“London with Dad.”
I feel a stab of relief, but I don’t let it into my voice. “Where? The old house?”
“No. There’s a coven I know, in Shoreditch. On Hoxton Street. You’d love it, their quarters are behind this little shopfront. Guess what they sell?”
I can tell she is trying to make up for disappearing in the night by being chatty. “Don’t know.”
A pause but she perseveres. “Monster supplies.”
I forget my huff for a moment to let out a noise of surprise. “Monster supplies?”
“Pretend ones. Cute little pieces of witch lore and ‘dragon gold’ for people. Really fun. It’s like hiding in plain sight, you know?”
“Pretend dragon gold,” I say musingly.
“Didn’t have the heart to tell some tourists this morning that dragons have been gone for generations. But it’s a cute little hiding place for now. And the coven is loyal to our side.”
“Our side?”
“Whichever side Portia is not on. Speaking of which, can you put Aunt Opal on the phone, please?”
I am about to tell her that I can’t, that her youngest sister is convalescing, when I suddenly feel a gentle hand move the phone from mine. Opal is beside me. She has ghosted into the room and her creepily acute hearing seems to have alerted her. She gives me an assessing look, as she puts the receiver to her ear.
“Yes, Cass?”
It’s raining outside and darkness has crept in. Leanna steers me back to my seat and whispers that I only need to eat half the vegetables. I nod, distractedly, and look back over to Aunt Opal. She has her back to us and her posture is straight and stiff.
She is listening and not speaking. Mum is obviously feeding her a ton of information that she’s been gathering in London. I get to my feet and head for the door, mentally selecting which extension I’m going to listen in on. I slip across the hall and into the kitchen, taking every bit of care to lift the receiver of the telephone with as much gentleness as possible.
I usually have no control over my clumsiness but, when it comes to eavesdropping, I will force myself to be dexterous.
Mum is speaking when I put the phone to my ear.
“—sort of like we expected. Anyway, Mike and I are hunkered down here, and it doesn’t look like London has fallen. It’s pretty much how it’s always been.”
“A den for Sirens then?”
Opal speaks with bite in her words.
“Now, now,” Mum says serenely.
“London is too stubborn to fall completely. Besides, they’re too divided in the south.”
The Sirens? One thing I know about them is that they do not work well together.
“They’re scattered and self-absorbed,” Mum acknowledges. “It could be Portia is using Edinburgh for a trial run.”
“The spies have become very quiet,” Opal says softly. “Whatever she’s doing, it’s having an effect.”
I clap a hand over my mouth to stop myself from breathing too loudly, fearful of giving away my uninvited place in this conversation.
“So, what is the long-term plan?” Mum says.
I nod, unconsciously. I’ve been silently asking this question for days. We can’t just hide out in our covens and quarters, waiting for them to go away. Portia is not going away.
“I just need time,” Opal finally says and, even though I know she’s talking to her older sister, it feels as if she is speaking directly to me. “I need you to trust me. Give me time to prepare. No impulsive decisions, no attacks, no strikes. Just time. I’m handling this.”
I gently put the phone down, not wanting to hear anymore. I somehow know nothing else is going to be said. I stare out of the kitchen window, into the garden. Alona is there. In her tree shape. She must feel me looking at her somehow, as she quickly transforms into her human self. She scurries to the window, which is slightly ajar.
I don’t know why, but I feel like crying.
“Everything all right?” Alona asks.
She rests her chin upon her hands, laid gently on the windowsill, and she looks up at me with an expression that is older than the ones she usually gives us.
“Not really,” I whisper hoarsely.
“Family troubles?”
I shrug. Then think for a moment. “You and
the Druid?
“Yes?”
“Is he like your father?”
“I suppose. Father, friend, God, mentor. Someone who brought me into the world. I suppose that makes him more of a mother than a father. Aren’t they all those things?”