I limped along, feeling the pain grow with each step. My ankle was fucked up; I didn’t need a doctor to know that. What I really needed was rest. And proper care. And lunch-slash-dinner; linner. I also needed about a week to study: how a Shaman was different from a Diabolist, Wol’s talent, the extent of Hwari’s capabilities, and Conjuration, along with Abjuration.

  I struggled to catch up to her. “Mina’s reaction. That’s what you, Wol, and Hwari were talking about earlier.”

  Valstein walked without slowing. If anything, she sped up slightly, nearly unnoticeable. Or maybe it was in my head, and I was getting tired from expending increasingly more effort to sustain pace. Regardless of which it was, I had to fight harder to keep pace with the vampyr.

  “Yes. Most practitioners would react poorly to one of their own partnering up with one such as myself,” She said simply. There was a small shrug to her delicate shoulders. “Though I will admit the little bitch’s reaction was more forthcoming than most.”

  She said ‘bitch’ like a farmer referring to a dog, the way it was originally intended. Without particular emotion or inflection. It sounded more degrading that way.

  “Thanks,” I said. “For not saying anything.”

  I saw Rosefinch pause, a slight misstep to the pace of conversation and movement. “I’ve agreed to be your second. I won’t jeopardize my own honor by breaking it so soon after pledging myself.”

  “Yeah, I know. But I wanted to thank you regardless.” I said, trudging along.

  “No need. But you are welcome, nonetheless,” she said, opening the double doors, passing through, and letting them nearly shut on me. She wasn’t trying to shut it on me. Rather, I’m sure the thought of opening it for someone in crutches never even crossed the Vampyr’s mind.

  “And I’m going to guess you being my second has something to do with favors? Maybe with the Intellect, maybe?” I offered, trying to gauge her reaction.

  Rosefinch smiled, not at me, but at the empty air. “You are starting to learn, little Mageling.”

  Outside City Hall, a minivan was waiting for us. The driver gave a deep bow to Rosefinch and opened the door for us.

  Rosefinch motioned to the Geistheilers. The meaning was clear; she wanted them to sit in the back.

  They didn’t protest. The tall one went first, and the short one filed in after him. Rosefinch took the passenger seat.

  “Drive,” Rosefinch said, and the car began to move.

  I didn’t waste any time taking out the books I’d packed when I first left the RV. There were three books that I packed in total, mostly grabbing what I thought would be useful. I brought them out and spread them on my lap.

  Musok: Shamanism, Shamanism: Spirits, and Death: Necromancy.

  “Wol, I need information on the Mother Trees,” I said. “Is it a spirit? A sentient being? The Hudson Witch kept talking about it like it was.”

  “It is,” Wol said. “Check the middle book.”

  I opened Shamanism: Spirits and began to flick through it. “Is there supposed to be a section on trees?”

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  Wol leaped up onto the space between Valstein and me, putting a paw on my leg to look at the book. “The book is translated from old Korean from the Silla era. So it might be off. Look for a section about Earth.”

  ‘Wol wishes to advise you to be careful showing books around others, Caller,’ Hwari whispered to me, filling the small gap of silence between his words and my next. ‘Especially in front of the Geistheilers.’

  Goddamit. In the rush about the trial, I’d forgotten about how coveted knowledge was in this world. I quickly returned the other two books to the backpack. I kept Spirits out because I needed more information. Flipping through it, I found the section on Earth.

  “It’s not too different from what the Hudson Witch said,” I said, trailing the text with my finger. “It says most tree spirits take at least a century to gain sentience, and only if the conditions are right. The flow of water, wind, and earth has to create some sort of balance.”

  “Feng shui based on geomancy,” Wol added. “Your kind, the Korean shamans, would call it fengshuijiri.”

  “Good to know,” I noted. “Damn. Without the Hudson Witch telling us what the actual task is going to be, there isn’t much I can do to prepare.”

  Wol and I didn’t dare state the obvious. Working on my practice in front of Rosefinch or the two Geistheilers in the back wasn’t an option. Not if I wanted to keep an edge over them in the future. Because there was a future for me out there, this wasn’t the end of the road. I had to believe that.

  I kicked out my leg with the cast to the side, trying to stretch out my knee. It was cramped in the car. Luckily, the Geistheilers were in the back, so the seat next to me was open.

  Damn. I couldn’t think of anything to do, and that fact was driving me crazy. I was a planner, and behind that was a worrier. I didn’t just spontaneously cram the night before exams. I liked feeling prepared and ready.

  The drive from Manhattan to Westchester wasn’t long. Forty minutes without traffic and snow. Maybe an hour to two hours with traffic, depending on the city’s mood. But this late at night —technically, we were approaching early morning— with just the snow, which the New York Sanitation Department already cleared off roads? Maybe an hour.

  An hour left till I had to go searching for a mythical tree spirit. An hour to prepare. An hour to spend.

  “Rosefinch, I have a question.”

  I don’t know when, but the Vampyr had taken out a tumbler from somewhere and had her middle and index fingers dipped in it. “You wish to ask about the Hudson Witch,” She said.

  The Geistheilers tensed at that. It was a subtle thing. Almost like they hadn’t really been there until Rosefinch brought up the name of their master.

  “Yeah, I do,” I said, then waited to see if the Geistheilers would say anything.

  They didn’t.

  Rosefinch was already talking before I’d made the observation. “Unfortunately for you, little Mageling, I know little more than the others. She is… ancient. More so than anyone in New York. Some claim she was here before the first settlers set their ships upon the shore. Others say, older still, that her flesh was the first sentient mortal flesh on this continent.”

  “I thought she was a practitioner,” I said. She looked human, and my Third Eye hadn’t picked up on anything.

  Rosefinch dabbed her fingers to her tongue. I saw her eyes slightly roll back in the sockets through the rearview window and chose to look away. It wasn’t attractive at all. Just alien.

  “She was.Once.”

  The voice came from directly behind me.

  I gave a little jump at the voice, then turned around to the source. The short Geistheiler had its —her, I realized with shock— arms wrapped around one of the headrests. She rested her head on it from the back, tilting her head and staring at me through the deer skull mask.

  “But that was a long time ago,” She said in the same scaly voice.

  “What happened to her?” I asked.

  “Different stories. When Time came for her mortal flesh, she cast it aside, and her familiar made new skin for her to wear, tricking it,” The deer-mask girl said. “Others say she made a pact with ancient powers. A boon of stepping outside the karma of age, for a favor. Another story about how she’s no longer, and it’s her familiar who wears the skin now, stopping it from wrinkling.”

  “Wait, she’s immortal?”

  Valstein gave a soft laugh. “Mageling, there are no immortals.”

  At the same time, the deer-mask girl said, “Yes, some say.”

  I turned to Wol.

  “I cannot say I’ve ever met one except the Fae,” Wol said, “It’s a topic of debate.”

  “I thought Vampyrs were immortal,” I said.

  Rosefinch swirled the liquid inside the tumbler, holding it to her nose. “Mmm. Well, some of my more wilder kin would agree with you.”

  She left it at that.

  “Are you allowed to tell me more about the Hudson Witch?” I asked the deer-mask girl.

  She traded a look with her taller counterpart. Both of them shook their head. “Not now,” she answered.

  The response gave me pause.

  That meant that they could give me information. I thought they were loyal to the Hudson Witch, but maybe I was wrong. I thought that Abigail not liking Assad had been a one-off. Maybe it was the opposite. Maybe all the followers of the Table were similar to her, locked in a contract where they had no choice but to obey. I mean, if I were one of the Wickermen, I wouldn’t want to end up as a puppet for the Egregore in the later parts of my service.

  None of that was information that could help me right now.

  Without being able to read my book or talk with Wol freely about my practice, we settled into a natural silence.Rosefinch was content with her tumbler, and the two Geistheilers in the back faded into an afterthought.

  I slept.

  The rest of the book will focus on the trials.

  Consider book 1 the intro.

  This doors thad lead elsewhere, Purgatory, places in-between Planes, Abandoned Amusement Parks and what haunts them.

  Also, I made a Discord:

  As always,

  Thank you for reading.

  -wkrrk