Beautiful Chaos (Caster Chronicles 3)

“Aunt Prue?”

The three white rocking chairs were sitting on the porch, with little wicker tables between them. There was a tray on one of them, with two glasses of lemonade. I sat in the second rocking chair, leaving the first one empty. Aunt Prue liked to sit in the one closest to the walk, and I figured she would want that chair if she was coming.

It felt like she was coming.

She’d brought me here, hadn’t she?

I gave Harlon James III a scratch, which was strange, since he was sitting in our living room, stuffed. I looked at the table again.

“Aunt Prue!” She startled me, even though I was expecting her. She didn’t look any better than she had lying in her hospital bed, in real life. She coughed, and I heard the familiar noise of the rhythmic compressions. She was still wearing the plastic cuffs around her ankles, expanding and contracting, as if she was still in her bed at County Care.

She smiled. Her face looked transparent, her skin so pale and thin that you could see the bluish purple of the veins beneath it.

“I’ve missed you. And Aunt Grace, Aunt Mercy, and Thelma are going out of their minds without you. Amma, too.”

“I see Amma most days and your daddy on the weekends. They come by ta talk a lot more regular than some people.” She sniffed.

“I’m sorry. Things have been all wrong.”

She waved her hand at me. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. Not just yet. They got me on house arrest, like one a them criminals from the TV.” She coughed and shook her head.

“Where are we, Aunt Prue?”

“Don’t reckon I know. But I don’t have much time. They keep you pretty busy ’round here.” She unhooked her necklace and took something off it. I hadn’t seen her wearing the necklace in the hospital, but I recognized it. “From my daddy, from his daddy’s daddy, from way before you were even a thought in the mind a the Good Lord.”

It was a rose, hammered out of gold.

“This is for your girl. Ta help me keep an eye on her for ya. Tell her ta keep it with her.”

“Why are you worrying about Lena?”

“Now, don’t you go worryin’ ’bout that. You just do as I tell you.” She sniffed again.

“But Lena’s fine. I’ll always take care of her. You know that.” The thought that Aunt Prue

was worried about Lena scared me more than anything that had happened in the last few months.

“All the same, you give it ta her.”

“I will.”

But Aunt Prue was gone, leaving only half a glass of lemonade and an empty rocking chair, still rocking.

I opened my eyes, squinting into the brightness of my aunt’s room, and I realized the sun was coming in sideways, much lower than when I’d arrived. I checked my cell. Three hours had passed.

What was happening to me? Why was it easier to slip into Aunt Prue’s world than to have a simple conversation in my own? The first time I spoke to her, it didn’t seem like any time had passed at all, and I couldn’t have done it without a powerful Natural at my side.

I heard the door open behind me.

“You all right, kid?” Leah was standing in the doorway.

I looked down at my hand, uncurling my fingers around a tiny gold rose. This is for your girl. I wasn’t all right. I was pretty sure nothing was.

I nodded. “Fine. Just tired. I’ll see you around, Leah.” She waved me off, and I left the room with the weight of a backpack full of rocks on my shoulders.

When I got into the car and the radio started playing, I wasn’t surprised to hear the familiar melody. After seeing Aunt Prue, I was relieved. Because there it was, as right as the rain that hadn’t fallen in months. My Shadowing Song.

Eighteen Moons, eighteen nears,