“A few things,” I told him. “First, how you two became dabblers. I want to know how the Mother Tree fits into all this, and lastly, why you’re here. I also want to know who killed the Mother Tree.”
Greg looked a little overwhelmed. I’d never seen him with anything less than crisp white shirts before. On a closer look, Ashley’s uniform wasn’t in much better shape. Dried mud from trudging through the snow was caked over her white sneakers, with the huge ‘C’ engraved on them. Both their thighs were stained—most likely from wiping their hands because they had nowhere to wash them.
“Start from the beginning,” Mina said gently.
Greg nodded. “A couple of months ago, my dad got a new job. I think he got fired from his old one. But this new job he had, he had to—,” he shook his head. “I think he had to pull a lot of strings. And he started to do things.”
“What kind of things?” I asked.
“Things that… what did you call them? Dabblers? Dabblers do,” Greg said. “Like drawing circles in our basement. Candles. Chanting in the middle of the night, leaving the house more often, and locking himself in his office. Things like that.” He shuddered. “He, uh, he started talking to himself in the basement.”
“You sure?”
Greg closed his eyes, a single tear drop falling down his cheek. “No, I know now. He was talking to things.”
I looked at Ashley to check her reaction. It was written all over her face. She knew about this whole thing just as well as Greg did, and was knee-deep in the whole thing just like him. Sana kept smiling, looking more and more like a porcelain doll. Creepy. Beautiful, yes, but still creepy.
“It wasn’t just my dad. He got my mom to do it, too. Ashley’s parents, some other parents from school were involved too. Coworkers. It was like this one big country club,” Greg kept going. “He started inviting people over to our house, and they’d all do the same thing. Talking about spells and charms. They needed to get their hands on more books. Then they’d test things out, you know.”
“A cabal,” Mina snarled.
“Easy,” I whispered gently, but I had a sinking feeling. “And how’d you two get into it?”
“My dad told me it’d be good for me. Help make connections,” Greg said. “All those investment bankers, the pharma guys… some famous people, you know? People that are good to know for the future.”
“And it wasn’t long until you started going down into the basement yourself,” I said.
Greg nodded. “Yeah, man.” He closed his eyes. “Dude, it was so easy at first. Just like, draw a small diagram, and it goes up in fire. Nothing big, just enough to light a candle. It was fun. Almost like chemistry class.”
“But your parents wanted more,” Mina said flatly.
“He did,” Greg admitted. “I’m not even sure what he wanted more of. Everything, I guess. But whatever it was he wanted, those guys who got my dad the job, they had more of it. Money, connections, and magic books.” He gave a small, unbelieving laugh.
I would too if I said ‘magic books’ while talking about corporate nepotism with a touch of the occult.
“They were willing to give it to him, too, as long as he worked for it. Give and take, they said. That everything has a price,” Greg said. “And last week, they called my parents upstate somewhere.”
“That’s around the time the Mother Tree was attacked,” Mina said. She shifted in her seat, leaning forward to listen better.
“Your parents are involved with this, too?” I asked Ashley.
She hesitated, then nodded. “Just my mom. She’s an orthopedic surgeon.” She swallowed, taking in a breath before starting her side of the story. “She’s gone out a bunch of other times before this. But when she got back this time, it was different. She was scared. I think… I think something followed her back. Followed them all back.” The last part was barely more than a whimper, and Ashley hugged her knees closer to herself.
“Christ, that's half the PTA," I said. "You saw it?"
“Not exactly,” Greg said. “Three days ago, I saw what they brought back. Just these white and black tree branches. Big, but nothing special, you know? Like… like just wood. But they were so happy about it. Drinking, celebrating. My dad kept telling me we’re going to be filthy rich.” He closed his eyes. “And when they went down into the basement, it followed us there.”
The sinking feeling was growing. That was about the last time I saw them at school. “Did you get a look at what it was?”
“I don’t know,” Greg said, his voice pained. “I didn’t go down there. We were chilling in the living room. All I know is that the lights started flickering, and there was screaming.”
“We heard my mom screaming at us to get out and call the cops,” Ashley said in between her sobs. “But the phone lines were dead, and our cellphones weren’t working either. And when we ran outside, it was weird. Like… we were going through the garage at first, then we weren’t. The next thing we knew, we were here. In the slums.”
“Sana found us and took us in. She filled us in on everything… and what we’ve been doing,” Greg said. “We’ve been here since.”
I rubbed my hands over my face, squishing my cheeks upwards them bringing them down. Their story was in chronological order, but there were a lot of details missing, some of them crucial information. As a result, it felt disjoined. But between Greg’s failed attempts to hold back his tears and Ashley’s own quiet sobbing, I didn’t even know where to start.
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Mina’s whistle sliced through the silence. “Sounds like we have a cult on our hands.”
“Jesus,” I swore. “Is that bad?”
“Pretty bad.”
“How bad?”
Mina gave me a look. “Bad.” A glance at the two nepo-babies was enough to let me know she didn’t want to say more in their presence.
But my last name wouldn't be Hallow if I couldn't try some levity in a situation as heavy as this. "Worse than an HOA? Cause pseudo-cultists from my school's PTA sounds bad, but I've heard some things—"
“Jain,” Ashley interrupted me, sobs staining her words. “You’re one of them, right? Practitioners? The ones who were with my mom?”
“Kind of,” I said. “Let’s just say they have a boss. I’m more of a self-employed kind of guy.”
Ashley’s eyeliner was staining. I was surprised she had time to put on makeup throughout all this. “Are you really going to help us?”
“I’m going to try,” I said, trying to put as much meaning as I could into the words.
That flipped the switch for the waterworks. Ashley started frantically wiping at her eyes, trying to stem the tide of tears, only to stain her face even more. Snot dripped down her nose. Her crying egged Greg on, and soon, the inside of Sana’s Cafe was filled with the sobs of two Charter Academy socialites in their senior year.
“P-please,” she said. “If you help us, I swear, I’ll be friends with you at school. I’ll t-tell Kevin to stop messing with you. I’m sorry for everything we ever did to you. I’ll sit with you at lunch and everything.”
I felt my shoulders slump with leaden weight. Of everything Ashley has said so far —and could’ve said— somehow, that was the most embarrassing. I couldn’t put a finger on why, though. It just did. God, why did she have to say all that?
“That’s nice and all,” I said, ignoring the heat spreading from my neck to my face. “But let’s focus on what matters here. Can I get your addresses? Both of yours.”
They told me that, plus a list of other details which I couldn’t be bothered to remember.
“Jain, outside?” Mina asked.
I got up at the same time she did. “Yeah.”
“What about us? Do we just stay here?” Greg asked when he saw me getting up to leave. “I… Can we come with you?”
“That is not up to them,” Sana answered in my stead. “But up to you two. We can discuss it at length.”
Mina and I left the room as quickly as we could, entering another one off to the side that was partitioned off by beaded curtains that I only saw on TV. With just us and our familiars, the room felt considerably less crowded. Funny how just this morning, I thought the five of us together had been too much. Now, this group felt severely undermanned and outmatched.
“You know something about this,” Mina said. It wasn’t a question.
“I have a theory,” I said begrudgingly. “But you’re not going to like it.”
Mina leaned against the wall, crossing her arms together, confidence just oozing off of her. She wasn’t at all phased by what just transpired in there. “Surprise me.”
I struggled to think, wondering how to even start. “Okay, you said you know something about the Table, right? You know about the Wickerman guy?”
“The Egregoire,” she said. “My harabeoji told me about him. Told me to stay away. Didn’t tell me why.”
“He’s an egregore of fire. Burning buildings, great fires in cities, things like that. The last time I saw him, he wasn’t a practitioner as I thought. The egregore is the one in charge. The practitioner is more like a hand-puppet.” I shuddered, remembering the unsettling scene.
“Aptly put,” Wol commented dryly.
Seoul growled at the description. It was clear he had some very strong opinions about the proper way a familiar should behave.
Mina frowned. “Unusual, but I’ve heard of it. You think he’s related?”
“Occam’s razor again,” I said, reusing the idea. “He leads an organization called the wickermen; lowercase w, with an E instead of an A. Full of up-and-coming finance bros, tech bros, marketing gals, investment bankers—all the people of New York who want nothing more than to catch the next big break. It’s basically a super-secret club for the rich who want a little extra oomph in their resumes. Learn some magic, talk to some important people, networking, get promoted, all that jazz.”
Mina frowned. “That sounds suspiciously close to what your friend was saying there.”
“One, not a friend,” I corrected her. “Two, yes. That was the first clue. The second clue was the fact that his parents brought back tree branches. Guess what one of the benefits of joining the wickermen’s country club is?”
“A staff,” Mina said. “Now I remember. They were at the town hall.”
“Bingo,” I answered back. “Not only that. Remember at the school when those bounty hunters came after me? One of them was the Wickermen. I’ve been wondering about how they figured out where I was. What are the chances one of the Wickermen hears my name, asks around about it, and one of their parents identifies me as a student at Charter?”
“That… surprisingly makes a lot of sense,” Mina said.
“As I said, walks like a duck, sounds like a duck, probably is a duck.”
“There were no ducks in any part of the day, Caller.” Hwari sounded disappointed.
“I’ll take you to Central Park next time,” I said.
“So what? You think the Wickerman employed a group of dabblers to kill the Mother Tree to make a bunch of staffs for them?” Mina asked incredulously. “That… that sounds like a huge risk for a Table member. That’s akin to declaring war.”
“But it makes sense, doesn’t it?” I pressed. “Wol, what do you think?”
“Yes,” Wol admitted. “But you have to consider, Practitioner. He brings immense risk to himself, were he to be exposed. Were the Mother Tree’s branches truly worth this risk?”
“That’s what we have to prove, don’t we? The why.” I said, feeling otherwise. It felt like I was on the right track. I just needed a few more facts to back up my claim.
“Jain,” Mina said. Her tone put a slight damper on my excitement. “Let’s say you’re right. What will you do then? We can’t just go to the Hudson Witch and tell her all this without proof.”
“Luckily, we know where to go next.”
“You really think an egregore, who’s literally a creature made of human thought, is dumb enough to leave around evidence in the homes of his newest members?” Mina asked. Say what you will about her, but she knew how to consider all the ‘maybes’ before jumping into things.
…I wondered just how much of her physical assault on me had been a calculated gesture.
“Not just there, but I also know where the wickermen supply their staffs. Well, not me. Abigail.”
Mina’s eye twitched, but she didn’t comment. “Ok, then where to first?”
“Greg’s place first, then try to reach Abigail somehow,” I said, feeling the conversation reach its end. My body was ready to move.
Sana walked in through the curtains. “Are you two getting ready to leave?” She smiled. “Then I suggest leaving through the back door. I’m afraid the two of them are set on following you.”
I frowned.“What’s going to happen to them?”
“Nothing, Jain Hallow,” she said. “They will remain, until they are ready to leave.”
“And I’m assuming there’s a specific rule about how to leave this place,” I said.
“You learn quick,” Sana said, and her note of approval sent butterflies fluttering down my stomach. “For those who entered willingly, it is an easy matter. For those who fell in, another thing entirely. And that is their story, and theirs alone.”
“Is it a lot different for those who fell in versus those who walked in?” I asked.
“There’s a lot of words for ‘falling in’, Practitioner,” Wol offered in his usual calm voice. “Spirited away, isekai, fey-touched, slipped through the cracks, and so forth. But remember, there is power in intent. That same power will allow you to leave. Those who were spirited here had no intent.”
I found Sana looking at Wol and my interaction.
“What?”
“You are unlike any other practitioner I have ever met,” Sana said. “Once you’re done with this business, I may have a job for you.”
I thought of the green goblin-ish guy lying face down in a pool of his own blood and vomit. It was an image I’d been trying to forget and not address. “Yeah, I think one murder mystery is enough for the year.”
Sana Ravok simply smiled.
“Come on, Jain. Let’s get a move on,” Mina said, heading towards the door that Sana pointed to.
We closed the door behind us, finding ourselves at the back where the dumpster was.
“We can leave the way we came,” Mina said.
I took the lead. “Let’s go.”