Page 37

“I’ll be right back. Nia stay.”

She remained alert but did as I said. I climbed out of bed, yanked on my robe, and padded downstairs. The rest of the house was silent. I crept past Else’s room, past the kitchen to the back door, and pulled the curtain aside. I couldn’t see anything, no heavy branches broken off laying in the yard, and I was sure that’s what I heard.

Shit. I spotted the new seedlings Mom and Art had planted earlier. They’d left them out on a table in the afternoon sun. They were covered, but this wind might blow the seed trays onto the ground.

I unlocked the door, tugged my robe around myself tighter, and slipped out. One of the trays had already tipped over. I slid them off the table and put them underneath, out of the wind that whipped my hair around my face, the rain stinging my skin.

I rushed for the door.

Another crack echoed through the night, making me jump. It was coming from the cemetery. Then another, louder this time, followed by a crash so loud I was surprised the ground didn’t shake. What the hell was that?

A tingling sensation danced across my thigh, right over the markings the mother had made under my skin with her venom.

My heart exploded in my chest. Whatever had caused that noise had something to do with my task.

I raced around the side of the house and down the tree-lined path that stretched from our yard to the cemetery behind it. I didn’t get far, though, because a massive tree, an ancient oak just outside the ward surrounding the cemetery, had blown over. Pulled from the ground like a giant had yanked it from the earth and tossed it on its side. It lay right across the path, its huge, twisted roots sticking up, exposing a massive hole where the tree had once been anchored.

Lightning cracked, forking across the sky, lighting up the shadowed path beyond it. I looked into the large hole.

Something was down there.

I stood at the edge as thunder rolled above me. I couldn’t get a good look. Gripping one of the massive roots, I wriggled through the twisted mass and eased my way down. My feet sank into the soft soil, and when I took another step, something hard pressed against my bare foot. I dropped to my knees and brushed away as much dirt as I could.

A box.

I kept digging. The top was polished metal of some kind, but it was too dark to see what it was clearly. I found the rim with my fingers, and with a groan, shoved it open. Another flash of lightning lit up the sky—

I froze.

Oh goddess.

Bones.

No, not just bones, an entire skeleton. This wasn’t a traditional coffin, it was too short for that, and whoever this was had been curled up inside, forced to fit.

I scrambled back out, stumbling.

Who the hell was that, and what were they doing here? I searched the shadows frantically, as if whoever had put this body here could be watching me now, when I knew that had to be impossible. These bones were old. Seriously old. This was my task? What the hell was I supposed to do with this?

I was going to hyperventilate.

Pull it together. I didn’t have time to freak out, I needed to move the box before anyone in my family saw it. If they did, they’d have theories, questions, their first instinct would be to help, and they couldn’t do that. I ran back to the house, grabbed a shovel and one of Mom’s garden trollies that she used to cart plants around, and rushed back to the hole.

The wind had grown more intense; the rain was icy now and coming down heavier. My robe was drenched and plastered to me, my hair stuck to my neck and the sides of my face.

My teeth chattered as I climbed back into the hole, slipping in the dirt that had now turned to mud. I started digging, dragging the muddy soil away from the edges of the box to try to lift it out. When I finally cleared the dirt from around it, I started to pull.

My fingers were numb, and the rain was like icy needles against my skin. I heaved, but the box was too heavy for me to get out alone.

I grunted and pulled harder. It slid a little farther, but there was no way I was lifting it out of this hole and onto the cart.

There was movement beside me, and I spun around.

A large orange fox sat several feet away.

A fox I would know anywhere.

“Ren!” Tears immediately sprang to my eyes. I hadn’t seen him for a whole year. None of us had. During Willow’s task, he’d been possessed by an evil spirit and forced to do things that would make even the toughest warrior shudder in horror. Now Ren lived in the woods, preferring his animal form. The fact he was still breathing after what happened to him twelve months ago was a miracle.