Raven Ridge (Witches of Sanctuary Book 2) (10 page)

Now he got it. Now he understood why we needed him to remind her of Julien. He knew why we needed her to believe what we tell her is true. Lyric huffs and flops down in the seat. “Cut my hair,” he says, droning out each word. “Let’s get this over with.”

Abby picks up her scissors and smiles. “My pleasure.”

Chapter 10

The Raven’s Tower

The Raven returned just after Abby finished Lyric’s haircut, carrying Svetta’s acceptance of our request to return to the Ridge. We decide to take extra safety precautions and have Grady drop us off and pick us up at the top of the Ridge instead of leaving our vehicle behind again. If Julien is in Sanctuary, we don’t want him tinkering with it again. Reid, Abby, Sadie, Lyric, and I hike down the Ridge to Svetta’s house. It’s mid-day by the time we make it to the clearing and the sun stands directly over our heads.

This time Svetta watches for us. She stands covered in her black cloak at the edge of her garden, her wild hair bouncing in the shifting breeze that winds its way through the mountains. “Two visits from the Innocent in one month,” she says as we approach. “Can I assume this time is more for business than pleasure?”

I lean up against the side of a tree and try to catch my breath as I pull my hair into a ponytail. Sadie takes the lead this time. She’s seen Svetta more than the rest of us. She accompanies Jade on her annual visit to Svetta’s house to purchase merchandise from her garden. “I think you know why we’ve come back, Svetta.”

Svetta’s smile is slow. “And you, my dear Innocent, should know I cannot let you pass in our borders. Not without cause.”

“We have good cause,” I say, finally catching my breath enough to talk. “We need inside a Tower here. We’ve been told that the history of the Haunted can be found there. We need to know the name of the other Bessette brother.”

“You waste your time child,” Svetta says, her eyes low. “Even if I let you pass, you can’t enter the Raven’s Tower. Neither can I. Only one of the Haunted can pass through the doors of the Tower.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

Svetta shakes her head. “No amount of magic can grant you entrance if that’s your plan.”

I walk toward her and I take her hand. “Svetta, I want to introduce you to someone.”

I bring her over. Lyric, who has been conveniently hidden behind Abby, steps out. Svetta gasps. “Julien?”

Lyric looks up, and I can’t blame Svetta for the mistake. Without his shaggy locks, Lyric shares a striking resemblance to his half-brother. The Cote genes runs strong in them both. Svetta stops just short of him, her hands covering her mouth. “No. You’re not my nephew.”

“But he is,” I say, smiling at her. “He isn’t Julien, but he is still your nephew.”

Her eyes widen. “Francois had another son.”

Lyric reaches out and takes her hand. “Yes. He met my mother shortly after the curse took him. He hoped that having another child would replace the need to find Julien, since he was so well protected here, but it didn’t work out for him.”

Svetta moves forward and touches his face. “What is your name?”

“Lothaire Cote. My father named me. My mother hated it, so she called me Lyric instead.”

Svetta laughs, showing all her teeth. “It’s a family name, Lothaire. It belonged to my father. He hated it too.”

Lyric smiles back her. A genuine smile. The first genuine smile I’ve seen from him, ever. He hands Svetta the small white box. “I know nothing we can offer right now will bring Julien back. I’m here to help them, though. I’m here to try to end this curse for all of us.”

Svetta opens the box of chocolate and then looks up at me. “You think bribery will get you past me?”

I open my mouth, but she snaps the box shut. “You’re absolutely right. You have until dusk to get Lothaire to the Raven’s Tower and back. I will make sure you pass safely, but I warn you all. There are worse things in these mountains than crazy old ladies. Follow the road. Move quickly. Stay together.”

I nod, and Reid is already in front of me motioning us forward. Lyric doesn’t move, though. He still watches Svetta. “You knew my father before the curse took him?”

Svetta nods. “He grew up here on the Ridge, yes.”

“What kind of man was he before the curse?”

The pain on Svetta’s face is real and deep. “A good man. He would have loved you. You and Julien. You two would have been the prestigious prize of a man who had everything.”

Lyric’s gaze falls to the ground. “Thank you.”

Svetta lifts his chin. “No, Lothaire Cote. Thank you. Thank you for giving this poor, lonesome lady something to believe in again.”

Lyric swallows, trying not to smile. Svetta guides him forward. “Go now. You must not waste any time.”

Lyric catches up to me and I elbow him playfully. “Lothaire? When were you going to tell us?”

He rolls his eyes. “Never.”

“I like it,” Abby says, not bothering to turn around.

Lyric stumbles to a stop, gaping at Abby. She doesn’t look back. Lyric finally realizes Abby isn’t going to acknowledge what she said, so he rushes to catch up. “I guess it isn’t so bad,” he says in her general direction with no response. He turns to me. “I always hated it because my father had given it to me. It helps knowing he wasn’t always a soulless murderer.”

“Oh, wow.” Reid stops dead still at the edge of a steep embankment. We huddle in behind him and I try to peek over his shoulder. “What is it?”

He lets out a small laugh and turns around. “You’ve got to come see this.”

I scoot between Abby and Sadie, and I also find myself laughing. In the low valley beneath the ridge, hidden in the darkest shadow of the mountain, is a town. A city of houses.

Tall, ascending into the treetops, the houses are skinny and twisty. They circle around the trees as if following their awkward path to the sunlight above. Large porches extend out into the branches, connected by swinging bridges and hidden paths that disappear into shadows. Gardens of corn and soybeans outline the yards where the tree canopy has been stripped away to allow the sun access. People hoe and till the soil, the harvest season in full swing as they diligently prepare the land for the coming sleep of winter.

“I had no idea,” I say, laughing at the unbelievable sight.

“Me either.” Then he laughs. “I mean, I knew people lived back here, but I never knew it looked like this. It’s beautiful.”

Raven Ridge was a dream. Peaceful as an afternoon nap.

Why hadn’t Julien told me about this place?

He ran out of time.

Reid motions for me to follow him. I slide down the hillside, stumbling out into the deep grass. The first person we see is an elderly man. He shoos a young deer away from his wagon of greens. The deer isn’t afraid of him, though, and returns to steal another bite once the man is distracted by us. He pauses mid-step. At first I think he’s looking at me, but then I see his hands shake as he holds onto the wagon. He’s scared.

He thinks Lyric is Julien. He thinks Julien has returned to Raven Ridge in his cursed state. Everyone stares at us now. People stand out on the porches of the houses above me and in lightless windows in the mountains. Lyric immediately takes the lead and nods kindly to the man as we pass. “Just keep walking,” he says quietly.

We all heed his advice and advance through the long row of houses, keeping to ourselves. No one follows us. The well-worn road slowly fades to a barely visible path in fresh grass, and the trees no longer peel back to allow the sunlight down on us. The temperature feels like it’s dropped ten degrees as the shadow under the mountain grows. “Look,” Sadie says, ducking down to point up through the trees. “I see something on top of the hill.”

I move over to see what she means, and in the distance I can see a small steeple on the mountain. “That has to be the Tower.”

“We can cut through the trees,” Lyric says, pointing in the direction of the steeple.

“No.” Reid takes my hand, holding it tight. “We do what Svetta said. We stay on the road. It will eventually take us there.”

We follow the winding road around the mountain. We come upon more houses, but there are fewer out here in the distant trees. The brush surrounding the road grows thicker. The tall trees with their orange and rust leaves block the sun. Reid and I look at each other. A silent recognition. Always aware of where my Sun is at all times.

As we approach the mountain, I spot the large wooden door outlined in the rock of a long cliff wall. Abby runs toward it and tugs on the handle, but of course it’s locked. If I step back and look straight up, I can see windows in the exposed rock, and at the very top, a peak with a small steeple. “Lyric has to be the one to open it,” Reid says. “You heard what Svetta said. The Raven’s Tower only permits the Haunted to enter.”

Lyric tries the door, but it doesn’t budge. “I was afraid of this.”

He looks back at me, and I know what he’s thinking. “You have to let
him
open it.”

Lyric glances at Abby. “The last time I let him be in charge, she about sizzled my nose off my face.”

Abby snaps her fingers, lightning bursting from the tips. “And I’ll do it again.”

I shoot Abby a look. She isn’t helping at the moment. Lyric faces the door and then glances at Abby again. “Could you go stand over there?”

“Why?”

“Because despite what you might think, I’m not a bad guy. I don’t want him ruining your perception of me before I have a chance to change it for myself.”

Abby takes two very small steps back. “Just open the door, Lyric.”

He bites the edge of his lip, his eyes closing. When he opens them again, they go straight to Abby. “Are you always this stubborn? Or do you merely enjoy brightening my day?”

“Open the door,” Abby says again.

Lyric grins. “This door? Why would I want to open this door for you?”

He circles around her, stopping at her shoulder. “I’m warning you, Lyric.”

“I’m warning you, Abner Thomas. Don’t let your guard down.” He scoots up behind her, pulling her hair over shoulder, whispering to her. “
Le mal est ici
.”

The door springs open and Abby whirls around to face Lyric. The darkness vanishes from his eyes. “I heard him say it this time,” Lyric says. “He said evil is here. And he’s right. I feel him. Julien is close.”

Abby turns around and walks up to the edge of the door. Her hands light up into a glowing ball of sun. “Reid, stay close to Wilhelmina. We don’t know what might be in there.”

Reid has already lit the flame. He winks at me. “Yeah, Willa. I might need you to save me.”

Lyric picks up a torch from the pile. “And who is going to protect me?”

“You’re with us,” she says, pointing at herself and Sadie.

“Really?”

Abby groans. “I changed my mind. Willa, you take black eyes and I’ll take my brother.”

“No. No.” Lyric shakes his head and runs toward them. “I’m right behind you.”

We head into the Tower. The stairs are narrow and spiral upward into the mountaintop. The walls are tight around me. The air is thin and the steps thick and difficult to maneuver. It takes almost twenty minutes to wind our way to the top. The tiny stairwell finally opens into a large circular foyer. The room is empty. Three open archways lead into three different rooms. I walk over and peek into the first room. The ceiling is higher with long rows of shelves, disappearing into the blackness as it goes deeper into the mountain. I turn back around, and that’s when I notice the plaque above the door.

It’s a Raven carved into the dark wood. It’s the same as the one Julien has tattooed on his arm. I walk back out. “This is the Cote family room.”

Reid peeks inside the room. “How do you know?”

I walk over to the next room and look up inside the door. It’s a mountain lion. I check the first book on the shelf and it belonged to a Cheryl Prescott.

Above the door of the last room the plaque is missing. Of course it’s missing. I turn back to Reid. “Each room has a symbol above the door that represents each family of the Haunted. This one is missing. Care to take a guess which one it is?”

“Bessette.”

We all gather in the room, and I pull down the first book I see. It’s an old, tattered novel with frayed edges. The name inside says it belonged to an Ellar Bessette in nineteen forty-two. “Spread out.” Reid rounds the side of the table heading for a dusty shelf in the corner. “We need to find anything that looks like a family tree, and let’s make it quick.”

I go shelf by shelf reading every spine along the side, and if it doesn’t say, then I pull the book out to check the inside inscription. A small leather book catches my eye. The black leather is fresh and unsoiled. I flip through the pages, finding most of them empty. It’s a journal. I have to turn all the way to the front to find anything, but then it doesn’t make sense. It’s the same phrases and words repeated over and over again.

We must stop her. She will grow stronger. Must be stopped.

It goes on and on for pages. Frantic scribbling.

“Hey, I found something over here,” Sadie says. “It’s a catalog of the books.” She scans down the paper that is protected by a glass covering. “According to this, Willa is right. Each room is divided by each family of the Haunted. The room is separated into sections too, though. Historical Artifacts. History. Genealogy.” Sadie’s head pops up and she points across the room at the shelf next to me. “That shelf. That one should hold the book we want.”