“Stop,” he yelled. “Stop.”
“You can speak, can’t you?”
“Stop, you filthy creature.”
“Where’s my friend? Did the lieutenant take him?”
“No,” he shouted.
I raised my claw about to scratch the dash.
“Stop. I don’t know where your friend is.”
And then I realized Mr. Tangledwood was a spy. “Tell me about the lieutenant,” I commanded as I gently rubbed my claw along the dashboard.
“The lieutenant is gathering an army. He’s going to destroy you and all the other filthy witches.”
“You have been spying for him, haven’t you?”
“He promised me I could stay on my estate and live here forever. I want no part of the war that’s coming. I want to be left alone.”
I could see he was a worthless creature. He had no fight in this battle. He took no side other than his own. I ran onto the front lawn. It would be dark soon, another night with no Pixel. The end of another day without Pixel. I could feel he was still alive. I could smell his aura. It seemed close. I lay on my back, staring up at the clouds, imitating Pixel rolling back and forth, thinking of the simplicity of his happiness. The little things that gave him joy. Anger rose inside me. The thought of any harm coming to him made me want to do harm. I closed my eyes and called out to him. Then I felt something land on my belly. I opened my eyes to see the purple-and-white butterfly that had followed Pixel around. Pixel’s friend, Flutter, as he named her. She flew and circled me. I followed her back to the estate, back inside the grand hall with its marble floor and high ceiling. She floated into the library, landing on a book. It was Emma’s favorite book, the first edition of a collection of writings by Frederick Law Olmsted. I reached up to look at it. As I pulled it down, a wall of books opened up, revealing a secret room. An orange blur leaped out on top of me.
“Hungry. Me so hungry,” he said, biting my neck.
“Pixel?”
“Terra me eat first.”
The french doors leading into the library slammed shut. Charlotte stared down at us.
“You know, don’t you? You can tell the others.” She grabbed the fireplace poker, lifting it over her head. I was in shock, unable to move. Before it crushed my skull, Pixel leaped, pushing me out of the way. The poker landed its blow across his back. I regained my senses and leaped onto her, clawing at her neck and face. She screamed. The doors burst open.
Mrs. Twiggs screamed, “Terra, what are you doing?” She saw Pixel broken and bloody on the floor and looked at Charlotte, poker still in her hand. Mrs. Twiggs raised her palms and cast a spell. The poker fell from Charlotte’s hand, and she stood frozen in time. Mrs. Twiggs knelt next to Pixel, listening for his heartbeat. “It’s very faint, Terra.”
Abigail ran into the room, not understanding what she was seeing. She knelt down beside Pixel, sobs coming. Mrs. Twiggs lifted his limp body. As we drove to the animal hospital, Abigail incited every healing spell she had learned. Nothing was working. Pixel remained still, unmoving. He was too far gone. Abigail had once saved Tracker from near death, but this was different. This was sudden and fatal. My tears merged with Abigail’s. Pixel’s aura was a shadow. He was leaving this world. I could see him struggling to open his eyes. My heart wrenched from my body. I screamed out. He had given his life for mine. We reached the animal hospital where the technicians rushed him to surgery. Already the other ladies were arriving. They stood vigil in the waiting room, each one praying to their ancestors and to the true and only one Goddess. They held hands in their circle, but the powerful magic was not there. I realized then it wasn’t Charlotte that completed the circuitry of the coven, it was Pixel. She had been holding Pixel. He was the conduit. Something or someone had gifted the magic to Pixel. I prayed that magic would see him through now. I noticed a bloodhound in the waiting room with no master, collar, or leash.
“Mrs. Lund,” I whispered.
She nodded her head with long droopy ears flopping to and fro.
We walked outside. “Terra, they are gathering. All the dark souls are rallying around the lieutenant with the promise that he will lead them into the portal. All the lost souls that haunt the Poinsett Bridge are waiting to join him.”
“I can’t leave Pixel. I can’t.”
“The only way to save him is for you to enter the portal.”
We waited out the night. In the morning the doctor joined us in the waiting room.
“My name is Dr. Courtney,” he said to Mrs. Twiggs. “Your cat is very…”
“Pixel, his name is Pixel.” Mrs. Twiggs interrupted.
“Yes, of course, Pixel, he has a broken spine. I did what I could. The next twenty-four hours are critical. If he does recover, he’ll never walk again.”
Mrs. Twiggs cried into her handkerchief. Abigail put her arm around her.
“I’m so sorry. We have to wait and see,” Dr. Courtney said before heading back the way he had come.
Mrs. Lund stared at me.
“Mrs. Twiggs, Abigail, we have to get back to the estate,” I said. The ladies promised to remain with Pixel as the three of us headed back to the Tangledwood Estate.
The sun crashed through the stained-glass window of the library, engulfing Charlotte in its cranberry-red glow. She stood frozen as we had left her. The secret passageway door was ajar. The sliver of the light from the windows illuminated the missing painting. We entered gazing at the treasures there, Emma Tangledwood’s stolen treasures. Mrs. Twiggs walked up to Charlotte and waved her hands. She collapsed, shaking her head.
“Who are you?” Mrs. Twiggs asked.
Before Charlotte could spew her lies, Mrs. Twiggs slid her finger across her lips. She screamed as they burned bright red. “My name is Morgan Andrews.”
“Why did you pretend to be Charlotte Tangledwood?”
“I…” She began to stutter; her lips burned bright red.
“You can’t lie.”
“Stop, please. Miss Hartwell came to me at the Swannanoa Correctional Center for women. She was a nurse there before she came to work for Mrs. Tangledwood. She showed me a picture of a young girl, Charlotte. She said I looked like her. That I could make a lot of money pretending I was her.”
“Why did you kill her?”
She tried keeping her lips shut, but they flew open. “She said I would inherit this mansion and all Mrs. Tangledwood’s money. When we found out that all of it was going to the Biltmore Foundation except for that stupid painting, I told her I wanted a share of everything she had stolen. She had been taking things from the old woman for years, hiding it away. When she refused, I said I would tell the police. That night we got in an argument. She had a knife. She said she would kill me if I said anything. I grabbed the poker. I-I… It was self-defense. I didn’t mean to kill her.”
“And you hid the painting so you could blame Mr. White?”
“He was obsessed with the painting. He kept calling and texting me,” she said.
“You made it look like he broke in?”
She struggled to open her lips and then said, “Yes, I panicked. I was afraid. I didn’t want to go back to the prison. I saw Miss Hartwell sneaking stuff into that room. I saw her pull on that book. After I killed her, I hid the painting in there. Pixel saw me and followed me in.”
Mrs. Twiggs touched Morgan on the shoulder, and she collapsed. Detective Willows was the first to arrive. Mrs. Twiggs sat across from him, sipping tea, filling him in on the whole story.