The Price Guide to the Occult(40)

Nor’s eyes fell on Sena Crowe’s knife, still lodged in the vine. Nor tugged it free, then started swinging. She hacked at the thick stalk wrapped around her arm until it finally stiffened and dropped to the table, a withered husk. Fern had stopped laughing.

Pike and Sena Crow recovered their breath and gasped. Apothia opened her eyes and coughed. Judd, no longer under Fern’s control, rushed to her side, but Apothia waved her off, then poured herself a cup of tea with trembling hands. Catriona gaped at the shriveled fern.

Fern stretched her arms over her head in an attempt at nonchalance, but her anger was palpable, a bloated behemoth that she couldn’t hide from Nor. It was in the clench of her jaw, the pulsing vein in her forehead, the bloodied half-moons she’d gouged into her own arms.

She stared at Nor and the dead vine, then silently stormed out of the Tower. Catriona stumbled in her haste to follow.

As soon as the door closed, Nor sank back into her chair. Her hands were shaking.

Judd pointed at Sena Crowe and Pike, both battered and bloodied. “Go,” she said, coughing. “Make sure she isn’t coming back.”

Sena Crowe and Pike both nodded and quickly disappeared through the front door.

Judd sat down next to Nor and examined her injuries. She ran her calloused palm against the abrasions on Nor’s collarbone and the scratches on the side of her face. The wounds started to heal, and so much steam was in the air that Nor could barely see Judd’s face.

Judd then pulled Nor’s foot into her lap and probed the deep gash. Nor winced. A viscous substance overflowed Judd’s palms and spilled onto the floor.

“Now,” she said, wiping her hands on her jeans, “lemme see about that last bit.” Nor’s arms looked as if they’d been wrapped in barbed wire. When Judd pulled her hands away, long quills came with them.

“That was a mighty stupid thing to do, girlie,” Judd said to Nor when she was finished. “If Fern was, as she said, here to see you, then you certainly gave her something worth seeing. In fact, I can bet that you’ve piqued her interest now.”

“What do you mean?” Nor examined her foot. No blood, no cut, no scar.

“You ruined her fun,” Judd said. “And you fought back. You fought her off.” She eyed Nor with interest. “Not many can do that.”

“It’s possible that she regards you as a threat now, dear,” Apothia added.

“A threat?” Nor balked. “I’m not a threat!”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that,” Judd replied. Nor shifted uncomfortably under her grandmother’s gaze.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Judd asked.

Nor quickly shook her head.

“So we’re just chalking it up to dumb luck, then? Fine.” Judd grunted. “If that’s the case, as soon as Pike and Sena Crowe return, I’m having them haul your ass up to the Coldwater place before that luck runs out.”

“If Fern returns —” Nor started.

“If Fern returns, then I guess we’ll just have to hope that dumb luck of yours rubs off on the rest of us.”

“Why don’t you go pack up a few things?” Apothia said, gently pushing Nor toward the stairs. “Maybe take a shower while you’re at it.”

Nor reached up to touch the gash on Apothia’s cheek. How much worse might it have gotten had Nor not reached for that blade?

“You should ask Judd to heal this for you,” she said, but when she took her hand away, the wound was gone, and her own fingers were covered in glossy strands like spun sugar. Apothia raised her hand to her healed cheek, but didn’t say a word.

Bijou followed Nor into the bathroom. Nor shut and locked the door, and Bijou curled up against the heating vent in the wall. Years ago, Astrid, the fifth daughter, had paneled these walls with cedar, but the room had long ago lost that clean and woodsy scent. Now it had a musty odor that clung to the towels and to Bijou’s fur when he spent too much time sleeping against the vent.

Nor peeled off her torn clothes, tossed them into a corner, and stepped into the shower. She washed her hair twice, combing out the burrs with her fingers. She sank to the bottom. The scalding water poured over her and rinsed all the blood and grime down the drain.

She got out and wiped the fog from the mirror. Her skin was red and blotchy from the hot water. Her hair dripped down her back.

“What did you do?” she muttered at her reflection. She could feel her magic still pulsing under her skin like a heartbeat. Her hands shook with the power of it. What would happen if her mother returned? Could she fight her off again? Nor wasn’t sure. Was she strong enough to carry all these Burdens on her own?

Or would they swallow her whole?

In her bedroom, Nor stuffed some clothes into a duffel bag. After hearing someone on the staircase — probably Pike or maybe Sena Crowe — she quickly slipped on a pair of jeans and put an old army jacket on over her damp skin. She grabbed her phone — dead, of course — and her necklace with the crow’s claw off the top of the dresser, scooped up Bijou, and clomped down the stairs in her combat boots.

Sena Crowe was waiting for her in the stairwell at the second floor. Without a word, he reached out and took the duffel bag from her shoulders. “You good?” he asked. She nodded. They both knew she was lying.

Judd was sitting in a chair by the window, smoking her pipe. Nor needed her grandmother to be formidable and fearsome. She needed the Giantess, not this worn-down woman staring out the window.