Selene Moonshadow's Arc

Chapter 8 of 9

The knock came again. The voice through the wood was Rowan's — the brownie who guarded the hidden cottage two ridges back, who could not be standing on this porch. Selene did not move to the door. She looked at Marcus. Marcus looked at the iron rod in his hand and set it down on the table. "If it's him, iron's rude," Marcus said. "If it isn't, iron's not enough. Test him first." Selene stepped closer to the door but did not touch it. She kept her voice level. "Rowan. You know the rule of your own house. Tell me what you charge to let someone inside." A pause. Then the voice, warm and easy. "Gold. A fair weight of it. Open the door, witch, I've run a long way." Marcus's jaw tightened. Selene closed her eyes for one breath. Rowan never took gold. Rowan took a favor, and he picked one the visitor would hate to give up. The thing on the porch had reached for the obvious answer. "Wrong," she said, quiet, to Marcus. To the door she said nothing. The voice changed. It dropped the warmth. "Selene. Open the door." She felt the cold reach through the wood. Her knees locked. Her hand would not lift. The shadow was on the other side of two inches of pine, wearing a friend's mouth, and her body was already forgetting how to move. Marcus saw it. He crossed to the table and shoved the two bowls of water in front of her. He set the ash line between them with one swipe of his thumb. He put the halves of the holed stone on the line and pressed the wand into her hand. "It's in the room," he said. "Close enough. Do the working." Her arm shook. Her mouth was dry. The wizard rose from his chair and stood behind her without a word. The door thumped. Once. The hinges groaned. Selene leaned over the first bowl. She said, "Sel—," and swept the wand across the ash line in one motion, elbow first, wrist following. The water in the first bowl went cold. Something thin peeled off the stone halves and dropped into the second bowl and curled there, pale as a shed skin. In the first bowl, under the wand, a shape moved. Not letters. A shape. The voice at the door cut off mid-word. The pressure against the hinges eased. Whatever had worn Rowan's face could not wear it anymore. Selene lifted the wand clear. She did not look into the first bowl yet. She corked the second and wrapped it in cloth. Her hands were steady now. "It's still out there," the wizard said. "You stripped the coat. You have not named what's under it." Marcus picked the iron rod back up. "Then we don't open the door." Selene set the first bowl on the table. The shape inside it turned once, slowly, and waited.