Thursday, October 2. Grove.

My alarm jerked me awake. It took a moment to remember why exactly I was sleeping in a tent in the woods in October. Fear followed immediately after. 

Lusa.

Was she okay? Had anything happened while I slept?

I didn’t wait for my pulse to calm enough to sense the bond, sitting up and unzipping the tent.

Lusa sat where I left her. Anchor in hand. Eyes closed. Expression serene.

My breathing slowed enough I could feel the bond.

It pulsed quietly, which was comforting after yesterday’s hollowed-out silence.

I wriggled out of my sleeping bag—only for last night to come crashing back in on me.

Lusa’s fear.

The attack.

The light going out of Scar’s eyes.

Khan’s taunts.

And the body pinned just outside the grove.

No way was I stepping outside the circle until the sun was up. 

…which was still another hour away.

Khan would probably leave a little before then—unless he had a point to prove, then he’d stay until the sun was high enough to make shadows scarce.

I typed a text to John.

Me: Arm’s swollen again. Going to urgent care when they open.

And scheduled it to send in an hour.

All things considered, my arm felt pretty okay. I could use it, more or less, and the pain had faded to a dull aching throb, which just being inside the circle soothed…and was another reason I wanted to keep my ass planted here as long as possible.

I’d come to a decision last night while Lusa slept and I waded through spreadsheets.

I’d do the right thing. 

Move the body somewhere safely away from Lusa and call the police. Explain I’d found it while hiking. I’d even change my clothes and pack enough gear to make it convincing. 

My biggest concern was the shadow that dripped like tar from the spikes, soaking into his clothes, running down the tree, pooling on the ground.

Was it like the taint on the tree the corrupted had felled? Was it dangerous to touch?

My skin crawled at the thought of going near it.

I’d need a shower after.

Maybe to exfoliate a layer of skin.

Burn my clothes. 

Shave my hair and beard.

...Okay, maybe that last one was excessive—and noticeable when I finally did hit the office—but the thought crossed my mind.

And what about whoever was sent to investigate? To handle the body?

There was too much unknown.

“I’ve got to call the cops,” I told Lusa. I kept my voice low, hoping Khan wouldn’t hear. “Report the body.”

Lusa met my eyes. 

“You cannot.” Her voice was just as soft.

“So, just pretend nothing happened? He’s somebody’s son. Maybe somebody’s dad or brother. We can’t just leave him there.”

“You cannot involve mortals.”

“If I don’t report him and someone else finds him—“

“They will not.”

I tamped down my growing frustration and forced myself to take a deep breath.

“Why can’t I report him?”

The bond stirred.

Not fear.

Not sorrow.

Something quieter.

Lusa closed her eyes.

“He has been tainted. It does not end with death. Mortals who touch it carry it onward.”

It took a moment for the meaning to sink in. 

“Those without sight could be harmed?”

She closed her eyes, as if admitting it cost something. “Yes.”

“Can’t we cleanse it? Rub it with yarrow or something and then call the cops?”

“I cannot spare the strength required. Better that he is never found.”

It felt wrong.

Deeply wrong. 

But I had stumbled unaware into this hidden world. And I’d be damned if my actions dragged anyone else in with me.

“So what do we do?”

“Take him down. Bind him in cleansing to stop the spread. Return him to the earth. That will contain for now. As the grove heals, the taint will wither and die.”

“You want me to bury him.” I held up my arm. “I’m not exactly up for digging graves right now. And I’m short a shovel.”

Forget the boss. John was going to be pissed when I never came back from ‘urgent care.’  We were in the middle of the freaking forest. The ground would be hard and there would be roots and—

“Why do you need a shovel?” Lusa asked.

“To dig a hole.”

“You are my warden. The earth listens to you.”

“And that means what, exactly?”

“Speak to the earth. She will hold him.”

I opened my mouth to ask just how I was supposed to do that…or maybe laugh at the idea, I don’t know, but closed it at the way she looked at me. As if what she had said wasn’t something straight out of fantasy, but simply how the world worked.

The bond hummed quietly, lending weight to her confidence.

“Can’t do anything until kitty from hell leaves,” I said.

So I did the only reasonable thing I could. Opened the cooler and dug out the bacon I’d splurged on.

There were still a few ice cubes floating in the cooler and the water was still cold enough I wasn’t too worried about the food. Lusa would finish up whatever was left for lunch.

Added Buy ice. Again to my to-do list.

I fetched one of the cast iron pans we’d bought for the ritual. Shot Lusa a glance to make sure I wasn’t about to contaminate it or anything, then plunked it on the fire. The coals glowed a rosy amber, their warm light pushing the shadows back more than I thought they should. 

It was a relief that cooking—and more importantly, brewing coffee—didn’t seem to be forbidden actions for a sacred fire.

Bacon sizzled as it hit the pan. The sound was comforting, a bit of normalcy to what awaited me today. I couldn't have said why bacon over a campfire felt so normal. 

It simply did.

Eggs followed. Coffee gurgled in the percolator. By the time I had two plates loaded with crispy slices of bacon and gently fried eggs, I’d caught Lusa casting hungry glances my way, sniffing appreciatively. 

She saw me catch her looking and straightened, pretending she’d done no such thing.

I couldn’t help but smile. It had to be frustrating, to go from a being so very other the earth provided everything you needed for sustenance to having to live as a mortal.

I swapped the stone in her hands for breakfast.

“You should—“ The protest died on her lips and she scooted over, giving me room to sit down.

She still looked uncomfortable accepting help from me.

Which, honestly, I understood. 

The grove’s warmth flooded through me and I closed my eyes, enjoying this brief moment of peace. Soon enough, I’d face a reminder of what the shadow could do—and why it was so vital I found Lusa’ta a proper replacement. 

Not just because I wanted my old life back.

I didn't want anyone else ending up nailed to a tree because of this war. 

The morning should have felt miserable. Damp woods. Shadow monsters. A corpse waiting just outside the grove.

Instead… 

Sitting with coffee and bacon while the grove’s warmth pulsed beneath my skin, I felt oddly at ease.

I decided not to examine that too closely.

“Tell me about your last warden,” I said, when she had finished eating and took back the anchor. I grabbed my plate, briefly wishing I had a biscuit to go with the eggs and bacon.

Campfire biscuit recipe joined the to-do list.

For a moment, I didn’t think Lusa would answer, but finally she said, “Her name was Enokke. She was sunshine walking. The grove listened to her. The wind knew her name. She was courageous, unyielding, protecting her people and the land from Chaos.”

Chaos. There was that word again. Or maybe it was a name.

“Her people?” I asked.

“Muscogee. The settlers called them Creek.”

“There were Creek here? In Athens? I thought the Cherokee—“ I closed my mouth, feeling stupid.

“The Cherokee were further north. Their lands were in Ahuli’s territory. His warden, Takoda, and Enokke were close. It can be—difficult—for our wardens, watching those they love age and die while they remain.”

There was something in that statement that I did not want to touch right now. Not with a ten-foot pole.

“What happened to her?” 

Had the shadow—Chaos—claimed her? There had to have been some reason that Lusa was wardenless, that she had chosen to sleep.

“Her people were sent west,” Lusa said. Her voice was flat. “I could not follow. I could shield Enokke, keep her hidden here—but her heart was with her people. Many suffered. But she saw them settled in their new home.”

She pressed her lips together.

I waited. 

“I released her,” Lusa said finally. “And then I slept.”

“How long was she your warden?”

Lusa smiled. “Enokke was a stubborn soul. And she had Takoda. She was with me longer than any other. More than six hundred of your years. She boasted she would do another three hundred before she let some young idiot take over. But then—”

She didn't finish.

She didn't have to.

I stared at Lusa, trying to wrap my head around it all. 

I knew she was old. Had toyed with the word immortal in my head. Only now was it beginning to sink in what that actually meant. 

Enokke had been a warden for several centuries. And Lusa had other wardens before her. And now she was stuck with…me.

Glanced at Khan. 

Gray light was seeping through the woods. Dawn would be here soon. Khan waited patiently, planted in deep shadow. 

“Lusa’ta is an unusual name,” I said.

“Enokke would have said the same about Nathaniel.”

I smiled. “My mother likes to be dramatic. Nathaniel Soren. Couldn’t just pick something like Daniel Lee. No one would bat an eye at that around here.”

“Soren is your…family name?”

“Middle. Halberg is the family name.”

“My first warden, Nokosi, called me Lusa’ta.”

“Called?”

“Called. It isn’t safe for unbound mortals to speak Celestial. The words still echo the power of creation.”

“So your name—“

“Is Lusa’ta.” Her voice was firm. 

“Does it—forgive me if this sounds ignorant—does it mean something?”

“All names have meaning, even yours.”

I shrugged. It wasn’t something I had really thought about.

“Human names are a prayer,” Lusa said. “A blessing parents pass children to carry with them throughout their lives.”

I hadn’t considered that. Didn’t even know what mine meant. Hadn’t cared, honestly.

“Lusa’ta is dark river.”

“Nokosi called you dark river.”

She smiled, flashing white teeth.

“He was Creek—uh, Muscogee?”

“No. Before the Muscogee. His people came from the west, fleeing Chaos. Some stayed and became Muscogee. Some went north. He stayed. It was a time of great unrest. Chaos almost won.”

“You have fought the shadow before?”

It shouldn’t have surprised me that this wasn’t new. But it did.

“Chaos has hungered for this world since the beginning.”

I chewed on that for a moment, my gut squirming. It was a lot to wrap my head around. She made this—Chaos—sound like an entity. And since the beginning? The beginning of what?

Time?

Humanity?

I didn’t know that I could face fighting an unending war. One where the enemy was never beaten, only pushed back for a time.

No wonder she’d looked so tired. 

So afraid.

Alone—perhaps for the first time. 

And weak.

“What about that other guardian—“ I cast around trying to remember his name.

“Ahuli?” Lusa supplied.

“Yeah. Is—“ 

A chittering sound interrupted me. I looked around for the source.

Khan stretched, looking annoyed. I followed his gaze and spotted the largest—squirrel wasn’t quite right, but close—I had ever seen sitting on a branch just out of the panthera’s reach.  

The squirrel tirade continued. Khan flicked an ear, his claws sliding out.

I realized with a jolt that the squirrel was speaking. 

“The utter gall! How dare you show your face! This is the grove of the Meridian Court, you sentinel of darkness. Your kind has no place here!”

I hid a smile. The little tree rat didn’t seem to need to breathe. 

The squirrel turned, sweeping Lusa a bow. “My Lady! We are so glad you’re back. The forest has been waiting. I felt you wake—and I’ve been searching for you ever since!“

I glanced at Lusa. Her face was serene, but I felt another slow pulse of amusement…and something else.

Khan growled, low and dangerous.

The squirrel puffed himself up, tail arched high.

“Lady Lusa’ta has returned,” he declared. “These woods are under the protection of the Meridian Court once more. You will not threaten her while breath remains in me.”

Khan leaped, sinking claws into the tree.

“I’ve done it again,” the squirrel moaned. He scrambled higher up the branch. “Excessive confidence. Sylfen is going to murder me.”

“Warden,” Lusa said quietly, but I felt the authority behind it.

Well, shit. It seemed like it was my job to save the tree rat’s sorry ass.

I grabbed my staff and limped to the edge of the salt circle, my brain screaming at me. What was I doing? I was still half-mangled from last night’s attack. Everything hurt. 

I did not want to go toe-to-toe with Khan right now.

But I leaned on my staff, right inside the salt line.

“Hey, Khan. You don’t want to eat that.”

Khan gave me a withering glance. “I am well within my rights to eat the pest.”

I pretended to study a fingernail. 

“Suit yourself. But the sun is coming up. And I have these nice new bullets I can’t wait to try.” I pulled my gun, not quite training it on Khan. “Scar seemed to think the first set was effective. These blessed bullets?” I shrugged. “Might leave a nice kitty-sized crater. Besides, the rodent probably has parasites. And tiny bones that will stick in your teeth.”

Khan sat back down, ignoring me. He cleaned a paw, looking completely unconcerned. 

Finally, he rose and said, “Laugh while you can, mortal. One of these days I or my brother will have you for a snack.” He laughed, a growl that skittered across my already frayed nerves. “Bones and all.”