Home > Cursed Moon (Prospero's War #2)(62)

Cursed Moon (Prospero's War #2)(62)
Author: Jaye Wells

“Shaking things up isn’t always bad, Kate.” She stared at me in a way that felt like she could see through my skin. “You’ll stop the Dionysus.”

My chest tightened. I didn’t bother pretending I didn’t know she was talking about Dionysus. “What if I can’t?”

“Is that what’s scaring you? Why you’re drinking?”

I made a noncommittal shrug.

“That reminds me. I got something for you.” She reached into the pocket of her housecoat. She held up a tiny vial filled with a glowing blue liquid.

I frowned. “What is it?”

“Gideon’s Dew. Found it at the apothecary yesterday when I went to refill my Maslin’s prescription. I asked the wizard behind the counter about it. He said with the Blue Moon coming, lots of people want some sort of souvenir.”

“It can’t be true Gideon’s Dew unless it’s collected on a Blue Moon.”

She waved this off as unimportant. “Do you know the story behind it?”

“You mean like the biblical story?” I shook my head. “They weren’t too big on teaching scripture at Albertus Magnus High.”

“According to the wiz at the apothecary, the story comes from the book of Judges. This guy named Gideon was a poor farmer living in a land filled with heathen tribes. God came to him and said, ‘Hey, you need to kick those heathens out of Canaan.’ ” She leaned back, toying with the vial. “Naturally, Gideon was skeptical. How could one poor farmer beat an army? So he asked God for a sign to prove he would prevail. So God put some dew on a fleece.” She crossed her arms like she’d just made a brilliant point.

I blinked, but I kind of got the gist of what she was saying. “In alchemy, Gideon’s Dew is closely aligned with aqua permanens. It’s used in potions requiring answers or solutions. It’s a symbol of divine wisdom and the need for faith.”

“Exactly. The point of the Gideon story is that you have to trust that answers will present themselves when you’re ready for them.”

I sighed. “Baba, that’s great and all, but I’m afraid police work doesn’t jibe too well with faith.”

“You came down hard on Danny today.” The comment was so unexpected, it nearly gave me whiplash.

“He lied.”

“He did.” She nodded and took a sip of her tea. “Volos hasn’t called him back.”

My brow rose. “I won’t take the blame for that, too.”

She shook her head. “No one expects you to.”

I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Christ. Sometimes I wish I’d never taken this damned job.” The words spilled out before I realized I said them.

Baba, bless her, didn’t pounce on it like Pen would have. Instead she slowly set down her mug and looked me in the eye. “You’re doing good, Katie.”

I laughed bitterly. “By whose definition? Pen thinks the task force is going to lead me down a path of self-destruction.”

“I’m not saying you haven’t made some damned fool choices, but you’re a smart girl. You’ll do what needs to be done when the time comes.” She raised her teacup at me in a toast. “Think about our friend Gideon. He probably had to make some sacrifices, too. But he fought the battles because no one else could.” She reached across the table and grabbed my hand with her own. The cool touch of her papery skin felt like a balm. “You’re doing noble work, Katie. Never forget that.”

“That’s funny,” I said, polishing off the beer. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel very noble.”

“You tell that to all the mothers who don’t have to bury their kids because you busted a potion ring. Tell that to the kids who don’t have to go to foster care because their mamas didn’t die.”

A memory of my mom’s funeral roared to the front of my mind like a phantom. The day had been sunny. The bright light glinting off Lake Erie in the distance had felt wrong, like the sky was mocking my pain. My skin had felt so tight, and my chest filled with a pulsing bruise where my heart used to live. I hadn’t cried, though. Because standing next to me at that gravesite was six-year-old Danny. His hand had felt so small in mine. So fragile. I remember looking down at that sweet little face with the tear streaks and the heartbreaking loss of innocence in his eyes and vowing to protect him no matter the cost.

If I hadn’t been old enough to take custody of him, we both would have ended up in foster care. Most likely separated. Like so many other of the Cauldron’s children, we probably would have ended up in homes with Mundanes who would have forced us to use our right hands so we’d fit in.

Kids like that? The lost kids Danny and I almost were? They were one of the reasons I kept fighting against the covens. Because I’d seen what almost was and it scared me more than standing up to bullies like Uncle Abe for the kids who couldn’t fight for themselves.

“Thank you,” I said, finally. “I needed that.”

“You don’t have to do it all yourself, Kate. We’re here for you, too.”

“Right,” I said, bitterness creeping into my tone. “What would happen if I just threw my arms in the air and gave up?”

“Dunno, why don’t you try it?”

I shook my head at her. “Stop, okay? Just stop. It’s so easy for you to tell me to surrender, but you don’t have the responsibilities I have.”

“You mean like caring for a kid that’s not mine?”

Ouch.

“Or helping my friend with an addiction keep off the potions?” She pointed an arthritic finger at me. “Or having to watch someone I care about self-destruct because they’re in denial?”

“I’m not in denial.” I set my jaw. “I’m exhausted.”

Her shoulders drooped. “Then go to bed.”

“Look,” I said with a sigh, “I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. It’s just been a long night—hell, it’s been a long month.”

“Blue Moon’s in two nights. It’s almost over.”

I blew out a shaky breath. “But when it is, who will be standing?”

Baba shook her head sadly, as if apologizing for not being a psychic. “Go to bed, Kate. This won’t all feel so overwhelming after a long nap.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Baba. Thank you for having my back even when I’m being an asshole.”

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