Page 6 of Tanglewood Legacy (The Three Sisters 3)
“What pursuits would those be?”
The governor coupled his hands behind his back and paced the terrace, staring out toward the center of town. “I’m here in an official capacity. If we are to enforce the changes necessary to develop la Nouvelle-Orléans from a land of lawless depravity to a place of order and enlightenment, we must continue down the path laid out by our predecessors. As the parish’s architect and engineer, I need you to double your efforts toward this cause.”
Pierre stifled a groan. Yes, he carried the title, one assigned to him by Étienne to replace a man named Broutin, whom the governor didn’t care for. But Pierre never felt particularly called to the job. Étienne reached into his coat and pulled out a bundle of parchment. Unrolling it, he turned so Pierre could see the drawn squares where buildings now stood, as well as the shaded areas where additional dwellings were planned. “See here. Pauger, God rest his soul, had a vision, and Broutin has worked hard to bring it to life, but now you must finish what he started. We need a prison near thePlace d’Armes, as soon as one can be built. You are the most qualified man to direct its construction. And we can’t stop there. Our numbers are growing. The nuns need the new convent, currently awaiting your direction. The mill must be expanded.”
“Of course. I’ll apply myself to the task by the end of the month.” Pierre tried to sound firm but polite.
“I’d prefer you apply yourself to itimmediately.” Étienne folded his arms, mirroring Pierre’s stance, and straightened to his full, intimidating height. “I understand you are a man prone to philosophical thinking and most interested in scholarly pursuits, but they will have to wait.”
Pierre sighed. “Very well. You shall have your plan for a prison in a matter of days.”
The governor nodded and thumped his shoulder. “Excellent. I look forward to seeing what your brilliant mind can assemble.”
Pierre said his goodbyes and grimaced at the governor’s back. It appeared the telescope would have to wait. He had work to do.
ChapterFour
Riding through the woods along the Mississippi, Isis found she could barely stay upright on her horse. Between the heat, the physical exertion of the ride, and her waning magic, she felt bled of her strength. They needed to get the Tanglewood tree in the ground, eat, drink, and rest to regain their vigor. She sagged in the saddle, her eyes drooping to a close before her body jerked awake. When Rhys finally stopped atop a flat stretch of land at the peak of a small, wooded hill, she almost cried out in relief. He dismounted and checked a strip of blue fabric tied around a tree. Isis suspected it marked the boundary of their land.
“This is it,” he said. “We’re on the southeast point. The river is to the west. We can camp here tonight. Replenish our strength.”
Isis forced herself awake. “No. We must keep going and plant the Tanglewood tree tonight.” She eyed the tree, which hung limply from Rhys’s saddlebag. It had lost a majority of its leaves, and the remainder were a sickly yellow. “I’m not sure she’ll make it until tomorrow.”
Medea nodded her agreement. “Isis is right. It must be planted near the center of our property, beside where we will build our house.”
“I’m as tired as you, Rhys, but my sisters know our magic. It has to be tonight.” Circe rubbed her giant belly. If she were stronger, Isis would have suggested she carry Circe by shadow. She was capable of moving place to place without a horse when she had to. But the fatigue was too much. They’d have to do it the old-fashioned way.
Rhys mounted his steed and rode next to Circe, where he cradled her face in his hands and made her drink water and a tonic he’d made for her. The man was a powerful wizard but an unrivaled genius when it came to herbs and potions. A pang of jealousy shot through Isis. Someday, she hoped to have a man look at her like that.
For some reason, she thought of Pierre then. She rubbed her eyes. Must be tired. Pierre wasn’t a wizard and, at best, would be a pleasant dalliance. Handsome as he was, he was an earth-dweller, and the humans here had proven themselves to be small-minded and destructive when it came to anything they didn’t understand.
Rhys looked at the map and then started forward again. Isis urged her horse on. It was another thirty minutes before they reached what Rhys claimed was the center of their property. This would be where they built their new home and must be where they planted the tree.
“Sisters?” Medea slid off her horse, looking ten years older than her actual age. She raised her wand and, drawing a symbol in the air, gouged out a section of earth. Rhys helped Circe down and then carried the pitiful-looking Tanglewood tree to the hole and carefully set it inside. Circe packed the dirt around the trunk, frowning at the sagging branches. Shadows gathered around Isis in the twilight as she joined her sisters at the planted tree.
“She’s ready,” Medea said.
Each of them extended their wrists over the dirt, raised their wands, and slashed. Magic parted Isis’s skin, and blood poured onto the roots, splashed leaves, and stained branches. She grunted as her body further weakened from the loss, but she knew it was necessary. They’d never lived without the Tanglewood tree. She had no idea what would happen to them if the tree died, but she never wanted to find out.
“That should be enough,” Medea said. They each twirled their wands, and the blood slowed and then stopped.
Circe stumbled, and Rhys caught her in his arms. “Isis, she needs rest.”
There was no question why Rhys looked to her specifically at that moment. The sun had set, and her magic was now the strongest of the three, despite her fatigue. She sighed and raised her wand once more. “I’ve got it.”
With an uttered incantation and a flick of her wrist, she made the tent untie itself from the back of her horse, unroll, and lift. Another flick and the canvas stretched, the poles growing to three times their size and staking themselves to the earth. Magic glowed as the roof was raised and the flaps that served as a door folded themselves into position. A lamp ignited inside.
By the time Isis lowered her wand, almost too exhausted to move, a tent big enough for four stood before them, furnished with beds and blankets and glowing warmly from within. Medea wrapped her arm around Isis’s shoulders.
“It’s done. Good work. Let me help you.” Medea guided her inside. With her sister’s help, Isis stripped out of her dress and crawled into bed in only her white linen shift.
To the sound of her family’s steady breathing, Isis closed her eyes and allowed sleep to wrap her in its loving arms.
* * *
Isis stoodon the edge of a cliff, the only light the ambient glow cast from the sea of windowed buildings that populated the city beyond. She wasn’t certain where she was but admired the peace and tranquility. It was quiet, the only sound the whisper of shadows, a darkness that spoke to her soul.
She jerked when a thick, muscular arm wrapped around her chest. “Finally,” his deep voice said. “You’ve returned to me.”
