This Wicked Fate (This Poison Heart #2)(31)

“Circe gave me a rundown of what happened last night.” She didn’t look up as she spoke. “I don’t even understand half of what she was talking about, but she’s concerned.”

“It was—a lot,” I said.

“Your auntie Leti called. I let it go to voice mail, but she’ll call back. She’s been calling your mama’s phone every few hours.”

“What are we gonna do?”

“We have to tell her something. Her and Mom are so close. If we keep avoiding her, she might pop up on us. Your granny, too, and I can’t deal with her right now.”

I pictured my auntie and grandma showing up on the front step. I couldn’t blame them if they did, but that’s the last thing we needed. We’d have to come up with a convincing lie, but the harder thing to think about was what we’d have to tell them if we couldn’t get Mom back. I pushed that awful thought out of my head.

“I’ll figure something out,” Mo said. When she looked me over, she smiled. “I guess I should probably get myself together, huh?”

I sat next to her and put my head on her shoulder. “A shower helps a little. And I know you like to keep things all natural, but maybe shave your pits? Looks like you got a German shepherd in a headlock.”

“Not the look I was goin’ for,” she said. She was so completely worn down, and it put an ache in my chest.

I wrapped my arms around her, and we sat together in the quiet as the plants sitting on the hearth outgrew their pots and crawled their way over to me. Mo held out her hand and I willed the vining plants to braid a few of their curled tendrils together. They encircled her wrist then gently broke off, leaving her with a bracelet of folded leaves.

A chorus of angry voices carried up from downstairs.

Mo sighed. “They were arguing while you were in the shower. There’s something they’re not telling us, but I don’t know exactly what it is.” She twisted her locs up on top of her head and massaged her neck. “And I gotta be honest, love. I keep asking myself if this is all some god-awful nightmare. I’ve seen so many things, and it’s all a little—I don’t know—unbelievable?”

“I get it,” I said, leaning against her shoulder. “Even with this power—” I pointed to the plants vining their way up my leg. “The stuff I’m finding out is even more unreal.”

“Who you telling?” Mo huffed. “Everybody’s some kind of immortal? The Heart?” She took a deep halting breath. “It feels like too much.”

“I just want Mom back,” I said. “Nothing else matters. I don’t care what we have to do or what we have to believe.”

Mo nodded and kissed the top of my head.

More angry voices cut through the air, and I went to the bedroom door to try to pull it open without making a bunch of noise. The hinges screamed and immediately silenced the heated conversation going on below. I sighed and glanced back at Mo.

“Love,” Mo said. “You did see a giant winged creature sitting in the driveway yesterday, right? It wasn’t just me?”

“His name’s Roscoe,” I said.

Mo’s eyebrow arched up. “Um, what?”

“Yeah. I’m just gonna go with it.”

“Right,” Mo said, a vacant expression on her face. “I’m gonna shower. Love you.”

“Love you more.”

I went out and closed the door behind me. As I went down the stairs and into the front room, Marie and Persephone were sitting across the table from each other. If looks could kill, somebody would’ve been dead. The look of absolute rage plastered across both their faces made me a little wary of being in the same room as them.

Circe came in behind me. “You’re up. How you feeling?”

“I’m okay. Were you guys fighting?” I asked.

“No,” Persephone said.

“Yes,” Marie shot back.

“I need to talk to Briseis and you two should take it outside or something,” Circe said. She wasn’t even trying to hide the annoyance in her tone. She turned to me. “Would you come with me for a minute. There’s something I’d like to show you.”

Marie and Persephone got up and headed to the front door while I trailed Circe to the apothecary. The broken floorboards had been put back in their places. The vines and branches were cut back as much as possible, but an entire black locust tree had come up through the floor and looked like it might be a permanent fixture now. Pendant clusters of dense white blooms hung between the blue-green leaves. The scattered apothecary jars had been set back on the mended shelves, the ladder fixed and put on its track.

“Persephone is exceptionally handy,” Circe said. “We can worry about restocking another time. The main thing I wanted to talk to you about was …” She trailed off, running her hand over her mouth, and chewing at her bottom lip. “Ever since I got back I feel like all we’ve been talking about is how heavy the burden of guarding the Heart is—how much has been lost because of it.”

“I mean, it’s true,” I said.

“But taking care of the Heart isn’t the only thing my mother passed down to me,” Circe said. “She’s been gone since I was a teenager but she taught me and Selene so much about these gifts, and well, it’s probably easier to just show you.” She picked up a large rectangular case with a handle on top and set it on the counter. It was closed by two silver locks and had the Colchis family crest—the image of the triple-faced Hecate, her torches, the crown of poison thorns—carved into its face. “If we make this journey, as I fully expect we will, we will need supplies.”