I felt hopeless and sat with the others while we watched over Abigail. We each took shifts throughout the night. I held little hope for the dawn. I glanced around at all the ladies, seeing the sadness in their eyes. What a fraud I am, they must think. If I can’t save Abigail, how can I save any of them? I am just a cat. I went out into the alley. This was my life. There was no hope of ever finding Elizabeth, of ever becoming my true self again. My only link to my past a powerless golden amulet from the woman who cursed me to this life and cursed her daughter to be trapped between worlds. This alley is my home, my final destination. I settled down by the dumpster and let sleep take me. In the morning, I would leave this town forever.
With a rush, I was startled awake. I felt myself being lifted off the ground and thrown in a sack. I scratched and hissed to no avail. I was thrown down and could hear the clank of a car trunk closing. I banged, knocking against the sack and the hard metal of my transport. The car hit a bump and I banged my head inside the trunk. I saw stars and then the dark took me.
I awoke. I was still trapped in this canvas sack. I clawed and bit at it. My captor tied the bag closed, sealing me off from the light. I could smell the sulfur from the match strike and then the smoke from the fire. It was the true death I had escaped over 300 years ago.
“No,” I heard a scream and then I felt myself lifted out of the fire. The bag opened. Abigail was standing over me, holding a bloody silver knife. I gasped for air, my eyes were burning from the smoke. Ashes and sparks flew into the night as Abigail picked me up. “Terra, are you OK? Your fur is singed.”
“Abigail, how, how are you here?”
She pulled the amulet out from under her blouse. “My grandmother, Claire, came to me in a vision. She told me how to find you, Terra. She told me I’m a witch. The reckoning took my mother, Isabellla, and my father. Only I was saved. This tattoo.” She paused. “My father used to call my mother Tinkerbell. I never knew why I was so drawn to the fairy.”
I gazed behind Abigail. Claire Renee glided up. She had taken the form of her former body, a beautiful woman who looked like Elizabeth who looked like Abigail. She smiled. “Now that Abigail has the amulet, my light is released,” Claire said. “Keep my granddaughter safe, Terra Rowan.”
“Claire, what is the reckoning?” I asked.
“There is great magic here--black and white. I came to destroy one and preserve the other but the black magic was too strong. If you can’t control it, it will control you.” Then she rose into the sky and disappeared into a burst of white light.
“I wounded it. I know I did. I looked right at it but I couldn’t see it, Terra,” Abigail said.
All Hallow’s Eve
Mrs. Twiggs called a meeting of the ladies of the Biltmore Society. I needed for them to understand the peril they were in and the circumstances that brought them to it. “Servants of the reckoning killed Lionel and Bryson and almost killed me,” I said.
“Today is Abigail’s 18th birthday, her wanding day,” Mrs. Twiggs said. “The only chance we have to protect ourselves is for Abigail to turn. She must find her wanding tree. For that reason, I believe we were all brought together. Somewhere here in the Biltmore Forest is her spirit oak.”
Mrs. Bowers stood up. “You told us we needed to be a coven of nine, a closed coven. There are only eight of us left. I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.”
“We’re still a coven. We’re still a family. We will watch over each other and use our special powers to fight the reckoning,” Mrs. Twiggs said.
I walked over to where Abigail was sitting. “Do you feel better? Your fever’s broken,” I whispered so only Abigail could hear. “It’s up to you. You have the Oakhaven bloodline. Only you can save them, save all of us. Even a closed coven of nine could not protect us. We need you.”
Abigail squirmed in her chair. “I don’t want this, Terra. I don’t want this responsibility.”
“Your great-grandmother was a very powerful witch. Perhaps as powerful as the old ones. You can do this, Abigail. I will help you.”
Abigail smiled. “How do we find my spirit tree?”
Tracker jumped from the front window where he was keeping watch and sat in front of Abigail. Then he let out a bloodcurdling howl. The ladies held their ears. “This is how we’ll find your tree, Abigail. Abigail, hold our your hand.” As she did, I extended my paw and pricked her finger.
“Ouch, what are you doing, Terra?”
I grabbed her hand and put her finger under Tracker’s nose. He breathed the scent in, the scent of old blood and old magic. He howled and ran to the front door. Abigail and Mrs. Twiggs grabbed their coats and some flashlights. I turned to the ladies. “Tonight on All Hollow’s Eve, the veil between worlds will be lifted. Leave all the lights on. Put candles in the windows. Lock the door behind us. No matter what happens do not leave this room. Stay in your circle and concentrate all your powers. Concentrate on Abigail’s fate. Let your spirits follow us into the woods.”
We jumped into Mrs. Twiggs’ Volvo. Pixel, Tracker and I sat in the back. Tracker paced back and forth, whining. He had the scent. He stuck his head out the window and let out a low moan. “Terra, how do you know the tree is in Biltmore Forest and not a hundred miles from here?” Abigail asked from the front seat.
“It was something that your grandmother said to me in the museum. She said she was drawn to Asheville and to the woods. Something in her bloodline drew her to this spot. That same magic brought you here. I’ve never seen any spirit tree draw a witch as powerful as this beacon has brought you. It must be very old.”
“Olmsted brought oak saplings from Ireland,” Mrs. Twiggs interrupted. “Mr. Vanderbilt believed they were descendants of the Druid’s oak orchards.”
“The Wiccans of the Biltmore Society settled in a coven circle surrounding this forest. The tree is here,” I said.
“This whole forest was built on mysticism,” Mrs. Twiggs said.
Tracker stuck his head out the window and howled. Mrs. Twiggs slammed on the brakes. I flew forward. Pixel tumbled to the floor. We stopped at the guard shack of the entrance to the Biltmore Estate. “Terra, it’s almost 11,” Mrs. Twiggs yelled. Mrs. Twiggs drove through the secret gate on the side and wound around the forest road, her headlights barely illuminating the path in front of us.
“Abigail, we have to find the tree before the New Year. It must be on your 18th birthday.”
Mrs. Twiggs turned the engine off. As she opened the back door, Tracker flew out and disappeared into the woods, Abigail called after him. “Follow him,” I said. We ran in front of the humans, Pixel faster than I. We could see Tracker, a flash of red and white, in the dark, slaloming through the trees. He stopped in an orchard of bamboos. Pixel ran to him. I followed. Pixel turned, panting. “Tracker, something wrong. Tracker, not good.”
Tracker fell to the ground on his side, his back legs trembling. I looked up the towering bamboo trees to see hundreds of crows perched on top of the great stalks. I smelled the air, a wicked wind whistled through the branches. The dark magic was stirring. The reckoning was near. Pixel nuzzled Tracker. “Tracker, get up. Tracker.”
I saw flashlights dance behind us. I called out, “Mrs. Twiggs. Abigail.” They ran toward my screams. Abigail sat on the ground and put Tracker in her lap, rocking him. She looked up with tears in her eyes. “What’s happening, Terra? What’s wrong with him?”