouth opened and closed. “There was a tiny sprout in the dirt this morning when I arrived home. I never imagined it would grow this much in just a few hours.”

Branches twisted like vines as the tree spiraled up out of the ground.

“The screaming death beans come from shadow trees ?” I clarified.

“I guess so. I’ve studied species of medicinal spirit plants for a long time, but never have I seen one actually grow. They are able to connect the physical world and the worlds of the paranormal. ”

I squinted at the tree’s gnarled roots. Symbols decorated them—the same symbols I’d seen in Amon’s tattoos when we visited the shadow archives—the place where he’d encouraged me to read them. I still didn’t know what they meant. The symbols morphed between serpents and feathers, eventually turning into bulging mushrooms.

The trunk made a nasty cracking sound, sending wood splinters flying into the air.

“How do we stop this thing from growing?” Grace asked, backing away from the dangerous bark.

I stared at the gnarled wood of the tree where the symbols were fast appearing. I needed to figure out how to read them and reverse this rebellious magic.

One of the branches snapped through one of the ceiling panels, shattering the glass.

“Well hello there, Lucy Crow,” A female voice sounded from behind the tree.

I turned, facing the woman who had manifested beside the trunk. Her hair curled unnaturally at her sides, branching out like vines.

“I know what she is,” Grace growled. “Get out of my greenhouse, you nasty green vampire!”

Melrose’s lips curled, widening her thin mouth. “I’m not here for your nasty little beans, my dear. I want your older sister to help me seal a demon away in the stomach of a wendigo for good.”

Grace’s magic burned from her fingertips, making the stems and leaves on some of her plants tendril. Even a few mushrooms bowed their bulbous heads, straightening as little puffs of spores issued from their caps. “You’re not stealing my sister’s magic, you witchy bitch!”

The mushrooms unleashed a plume of spores that quickly condensed into a cloud nobody with allergies would want to mess with. The sight brought back so many memories. I remembered watching Grace summon spores when we were kids, after some other child tried to steal her shovel and pail from the sandbox.

Melrose dipped behind the tree, vines following her cackling cries. “Mushrooms are no match for vines my dear!”

But Grace had other tricks up her sleeves that involved her eight-legged familiars. They huddled together by the cactus, their shiny ink-drop eyes catching daylight streaming through the shattered windows.

While Grace had Melrose preoccupied, I darted for the compost pile, where Mom was busy sorting through banana peels and other decomposing organic objects.

“Oh, deary me. What will the Crow sisters do when their magic has all been absorbed by the shadow tree?” Melrose cackled as she thrust her arms out, coiling her wrists as she chanted an incantation, “From the earth, the sky, and the wind. Shadows from beyond, I ask that you—”

Screeeeech !

Melrose was knocked backward, her hair catching in the branches of the tree.

Victoria’s red tailed hawk swooped down through the ceiling, gripping the vines and ripping them to shreds .

Victoria emerged in the greenhouse, a nasty scowl upon her face. “You all decided to light up your magic without inviting me to the party?”

Another spirit emerged from the tree—a young boy. He climbed down from one of the branches, landing onto the ground. He was dressed in clothing that didn’t seem like it was from this time.

“Stop that stupid bird!” Melrose shrieked as Francine swooped overhead. The hawk’s wings clipped the ceiling as she maneuvered and dove once again for Melrose.

Melrose jumped, landing in a pile of dirt, sending a plume of soil into the air.

This boy held something in his hands.

My stomach hollowed as he unfolded his fingers. “Grubs?”