Belladonna

from Nathan.
    Just like always.
    Lee met his eyes for a moment, then helped Nathan and Kenneday find the most solid spot for the ladder.
    Oh, the wood was weak and trembled under his feet when he eased his way across what was left of the attic. A board cracked ominously as he pulled the box out of its special cupboard. Carrying the whole box would add too much weight to his own — and the image of Rory Calhoun impaled on stone suddenly filled his mind. Two boys were saved by the death of another. He didn't want to repeat that particular tune by saving the books but dying in the process.
    "Lee," he called. "Come up the ladder so I can hand these over to you." He opened the box and took the books out one at a time, stretching as far as he could and moving as little as possible to pass the books to Lee who, in turn, handed them down to Nathan and Kenneday.
    "Careful," Lee said as Michael finally eased his way back to the ladder.
    Wood creaked and groaned as Michael started down. The wood supporting the top of the ladder suddenly broke, and he might have fallen among all the broken timbers if Lee and Nathan hadn't been holding the ladder steady.
    "Go," Lee said, looking at Nathan. Kenneday was already outside, his arms full of books.
    Nathan shook his head. "He said it would hold until we were safely away, so it will hold."
    As soon as Michael had both feet on the floor, Nathan took one end of the ladder and Lee took the other. He followed them out, and as he cleared what had been the threshold of the front door, the cottage gave out a sound of creaking, wailing, agonized groaning.
    Lady's mercy, Michael thought as the rest of the roof and attic flooring that had supported the box of books came crashing down.
    "I told you it would hold long enough," Nathan said to Lee. Then he looked at Michael. "What comes next?"
    Michael shook his head and watched the two women walking toward them. Glorianna looked upset. Caitlin looked dazed, like she'd tumbled into a tree while running flat out. "I think what comes next is up to them."
    "Aunt Brighid," Caitlin said, lightly brushing her fingers over her aunt's hand. "Auntie, it's me. Caitlin Marie."
    Not so bad, the doctor had said. The cuts and burns had not been significant, and Brighid was a strong woman.
    It looked bad enough to her.
    Then Brighid stirred, opened her eyes. "Caitlin? Her hand shook as she raised it to touch Caitlin's face. "Caitlin Marie? I saw you disappear. I saw ..."
    "I know," Caitlin said hurriedly. "I know. But I found a way back. Michael, too. He's here. See?" She half turned in the chair by the bed and looked up at her brother.
    "Aunt Brighid," Michael said.
    "You came," Brighid said. "You got my message?
    "Yes," he replied.
    Currents of power suddenly flowed through the room as the third person moved to a position at the end of the bed where she would be clearly visible.
    Caitlin watched, helpless to understand what was happening while Brighid and Glorianna stared at each other.
    "I am Belladonna."
    Brighid sucked in a breath and coughed it out, a rasping sound. "You're a sorceress like Caitlin, aren't you?"
    "I'm a Landscapes like Caitlin," Glorianna replied. "We are the bedrock that protects Ephemera from the human heart."
    "Lady of Light," Brighid whispered. "You ... could show her who she's meant to be?"
    "I can show her."
    "There's nothing for her here."
    Grief filled Glorianna's eyes, and Caitlin wondered again what the woman had seen in her garden that had caused such distress.
    "No," Glorianna said, "there's nothing for her here."
    "I'm sitting in the room," Caitlin said, guilt that she had done something wrong making her testy. "And I'm old enough to do some deciding for myself."
    Glorianna's eyes never left Brighid's, but she smiled. "Then we'll let your auntie get some rest while we discuss those decisions."
    That didn't sound like she was going to be the one doing much deciding, but at least she'd have her say.
    "I'll be back a little later," Caitlin said, smiling at her aunt. As she rose, she saw the undiluted sadness in Michael's eyes before he made an effort to hide his feelings.
    She held on until they were in the hallway outside her aunt's room before the feelings spewed out. "I don't want her here.
    There's a syrupy meanness in that room. They're taking care of her right enough, but they're glad she's hurt. It's her punishment for taking care of me and Michael all these years." She glared at her brother. "You know that's what they're