Saturday, September 27. In the Woods. Still.

Lusa slipped out of the tent a little bit before dawn and sat beside me. 

I’d spent the night staring down the hollow mutt.

The ground was cold. Dew had fallen during the night, seeping into my clothes. Everything felt wet. 

And I couldn’t even build a fire because I couldn’t leave the salt circle until Mr. Hollow found somewhere else to be.

Not that I’d packed a lighter anyway.

If we were doing this again tonight, I’d bring one. And something for coffee.

And another sleeping bag, budget be damned.

As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the trees, our hollow rose, bowed to Lusa, and left.

Just like that?

“That one is not strong enough to remain in daylight,” Lusa said. “Even you could dispatch a jackal once the sun rises.”

Even me. I tried not to wince. 

“Those mutt things are called jackals?” I asked, opening the cooler. I dug out breakfast and handed it to her.

“Yes.” 

She accepted it with a murmured thank you and dug in. 

“What now?”

Lusa placed a hand on the ground and closed her eyes. “The earth is tired,” she said. “It feels so…hungry. We need to feed it.”

I thought about the creek yesterday—how she’d crouched there, hands cupped in the water like she was holding something alive. Said she was listening to its song.

After that, she hadn’t argued about buying water.

“Which means what?”

She sat back, considering. “Manure would be best. A thick layer, well-rotted.”

“This is a state park. We can do some things, if it’s quiet, but a park ranger is going to notice us hauling in loads of cow pies. Not to mention it would be next to impossible to get them out here without a 4-wheeler, which the park rangers will, once again, frown upon. Anything else?”

“We widen the circle. Cleanse and restore.”

“Which would mean?”

“A lot more salt—pure salt—and herbs. Sage, yarrow, dandelion. A smooth river stone—“ 

She set the empty container aside and rose, crossing the line of salt. She paced around in a widening spiral, head tilted as if listening.

“Here,” she said, stopping. “There is a finger of a ley line. It is not as strong as I would like, but it will do. Bring me stones to mark it.”

Good thing this was north Georgia. Rocks tended to just lay around. It took all of a minute to find more than I could carry. 

“We need to build a bridge to feed the energy to the tree and then out to the circle.”

“And what will need to do that?” I asked, stacking rocks where she indicated.

“More of the same. Herbs. Copper. And blood.”

I looked up sharply.

She smiled. 

“Yours.”

“How much?”

“Not enough for concern.”

Again with the vague answers. Was it really that hard to give it to me straight?

But all I said was, “Cow pies are sounding better and better—“

“No, you are right. We do not have time for the other way. The corrupted will be back tonight. Or at least his minions. We have to remove the tainted tree and lay the circle.”

“That bas—er, jerk—he’s a corrupted?”

She nodded.

“And he’ll be back? You’re sure?”

“If not tonight then soon enough.”

“Tree, salt circle, wave some herbs and wire and we’re done? You’ll be anchored?”

“Enough for tonight. Once we close the circle, I will not be able to leave it for a while.”

“How long?”

She shrugged. 

So, do Lusa’s ritual and she’d be stuck here for who knew how long. Why did I get the feeling she would still need to eat? Would still be vulnerable?

Looked like I wasn’t free yet.

Wonderful.

“No time to waste then. Let’s get your herbs and such.”

I could already hear my wallet screaming.

Turns out, the best place to find just salt cheap is a feed store—thank you, internet. 

Most feed stores closed by noon Saturday, so that was our first stop.

I reached for the fifty-pound bags—until I tried lifting one. Several miles through the woods cured me of that idea. And it wouldn’t fit in my backpack. Paying more for the same amount of salt was still cheaper than replacing my spine. 

So, I told math brain to shove it and grabbed a few twenty-five-pound bags instead, along with other things we’d need—a spool of copper wire Lusa was delighted to find, a handsaw, hatchet, rough garden twine.

A quick search listed Nourish as the best place in town to get the herbs. Might as well get this week’s groceries too. Even with hollows waiting for darkness, this guardian—and her reluctant warden—still needed to eat.

Speaking of which, having given Lusa my last two meals, I was pretty hungry. Judging by the tantalizing scents hitting me in the parking lot, Nourish’s bakery was in full swing with more of those tempting apple turnovers and other mouth-watering smells I couldn’t identify. 

I really, really wanted Lusa to wait in the car in case I ran into someone I knew, but…I also didn’t know what herbs she needed. Sure, dandelion sounded simple enough—but did we need root? Flowers? Greens? Fresh? Dried? 

College had skipped the course on Emergency Land God Restoration, so I was relying heavily on anime and video games…which was bound to be a recipe for disaster sooner or later.

Lusa paused inside the door and swept her gaze around the store, taking it in.

“Let’s head over here first,” I said, already walking toward the bakery.

I got a hearty egg-sausage-cheese biscuit for myself and an apple turnover for Lusa—which disappeared as quickly as the previous two meals. My own biscuit vanquished and coffee in hand, we headed into the store. I got this week’s meal-prepping groceries first—sized for two this time. 

…and tried to ignore the growing tally of just how much money I was loading into my cart.

Well, I couldn’t propose if I was still shackled to a needy guardian or dead from hunger or— 

I turned to Lusa, feeling cold. 

“Our visitors last night,” I said, keeping my voice low. I grabbed two cartons of eggs. “Can they harm people?”

One of them had tried to drop a tree on us.

“Most humans cannot see them. They have little ability to impact those without connection to the Unseen.”

“So, normal people are safe?”

“For now.”

I knew better than to ask the next question. 

A whole chicken and several packs of beef went in next. 

Oh! Bacon. Ron's list had called for uncured bacon. One pack went into the cart. I'd either ration it or have one spectacular breakfast.

Relief lasted exactly one heartbeat.

“And me?”

“You are my warden.”

Right. Of course I didn’t get the normal human exemption.

My grip tightened on the cart.

“You said that—” I tried to remember what Lusa had called the hollow this morning. “—jackal didn’t have enough power to face daylight. What does? Are you in danger this far from your circle? Can hollows or whatever leave the forest?”

I thought about the two that had attacked Lusa that night we met. They’d been close to the woods, yes, but still very much in man’s domain. Did I need to keep looking over my shoulder while I was trying to go about my life? At work?

“I have seen traces of miasma and hollows in your city, so yes, they can leave the forest.”

A chill ran through me. I hadn’t seen a thing.

“But too weak for day?”

“For now.”

Ugh. Again. 

Would it kill her to explain? 

We turned onto the tea aisle. Half of it was dedicated to large containers of dried herbs. Lusa selected herbs and measured them into bags.

“Corrupted,” Lusa said, surprising me, “can walk in the day should they choose. But, it weakens them.”

“So, keep an eye out for that jerk.”

“His most trusted too. The more powerful, the greater they can resist.”

“Can they be killed?”

“Cleansed,” she corrected. “If you injure them enough they will fall back to the void, but will return again. To truly end them you must cleanse them.”

She considered large steeping bags meant for tea. The label boasted 100% organic cotton. 

There had better be gold thread woven in too for that price. 

I held my breath.

Lusa set the bag back down.

Thank goodness.

A mother with young children in tow turned onto the aisle.

Yeah...Suddenly this conversation felt a lot less appropriate.

“Do we have everything?” I lowered my voice. “Even for cleansing…uh—”

“You cannot cleanse tainted. Not as you are.” Lusa said, not changing her volume. 

I grimaced and glanced at the mom. Leaned closer. “Then how—“

“We have worries enough. Leave the tainted for another day.”

“Ohkaaay then.” 

I headed for the checkout before this got any worse. 

I didn’t bring up tainted or cleansing again until we were safely inside my apartment. Having her there made the apartment seem smaller. Shabbier.

Sarah came over occasionally, but given the option, I’d much rather go to her place. 

Lusa sat at my tiny table.

I did my best to ignore my growing discomfort as I put the food away, then got busy prepping meals for the next few days.  We still had one more stop to make before we returned to Lusa’s…grove.

  “Tell me about cleansing,” I said, dumping noodles into boiling water. Good thing I liked that noodle salad. It kept well and was one of the cheaper meals on the plan, so we’d be eating it frequently.

“It is a ritual. Not so different from how we will cleanse the grove. Both take time. You must bind the tainted and apply the reagents: sage, yarrow, poplar, living water—all bound with blood tied to the grove.”

“Mine?” I guessed.

“Or someone else from the court.”

“What is this court?”

I felt a trace of sadness, so faint I almost missed it.

“Those sworn to the grove.”

“So, different than me?”

“Yes.”

“Where—“ The question died before I finished it. “So bind and apply herbs and that’s it?”

“Until the moon sets. Longer, for stronger tainted. Some must be bound many nights to be returned to us.”

Returned. Not killed. Not sent to the void.

I turned that word over. Thought about how Lusa talked about the tainted. 

“Were all tainted something else, once?”

She shook her head. “Not all. Some have always served Chaos.”

Not all. Which meant some were. 

My stomach tightened. Suddenly that conversation in the circle made a lot more sense. 

“That jerk—corrupted—wanted you to join them, didn’t he? Could he make you? Against your will?”

She didn’t answer. Didn’t look at me.

It was answer enough. 

I drained the pasta and set it aside to cool. My pressure cooker beeped. I pulled out the hard-boiled eggs and dumped them in a bowl of ice.

“So we perform the ritual for the grove?” I looked at her for confirmation before continuing. “And then what? You stay and anchor to the earth and will be strong enough?”

“I will be stronger. But I have never slept this long before. My ties have never been this fragile.”

Which sounded to me like she didn’t know. 

I washed the pressure cooker’s liner, then put the chicken in it. Punched a couple of buttons to start the cycle. Chose my next words with care.

“I have to work after tomorrow. I can’t stay and protect you. We should—find you a proper warden.”

How I was going to do that, I didn’t know. Call up local martial arts gyms? Find someone who could hold his own but smelled of patchouli and wore sandals? Who was already so far into We gotta save the earth, man, that they’d jump at the chance to protect a guardian of the land?

I snorted. Yeah. That wasn’t happening.

A tightening in the bond. A spike of fear? Shame? 

I looked up. Lusa was poking at the eggs in the sink. She was very pointedly not looking at me. “What do I do with these?”

“If they’re cool enough to touch, you peel them.”

I hid my smile at her blank look and showed her how to peel the eggs, then fished out a container to store them. 

“I cannot bond another warden,” she said softly.

Somehow, I didn't think that was the whole story.  

I didn’t say it out loud. Just waited.

She held up a hand. Studied it. She’d lost the near translucence of last night, but was still very pale. 

“We’ll get you back to your grove soon,” I said, portioning pasta into containers. “Food won’t take much longer. I’m going to shower and change. Then we can eat before we head out.”

I started down the hall. Stopped as a thought occurred to me. Lusa was wearing the same clothes as yesterday.

How did I ask a not-a-god about mundane necessities? 

She needed food, though that seemed to be a new development. She hadn’t brought anything with her yesterday. No clothes. And she’d seemed perfectly comfortable with being in the woods without shelter, though she had used the tent at my insistence last night…

What about a shower?

“I’ll get you a towel. You can clean up when I’m done. We can get you fresh clothes when we stop at the store on the way back.”

I hit cancel on how much that was going to cost before my brain could run the numbers.

“Is something wrong with these?” Lusa asked.

“No, they’re fine. But aren’t they dirty?” 

“It is simple enough to manifest clothing.”

“It’s magic? You’re using your power?”

She nodded. 

I sighed and scrubbed a hand over my face. 

“I’m new to all this, but that costs something, yes? Don’t you think you should conserve your power until you’re anchored?”

She frowned. Maybe her life was just as turned upside down as mine at the moment.

“I thought your people held strict views on clothing. But, perhaps you are correct.”

Her clothes shimmered.

It took my brain exactly half a second to realize what she was doing.

"Wait!" 

I spun away with a yelp.

“Don’t just dismiss them! At least wait until we get you real clothes…and somewhere to change.”

I hurried down the hall.

A tiny, thoroughly unhelpful corner of my brain complained.

I told it to shut up.

Closed and locked the bathroom door for good measure.

Lusa wasn’t human—I was reasonably sure. Unless guardians were just long-lived humans with magical jobs.

She looked human…mostly. But my gut said she was something else. 

Besides, I had Sarah. 

Sarah. 

We were supposed to go out this evening. Was it too much to ask for just a tiny break? Just one? 

I pulled out my phone.

Me: Sorry, I’m not going to be able to make it tonight. Tina left. 

  I got saddled with her clients…and a few other problems.

Waited. 

She read it.

The dots popped up on the bottom of the screen…then vanished. 

Nothing.

I climbed into the shower. 

Went over my mental to do list: get Lusa anchored so she was strong enough to find another warden. Not fall behind on my ridiculous workload. And hopefully wash my hands of this whole mess before Sarah got fed up with me.

That was the sane thing to do. 

I hadn’t asked for any of this. 

But the thought of walking away leaving Lusa helpless, once-powerful land guardian or not—the idea refused to sit right. 

I reached for my body wash. Paused as the scent hit my nose. 

It was Sarah’s favorite. 

But it seemed too strong.

Maybe not the smartest thing to use before a weekend in the woods. 

I got out, dripping water all over the floor and rooted around in my tiny cabinet until I found some bland bar soap stuffed deep in a drawer. 

Seriously, this was beyond ridiculous. Now I was second guessing fragrances? First this warden thing took away all my favorite food—a horrible thought clanged through me. What about beer?

I hadn’t thought of it during the past week. Been too busy being sick and stuff. 

But what if I couldn’t drink anymore? 

Some sacrifices were simply unreasonable. 

I checked my phone one more time.

Still no response from Sarah.