Dark Alchemy by Laura Bickle Read Free Book Online Page B

feathers.
    Gabe knelt, feeling the dry grass prickle his palms as he searched for the door. He found a hidden root, pulled open a rusty door covered with turf and dirt. He climbed inside the hole, away from the light and grass and the cackling of ravens.
    It smelled like damp earth here, like a root cellar kissed by floodwater. The fingers of roots brushed Gabe’s face as he dropped below the surface. This place was one of many rabbit holes the Hanged Men had dug over time to go to ground. Rutherford had little knowledge of the warren of tunnels that worked beneath the field, the barn, even his own house. As far as he was concerned, the boys disappeared and reemerged at will.
    Gabe’s vision gradually adjusted as he stepped into the dark. He could see the dirt walls and uneven floor of the tunnel as he wound deep into the earth. He looked down at his clothes. They were streaked with golden light, like frozen sunshine. He could taste it in his mouth, and he spat it out on the floor of the tunnel.
    The tunnel opened up to a chamber directly beneath the tree. Roots reached out in all directions. Gabe could feel the pulse of water and light through the living wood as tendrils dug through the earth, worming after nutrients in the soil.
    The other men were already there. They dangled motionless from the ceiling of the chamber, roots wrapped around their necks and arms, the grotesque fruit of the Lunaria. Gold light pulsed through the silent roots into their bodies, feeding them, regenerating what seemed to be corpses buried underground. Gabe and the rest of Sal’s men could stay away from the Lunaria for a day, or even a handful of them. But they always needed to return, to feel the embrace of the tree.
    Gabe reached upward, feeling the roots wind around his hands, shoulders, and throat. As the Lunaria lifted him into itself, he awaited the cold sunshine dripping into his veins, bringing with it the chill of sleep.
    â€œ ‘ As above, so below.’ ”
    T he coyote was waiting for her back at the trailer.
    The sky had purpled like a bruise by the time Petra returned to her new home. The Bronco chewed through the gravel road, kicking up stones that rattled against the undercarriage. She was more than halfway back before she noticed that Maria hadn’t removed the beaded charm from the rearview mirror. Perhaps Maria was trying to lend her some luck. Petra promised herself that she’d return it. Even if there was such a thing as luck, she wasn’t sure that any of it would stick to her.
    She cranked up the windows and shoved down the locks, stuffing the keys into her pocket as she approached the trailer. She balanced her groceries awkwardly on her left hip and held her bloody clothes in a ball at arm’s length. She’d seen no sign of the meth heads on the way over, but she was still wary. In the falling light, she thought she saw movement, and her hand twitched to her side, to the heavy pocket on her right. But, as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw that it was only the coyote.
    He sat upright on the creaky wooden steps to the trailer door, watching her with shining eyes.
    â€œHello, again.”
    The coyote cocked his head. One of his ears was black and speckled in gold, as if he’d been painted by a child with a short attention span. He seemed very comfortable in this place.
    â€œYou’ve probably been living here a lot longer than I have.”
    The coyote stuck his hind foot in his speckled ear and scratched.
    â€œI’m harmless. Really.”
    The coyote looked at her and blinked.
    â€œI’ll make you a deal. You can keep living here, if I can keep living here.”
    The coyote looked at the sack in her arms. His nose twitched.
    Petra set the bag down. She’d picked up some lunch meat that was probably ruined by now. She dug through the provisions for the package of salami, ripped it open. She crouched before the coyote and extended a piece of meat to