“Thank you for protecting these things,” I tell Theresa, my voice hollow with shock. Ignoring Gwen’s peals of panic, I pull out my phone and slip a card from the back of my phone case. “I’m incredibly grateful that you did the right thing. I know it wasn’t easy, and I know what it’ll cost you,” I tell her as I hand her my card. “Call me in a couple of days, and I’ll help you find a better job.”
“Thank you, sorceress, you are very kind. I’m so sorry that you were dishonored at the start of your reign. May those who stand against the rightful Osteomancer crumble like pillars of dust,” she declares, reaching up and forming the sign of the cross on my forehead.
Surprise flickers through me like a sputtering candle, and I’m taken aback by her respectful greeting and unexpected knowledge of what’s happening. I thought she was just a maid, but as she offers me her regard, I can feel that there’s so much more there. Magic is wrapped around her like armor, and I can sense that it belonged to my Grammy Ruby. I can feel her blessing all over this woman. The distinct sense that she guided her here, for this moment, washes through me. I stare at Theresa, floored by what I suddenly know about her. She’s from a line of coven disciples. I didn’t even know they existed anymore, but I can feel Theresa’s unwavering devotion to whomever the bones find worthy.
I’m flabbergasted by my grandmother’s foresight, and shocked to know that devotees of magic still exist. I stare into Theresa’s adoring brown eyes, and it’s as though I can feel my Grammy’s love and the plans she laid out for me. I know in this moment, without a shadow of doubt, that she knew it would be me all along. She set things in motion to help me, and I can only wonder what else she foresaw that I’d be up against.
I look over at Rogan, quizzically. Did Grammy Ruby connect us on purpose too? Did she know what was happening to the other Osteomancers? Is there more to all of this that I have yet to see?
I focus back on Theresa as she steps away to leave. I’m not sure what exactly comes over me then. A warmth breezes around me like it’s a summer day, and heat caresses slowly down my spine. I’m hit by a similar feeling that percolated through me when I knew I needed to help Rogan. A calm and clearness sharpens my mind, and I know instinctively exactly what I need to do. I reach out to Theresa and rest my hand on her upper arm. Awe sparks in her gaze, and she holds her breath as I start to speak.
“May your line walk with the honor and steadfastness that you showed here today. And as long as they do, the magic of this line will guide and protect them from their first breath to their last. May this blessing and promise be woven into your very bones, and with it, feel my unending gratitude and regard.”
Magic drips down her person from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. It’s colorless, but palpable. A captivating shimmer that sparkles all around her as I stare reverently at the magic-laced blessing that moves to cloak her. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’m completely floored by just how beautiful and utterly powerful it is.
Theresa’s eyes fill with watery gratitude, and a wonderstruck smile spreads across her face. I look down at my hands, astonished. Did I really just do all that?
“I’m honored, sorceress, beyond honored. If you ever need anything, anything at all, please call on any Palliano. That’s my family name, and my line will serve you like we’ve served all the Osteomancers that came before.”
“Thank you,” I offer and then cringe as Gwen’s screaming reaches a whole new pitch.
Theresa leaves without another word, and I’m yanked from the calm of our exchange back into the harsh reality of screams and shrill demands to fix my aunt. I turn back to Magda and Gwen, who is now ruddy and splotchy from her efforts to de-statue her mother.
“Lennox, let her go!” Gwen shrieks once again, pulling at her mother’s extended hand. Magda’s face is frozen with malicious intent, her narrowed eyes and venomous grimace are the perfect encapsulation of the kind of person she is.
“Stop yanking on her like that, or you’re going to break something,” I warn Gwen as I open the camera on my phone and snap a couple of pictures of my aunt in all her heinous glory. This year’s family Christmas card is going to be epic.
“Fuck you, bitch. If you think you’re going to get away with this…” Gwen pulls on her mother again like she thinks there’s a hidden lever that will release her, only this time when she does, a resounding crack fills the air, and Magda’s arm from the middle of her forearm down, hangs at an angle.
“Oh shit,” Rogan mutters, horrified, his fist in front of his mouth like it will trap the shock from spilling out.
“Oh god!” Gwen wails when she realizes what she’s done.
I cringe and shake my head. I did tell her to stop doing that.
“You broke her!” Gwen yowls, her gaze murderous.
“Technically, you did that,” I retort, pointing at my aunt and drawing an air circle around the broken arm she just acquired.
“Let her go right now!” she screams, sounding more like a whistling teapot than a human.
“That might be a bad idea…” I start, but Gwen cuts me off with a scream.
“Now!”
I release a resigned sigh. Fine, if she doesn’t want to listen, that’s on her. With a flick of my hand, I free Magda from the magic holding her in place. An agonized wail rips through the battered foyer, and she crumples to the ground, cradling her broken arm. Gwen drops with her, reaching for her injured hand.
“You stupid idiot,” Magda snarls at Gwen, pulling her hand out of her daughter’s reach. She looks up at me, pain and rage alight in her gaze. “Fix this,” she orders, holding her arm up to me, the break now hanging at a complete right angle. “Fix this, or so help me I’ll make sure those bones don’t stay yours for long.”
“Are you threatening her...again?” Rogan asks smoothly, stepping past me and moving his body just in front of mine in an oddly protective way.
“She broke my arm!” Magda accuses, her scream rivaling that of a feral pig.
“She did nothing other than stop you from assaulting someone. Your obstinate and careless daughter did that to you.”
Gwen’s face scrunches in outrage, but Magda cuts off whatever vitriol she’s about to spew at Rogan. Bet she’s regretting all that drool she left on the floor when she first laid eyes on him. Must be a talent of his.
“You bring some Lesser into my home, attack me and my daughter, and now you let him talk to your blood like that?” she demands, and I snort out a laugh.
“Oh, we’re blood now?” I ask, feigning shock. I could point out that Rogan is no more Lesser than I am, but it doesn’t matter. She’s either trying to offend him by using the slang witches use for those without magic or she’s too dense to realize what he is. Either way, dealing with Magda is a waste of time. I got what I came here for, and I’m over being near such vile people. I’ll need to cleanse myself and probably burn these clothes just to get rid of their evil eye and shitty vibes.
“Let’s go.”
Rogan nods and turns to leave. Hoot is completely passed out in his arms, like everything that just happened is the perfect napping soundtrack. The sight makes me smile. Such a weird ass dog. At least the butt trumpeting has stopped for the time being.