“June, I asked you to stay because we need to talk about Mrs. Lund,” Mrs. Twiggs said.
“Beatrice, I told you everything I knew. She contacted me about the colonel and told me she had additional information about him and his regiment.” Mrs. Loblolly paused. “I feel horrible. I told you I feel responsible. She came here because of me and died by my great-grandfather’s sword.”
Mrs. Twiggs put her arm around Mrs. Loblolly. “It’s not your fault. She lied to you. She misrepresented who she was.”
“But I donated the sword. I demanded that they pose the mannequin to appear as if he was charging into battle. How selfish of me. How careless. That sword was as sharp as the day the colonel rode into battle. I had it cleaned and polished for the display. I even had to bring it to a special swordsmith because the blade is pure silver. It was his dress sword.”
“What?” I interrupted. “The blade was silver? Not just the hilt?”
“Yes, the colonel appreciated things of quality. His uniforms were custom made and fitted, the buttons are gold, and he ordered that sword special from a swordsmith in England.”
“What’s wrong, Terra?” Mrs. Twiggs asked.
“Silver through the heart is a true death to a witch.”
“Terra, are you saying Mrs. Lund was a witch?”
“There’s only one way to find out for sure. We have to see the body. If she was a witch and she died by silver, her body will age to its witch years. If I was killed by silver, all you’d see is bones and dust. We have to leave now before dark.”
“The mannequin holding the colonel’s sword was wearing a lieutenant’s uniform, not a colonel’s. If you spent so much money on restoring the sword, why not stage it with the colonel’s uniform?”
“That can’t be right. I donated the colonel’s uniform and was insistent that it be displayed with his sword.”
Pixel trotted by, his snowy belly flopping right and left along the floor of the cabin. He jumped into the windowsill as the sun was setting. He turned to us and solemnly said, “By the pricking of my thumb, something wicked this way comes.”
I leaped onto the windowsill next to him, staring into the distance. I felt it too. “Pixel, are you okay?” I whispered, nuzzling up to him.
“Me scared, Terra.” He put his paw around my neck and snuggled closer to me. I found his warmth comforting, his heartbeat next to mine soothing.
I thought about the stirrings in the wood. “Mrs. Twiggs, it’s late. I think we should rest tonight. Mrs. Lund isn’t going anywhere,” I said.
Chapter 25
The Vine that Killed the South
We darted outside as we heard the screams from the porch. Charlotte and Abigail were being dragged down the steps, their legs tied by a creeping green vine, pulling them toward the woods. The vine continued wrapping them into a cocoon until their screams were muffled. I heard Abigail gasping, trying to say incantations. Pixel and I jumped on the vine, gnawing and clawing at it. “Terra, nothing’s working,” Abigail said through strained breaths as the vine tightened around her.
Mrs. Twiggs flew down the stairs, brandishing a kitchen knife. She cut at the vines, but as quickly as she did, they grew back.
“Kudzu,” Mrs. Raintree yelled. “It’s the vine that killed the south. You can’t cut it. It grows back faster and stronger.”
It wrapped around Mrs. Twiggs’s legs. She cut at it feverishly, scraping her legs with the knife. Mrs. Loblolly and Mrs. Raintree pulled at the vines, trying to free Mrs. Twiggs. Mrs. Loblolly fell to the ground, and the vine wrapped around her throat. She tugged at it, gasping for air. Tracker barked and jumped around the vines, trying not to be entangled. His sharp bark pierced the still night. Abigail and Charlotte disappeared into the woods. I leaped from vine to vine until it wrapped around my paw and pulled me to the ground.
Pixel screamed. “No, Terra, no.”
“Pixel, run,” I yelled. “Save yourself.”
“No, Terra.” He jumped on the vine that wrapped around my legs, clawing and snapping at it. The vine reached for him, pulling me into the woods farther away from the cabin. Pixel stepped back, staring.
Through the tight green vine, I saw Mrs. Raintree jump on the cabin railing as the kudzu wrapped its way around the post, searching hungrily for her flesh. Pixel turned and ran up to the porch. He crawled up her leg until she picked him up and held him. “You fix.”
“What Pixel?”
“You fix now.”
She understood. The last thing I heard was Mrs. Raintree singing a Cherokee war dance song, the same one I had heard Agatha Hollows sing. The vine wrapped around my eyes, blinding me. I felt the air leaving me as my lungs collapsed. Elizabeth came to me. She was glowing white with silvery angel wings, her skin ethereal. She sat on the edge of Poinsett Bridge. She didn’t speak, motioning for me to come to her with open arms so she could embrace me. I gasped as my lungs filled with air again. The kudzu shriveled and fell off me. It took me a minute to capture my breath as I looked around. I was deep in the woods past the stream. I ran back to the cabin. Charlotte and Abigail were hugging Mrs. Twiggs. Pixel ran and tackled me. He licked my face and picked pieces of the dead vine off me. “Terra clean now,” he said.
Wanda Raintree is a steward of the earth like her goddess foremother, Elinhino. She has the power to nourish the soil, to feed the plants and the trees. Somehow Pixel knew she also had the ability to extract those nutrients, starving the kudzu to death. “Thank you, my friend. You saved us all, Pixel. How did you know she could do that?” I asked him.
“Me friend told me,” he said, running back into the cabin. I glanced around at the enchanted woods. How could the kudzu enter this sacred space? Only twice had the enchantment been broken. The last time was when the lieutenant came for Agatha Hollows.
Mrs. Twiggs bent down and picked me up. She looked at me. There was no terror in her eyes. I could hear her heartbeat slow and steady. She was at peace. “Terra, I think we should go see about Mrs. Lund now.” I agreed.
Chapter 26
RIP, Mrs. Lund
Mrs. Twiggs sped along the dirt road, descending Black Mountain. I sat in the passenger seat, my eyes darting back and forth. The trees crackled and closed behind our path, guarding the road to the cabin. I knew all would be safe there tonight. Mrs. Raintree blessed the trees that barred the way to the cabin. She had absorbed the magic left by Agatha Hollows. That magic combined with her bloodline from her Cherokee goddess mother increased her powers tenfold.
We reached the Asheville city morgue where Mrs. Lund was being held pending the autopsy and police investigation. I hoped the autopsy had not been performed yet, because if it had and she was a witch, they would have found that she was a two or three or maybe five-hundred-year-old skeleton.
Mrs. Twiggs politely knocked on the door. A young man wearing earbuds and a county morgue button-down shirt answered. “Yes, ma’am. What can I do for you?” he asked, removing one bud from one ear.
She smiled and blew a little dust from the palm of her hand over him. He returned her smile and let us in. Then he walked back to his office chair, put his legs up on the desk, and picked up a graphic novel. We found our way to the holding room with a wall of cold chambers. Mrs. Twiggs and I gave our respects to the dearly departed who stood around the room. We said a little prayer. “Terra, can’t we help these poor souls?” Mrs. Twiggs asked.
“They don’t know that they’ve passed yet. They’re still attached to their earthly vessel.”
Mrs. Twiggs raised her hands. “Gentle souls release yourselves from this earthly plain. Join your loved ones as I speak your name.” Mrs. Twiggs walked in front of each cold chamber, each one labeled with a name. As she called off each name, they thanked her and disappeared. Finally we came to Mrs. Lund’s chamber.