The Witches of Dark Root: Daughters of Dark Root: Book One (The Daughters of Dark Root) (15 page)

“But I don’t wanna go to bed, mommy,” I teased, and she laughed. When we were kids, Eve and I called her mommy because she was always fussing after us. When we got a little older we dubbed her Mother Merry, a nickname she seemed to like.
 

Harvest Home had four themed bedrooms and I couldn’t wait to see which one we were sleeping in.
 

“This is your room,” she said, pointing towards a door that I remembered as the flora and fauna collection. An overly fluffy room in shades of powder pink and lilac purple. Not my favorite. I would have preferred the Midnight Oasis theme, but as long as I was there with Merry, I didn’t care. I quietly opened the door and she gave me a quick hug.

“You’re not sleeping here?” I asked, and she shook her head. I peered into the room and could see the silhouette of a sleeping body in the King-sized bed. “Eve got here before me?”

I should have known.

“Yes, several hours ago, in fact.”

“What about her ‘friend’? He’s not sleeping in there, too?”

“His name is Paul, and I think he really is just a friend,” Merry smiled. “...Much to Eve’s chagrin. He seems like a nice guy, though. Drove her all the way here from New York. He’s sleeping in the attic until we get a room cleaned up for him.”

“The attic? That place gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

“I was worried, too. But he just cleared out a space, blew up an air mattress, and went to bed. Acted like sleeping in an attic full of giant porcelain dolls was the most natural thing in the world. If Eve can hook this one, she should keep him. She might never find another guy who can put up with these sorts of eccentricities...”

“No kidding,” I said.

That went for any of us, I supposed.

Merry brushed a strand of hair off of my shoulders. “We’ll catch up tomorrow. I still have that surprise for you.”
 

I smiled to reassure her. I would have relished snuggling under the covers with her all night, sharing secrets and catching up. Instead I was stuck with Eve.

I said goodnight to Merry and crept inside the bedroom.

Eve stirred under the blanket, but her steady breathing told me she was still asleep. I envied her. She could sleep through Armageddon if she needed to.

I quietly kicked off my shoes and wriggled out of my skirt, pulling off all of my long-sleeved shirts before crawling into bed. I should have brushed my teeth first, I thought, but I was too tired to find my toothbrush. A yucky mouth in the morning was a small price to play for a good night’s sleep.

I slid under the blanket, mentally marked the invisible line that separated my side of the bed from hers, fluffed my pillow, and lay my head down for the night. I heard Eve take a deep breath beside me and I held still so I wouldn’t wake her.

But it was too late.

“Sissy,” she said, yawning. “You’re late.”
 

“Sorry about that.”

“No problem. It gave me and Merry a chance to hang out.”
 

She gave me a kiss on the shoulder and draped an arm across my waist. Her smell was familiar, an earthy scent.

I just laid there, still and unmoving, waiting for her to fall back to sleep.
 

At last, her breathing deepened.

I inched my way out from under her arm and onto the edge of the bed. Sleep hit me like a punch in the face and I succumbed to it, knowing I would need all my energy for the things still to come.

Eight: Maggie May

Harvest Home, Dark Root, Oregon

June, 1994

Maggie sat frozen in the upstairs hallway, her head turning robotically from one side to the other, trying to decide on her next move. She could hear footsteps plodding up the wooden staircase behind her and she cocked her head to determine if it was one set or two.
 

Her pursuer’s breathing was excited and labored, and like her, looking for a place to rest.
 

Maggie spotted Merry standing in the hallway and she ran for her sister. Maggie took her hand, and the two girls moved through the corridor together, passing doors with various words chiseled on plaques. Some rooms Maggie was familiar with, while others were forbidden.
 

“Where we going?” Merry asked, her face scrunching up in her expression of seriousness. “I’m tired.”

“We can’t stop now,” Maggie insisted, dragging her sister behind her.

They opened each door as they passed, peeking in for possible hiding places.

Each room presented its own set of challenges. Too small. Not enough furniture. No escape route. Occupied. Had they been back at their own house, they might have had an easier time figuring out a plan. Maggie knew every nook, corner and cranny of Sister House, but Harvest Home was still a foreign land.

“There!” Merry pointed to a string that dangled from the ceiling.

They looked up to see the rectangular outline of the attic door.

“That’s not a good idea,” Maggie said. She was afraid, but she didn’t want her sister to know. “You might get hurt.”

Merry clucked her tongue. “We never get hurt.” She rubbed Maggie’s arm and a warm, soothing energy crept through her body. Behind them, a set of wild, heavy footsteps let them know they were still being followed.

Feeling helpless, Maggie pulled the rope.
 

A heavy wooden door fell forward, unrolling itself, barely missing their heads as it dropped. The footsteps grew heavier, beating down upon them like a wild horse. Merry scrambled upwards and Maggie followed cautiously behind, keeping watch.

“It’s dark,” Merry said, surveying the room.

Maggie swallowed, allowing only her head and arms to enter the blackness. A tiny round window high up on the vaulted walls, obscured by cobwebs and dirt, was the only source of light.

“Help me get the ladder up,” Maggie said, pulling herself fully into the attic. The footsteps had momentarily ceased, and Maggie realized the follower was probably scouring one of the rooms. Time was short. “Quick!”

The two girls wrestled with the ladder. “It’s heavy,” Merry said, her breathing deepening as her chubby fingers locked around the rungs.
 

Maggie nodded and wondered if it was too late.

But with one final tug the ladder acquiesced, folding itself as if by magic, and the girls whooped victoriously.

The moonlight from the window fell across a clump of figures near Maggie’s right foot. She jumped back instinctively. Could that be a pile of bodies? Curiosity won out over fear and she touched one, expecting to feel something clammy and spongy, something decomposing. The object was dry and smooth.

She grinned. These were not bodies. They were giant, porcelain dolls.

A scuttling in the corner caused them to yelp.
 

“Probably just rats,” Merry said.

Maggie grimaced. Her sister may love all animals, but she didn’t. She sat down on the cold floor and covered her knees with her skirt, Merry following suit.
 

“Let’s try and be quieter,” Merry whispered.

Maggie looked around, trying to make out shadows in the dark. Long, formless shapes danced on the walls. “Do you think this room is haunted?”

Merry thought for a moment. “I don’t think so. But even if it was, Mama says ghosts won’t hurt anyone. They just want someone to talk to.”

Of course, neither Mother nor Merry had probably been visited as Maggie had. The spirits came mostly when she slept, and only a scream or the flip of a light switch would send them away. She huddled closer to her sister.

“I think it’s almost over,” Merry said, nodding.

Maggie reached for her sister’s hair, finding silver-yellow tresses so long they fell past her lap and splayed across the floor. She coiled them around her hand like spaghetti on a fork. They glittered in the darkness like the silken strands of a butterfly’s cocoon. Maggie had just began to relax, when a loud, sudden noise made her jump.
 

The room flooded with light as the attic door fell open.

Maggie and Merry caught their breath, clinging to each other, small hands digging into each other’s arms. They watched and waited as a figure emerged.

Maggie could hold it no longer and she let out a pitiful scream.

“Guys? Where are you?” It was Eve’s voice.
 

Maggie could make out the silhouette of her sister’s lithe body and long, straight hair. She chastised herself for being silly.

Merry stood up and beckoned. “Here we are, Eve! Come hide with us.”
 

Eve scrambled to join them, not bothering to shut the hatch behind her. Maggie and Eve sat on either side of Merry like bookends.

“I was so scared you were caught!” Even in a whisper Merry’s voice was a bundle of excitement.
 

“I almost was, but then I escaped.” Eve explained.
 

Of course, she did, Maggie thought.

Eve always got away from everything unscathed.

The reunion was short-lived, however, as new sounds emerged––a trampling of footsteps falling on the hallway below. Maggie could hear Merry suck in her breath as she grabbed her sister’s hands. The three of them folded in on one another, waiting for their doom.

“Time’s up,” a voice said, as a short, slender figure made its way into the attic hideaway. “Mom says it’s time to go...”

Ruth Anne stood before them, hand on hip.
 

“Shane’s asleep on the couch,” Ruth Anne said. “He gave up looking for you twenty minutes ago.” She peered into the room and shook her head, an indication that she was not impressed. “Let’s get out of here, before they open another bottle of wine.”
 

“That was fun,” Merry said, scampering down the ladder. “Ruth Anne always finds us, though.”

Maggie agreed. Ruth Anne may not have any magic, but she had smarts.
 

In the hallway, the Counsel of Seven waited for the girls: Uncle Joe, Uncle Leo, Aunt Dora, Miss Rosa, Miss Narissa, Miss Lettie, and their mother.

“Darlings!” Miss Sasha said, running over and sweeping them up in her arms. “Mommy was so worried about you! Harvest Home is a big place and the spirits are restless here. But I’m glad you are safe...”

“We were just playing hide and seek,” Eve explained. “Shane was supposed to find us.”

Uncle Joe knelt down, producing three lollipops from his pocket. He took Maggie’s hand and guided her down the stairs to the main room, while the others followed behind. Maggie spotted Shane snoring on one of the red couches. No boy could ever beat the Maddock girls. If he were awake she would stick her tongue out at him, but as it was, she would have to settle for teasing him about it later.

“Rosa,” Miss Sasha said, taking the hand of her friend. “As always, I’ve had a marvelous time.” Miss Sasha licked her index finger and held it up, pausing. “Looks like rain is coming. We must hurry home.”

Uncle Joe cleared his throat and shot Sasha a look that said there was still unfinished business to attend to.
 

“Oh, all right, Joseph,” their mother said, smiling at her daughters. “One more minute then. Girls, go say goodbye to Shane while you are waiting.”

Eve and Merry proceeded to ‘wake’ Shane up by thumping him with throw pillows from one of the sofas. Ruth Anne plopped herself down in a chair and removed a paperback from her purse. Maggie stayed where she was, pretending to read a songbook while she eavesdropped on the adults.

“We’ve already had three sightings in the last year,” Uncle Joe said.