Bramble Burn Read online

“I’ve never hurt a woman,” he said desperately. “I’ve stolen, lied, helped hurt people, but never that.”

  She wrestled with herself, but her instincts finally won. She could say no, but she wouldn’t. On his head be it. Grudgingly, she said, “Fine. How many people are going to be in your apartment, because the bathrooms are going to be important?”

  He jumped to his feet and gave her a crushing hug, then headed for the door. “I have to tell them! Mama doesn’t know what I hoped for.” He paused. “You might have to tell her. She’s very proud.”

  “I don’t have a tree done yet,” she protested, clearing away the lunch dishes to give her something to do. Kids in Bramble Burn. Ugh! The monsters would eat them, and then she’d be on the news again, this time as the idiot who invited a helpless family here.

  Great. Now she had stress.

  “We’ll need a couple of days to pack, anyway.”

  She would have answered him, but was distracted by a presence at her front gate. She had visitors. Perfect. As if she didn’t have enough going on.

  She looked out the window and groaned. Oh, no! She hoped she’d been hallucinating about that, but it was the business-suited elf, Lord Thorn-something. She’d probably offended him, and he was back to tell her about it.

  Grigori looked pale.

  “Friends of yours?” she asked, hesitating at her door.

  “I don’t like cops,” he said.

  “He’s a pencil pusher, not a cop. Well, a Lord Pencil Pusher, but still. He’s probably not after you, but wait in here until he leaves.” She checked for stray critters, but the hedge was doing its job, so she crossed the lawn and looked at her guest. “Yes?”

  He tilted his head. “You look better than the last time we met, Miss Baily.”

  Her face got hot. “I don’t remember much about that, sorry. I was…indisposed.”

  “I understand. I hope this is a more convenient time?” At her nod, he continued, “As I said last time, my name is Lord Haythen Thornshadow, and I’m here on behest of the city council. We would like to schedule an appointment to discuss business.” He handed her a business card. “What time would be convenient for you?”

  She glanced aside, gathering stamina. A council meeting sounded as painfully tedious as a root canal. “What do they want to talk about?”

  He tilted his head. “I believe they would like to discuss your plans for Bramble Burn.”

  “Are they upset about something?” She knew it! Someone decided she’d violated a building code, or maybe PETA was trying to save the spotted owl. Hah! If there were owls here, they would probably eat the activists.

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “So they’re curious?”

  His smile was charming. “It would be good if you could ask them yourself.”

  Of course it would. She crossed her arms. “Why don’t I give you my number, and they can call and discuss whatever they like? I’m on a tight schedule, and the monsters aren’t helping.” She tilted her head at her tree, indicating that she’d like to oblige, but the monsters would somehow prevent it.

  He smiled warmly. Really, how many kinds of smile did this guy have? Probably as many as it took to get the job done, she thought sourly.

  “I think they have a proposal to help with that.”

  Of course they did. Who was she fooling? She had to go, and they both knew it. “I might be able to go Monday. Wait, make that Tuesday. I forget everything on Mondays. I’ll be busy tomorrow, recovering Friday, and I have a thing on Saturday. Sunday’s not a business day.” She rambled when she was stressed, too. “What time?”

  “What would you prefer?” he asked, very accommodating.

  “Morning. Nine o’clock?”

  “I’ll send a car,” he said. “May I have your number in case we need to reschedule?”

  She didn’t like giving it out, but she supposed he wasn’t going to give it to a phone solicitor. She rattled it off and watched him punch it into his phone. It was depressing, kissing a chunk of her time goodbye.

  “Thank you for your time, Miss Baily. By the way, you have a lovely tree. Quite a feat.”

  “Thanks. Have a nice day.” She retreated and resolved not to answer the door again. She was getting a headache.

  “You can head out, Grigori. They want me to attend a council meeting,” she said as she went inside.

  “Oh. Good.” He glanced at her. “That guy was dressed pretty sharp. What are you going to wear?”

  She gave him a flat stare. “Kevlar.”

  He shook his head as he headed to the door. “You need to dress up so they’ll respect you. You wouldn’t wear gang colors in the hood unless you wanted to be dead.”

  She threw her arms out. “What do you suggest? My good jeans, or my Sunday jeans?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t know. Find a girl to tell you. See you.”

  Find a girl, huh? Find some money, more like. She crossed her arms to sulk, but he was right. What should she wear? A skirt was out, and she was serious about the Kevlar. WWJD?

  She texted Mia so she could vent. I don’t have any clothes, she whined.

  Her phone beeped. Did you lose them?

  She snorted. The council wants to see me next week and I have nothing to wear. Do you have anything I could borrow? It was a shot in the dark, because they weren’t the same size, but maybe she had useful ideas. There had to be a secondhand store in town, right? Know any decent thrift shops?

  Her phone rang.

  “You do know this is me, right?” Kjetil asked dryly.

  Juniper froze, stunned. “K-kjetil? I must have hit the wrong number. Sorry!” She pressed a hand to her burning face, grateful he couldn’t see it.

  “No problem. You have a meeting?” He sounded warmly amused.

  She cleared her throat. “Tuesday. The council wants to talk to me. I couldn’t avoid it.”

  “That sucks,” he commiserated. “You could try black jeans and a leather jacket, something practical you can move in.”

  “I’m going to have to shop, aren’t I?” She looked at her cracked boots and acknowledged she’d needed a pair for a while. “Okay, thanks.” She needed to get off the phone so she could splash cold water on her face. Lost her clothes, indeed.

  “Are you going to the barbeque Saturday?” he asked before she could disconnect. “There’ll be ribs.”

  Mm, ribs. “I’d planned on it. Why?”

  “My sister is a clothes horse, and I’m helping her move. She agreed to get rid of some stuff if I would help, and she’s about your size. Why don’t I bring it to the station and you can see if any of it suits you? If it doesn’t, you’ll still have time to shop.”

  “That would be a big help, thanks.” It was almost worth the embarrassment of a misaimed text, and it would save her a lot of hassle. “I appreciate it.”

  “Thank you. We’ve been trying to reform her, and her husband needs the closet space. I’ll never understand what some women see in shopping.”

  “You and me both. I’ll see you soon.” Well, that wasn’t so bad! Maybe she could pull this off after all.

  They’d marked a spot on the grass across from the Iron Oak for Grigori’s tree. His mother expressed doubts about the move, but Juniper agreed to meet her at the salon where she worked to answer any questions. She planned to trade oil and greenhouse goodies for a haircut while she was there, clean up a bit so she looked less like a grubby farmer.

  She waved a hand at Grigori. “Okay, stand back. No, farther, like Twix. Good.” She’d decided on a chestnut for the shop, and she was going to be tired. On one hand, she was planting an anchor tree, but it was in the wrong place and would make the next tree a bit harder as it pushed against the pressure. Oh, well, she’d promised Grigori, and she needed the money the sale of parts could generate.

  “Hey!” he called from a safe distance, distracting her. “When your eyes glow green like that, does the world look green, too?”

  “What? No. I never thought about it.�
�� She wagged the seed at him. “Do you want a tree or not?”

  He raised his hands in surrender, but he was practically jigging with excitement. He’d never seen her grow a tree, and this was to be his.

  She dismissed him and tossed the nut, gathering energy. The sprout rooted and sent up a stalk, and she guided it, giving it the strength to root deep and grow tall. Tall as a chestnut, tall as a…

  The squeal of a colossal beast jerked her out of the zone. In her determination to finish the tree, she’d ignored her hedge. Nothing had happened in the last few days, and she’d secretly thought the monsters believed her to be as formidable as the rest of the city. She’d believed her own press, and now she had to dodge behind the tree as an armored boar the size of a tank plowed through her hedge, ignoring the thorns. The thing had double tusks and thick bone plates that could probably withstand an RPG.

  Twix and Grigori scattered, and she fought to get it together. It was hard to switch gears, but the bark of Grigori’s gun helped. The beast squealed and spun on a hoof as a bullet hit him in the butt, charging the boy.

  As it came in range, the iron oak snatched at it, but the limbs were too slow. Roots snaked from the ground, forming snares that only maddened the pig.

  “Cage,” Juniper snarled, pouring power into the tree. Roots shot up, forming a barrier between the monster and Grigori, but the monster broke them as soon as they formed.

  Twix took that as a good time to charge the beast.

  “Twix, no!” she shouted, but the boar whirled and charged her Black Adder, which put him on a collision course with her.

  The chestnut shuddered as he crashed into it, and she screamed like a little girl, closing her eyes as she crouched behind its bulk. Instinct made her hurl her magic into the tree, making it soften and engulf the boar. It saw her and squealed, pushing into the tree with all its might. Hot, fetid breath fanned her face and teeth snapped, so close she could see the bumps on its tongue.

  Breathing hard, she stepped away, hardening the wood, trapping the pig. Finding a soft spot, she shot a wooden spear into its chest, piercing the heart. The pig squealed and died.

  The tree seemed to take it as fertilizer, for it suddenly shot up, widening, feeding on the blood and bone and incorporating the body into its design. Bark became bone armor and formed a wide garage bay door framed in pig leg columns and crowned with a boar’s head.

  Steps led to a small porch, and the door latch looked like a pig’s tail. As she’d intended, a sunroom/greenhouse formed on the top floor. The ribs of the onion dome were actual ribs and the base of the dome was ringed with a chain of pig spine, the opened shutters polished bone plates.

  She stared, speechless, and took a few steps back to stare. “Your mother is not going to want to live here.”

  “Are you kidding? I love it! Let’s look inside.” Grigori led the way, looking around cautiously to make sure there weren’t any more monsters waiting to pounce.

  A glance showed the hedge repairing itself, and Juniper sent orders to thicken it. Twix was fine, so she patted him and left him on guard. Absently, she noticed that she wasn’t as tired as usual. Apparently fertilizer was an excellent thing.

  She shuddered as the adrenalin faded. No, she wasn’t going to repeat that, no matter how well the trees grew. No encores.

  The downstairs was set up like hers with a bigger kitchen and a half bath, and she’d made a long table with benches and two open framed couches with removable cushions. The second level was separated into three rooms. The kid’s rooms had bunks and the master bedroom held a platform bed with a queen mattress, and there were two full bathrooms. For now, the sunroom was empty except for a ring of planting boxes filled with soil so the family could grow their own food.

  It was pretty basic, but clean and relatively safe…considering.

  “This is awesome!” Grigori said over and over. The garage was empty of anything but workbenches and shelving, but it had a small bathroom, a car pit and was well lit. The floor was wood, of course, but this would be a difficult tree to set on fire.

  “Glad you like it.” She yawned, not even trying to hide her fatigue. “I need a nap.”

  “I bet! You want a sandwich?” He chatted on the way to her tree and fixed lunch while she tried not to nod off. She barely had energy to eat, so he cleaned up while she curled up on her bed.

  “Remember you’re getting a haircut later,” he reminded as he tossed her dishrag in the sink.

  She mumbled an affirmative into her pillow, already half asleep.

  It must not have reassured him, because a moment later, he said, “I set an alarm on your phone. I’m putting it on the counter so you’ll have to get up to turn it off.”

  She grunted, and he let himself out.

  Chapter 5

  A buzzing sound jerked her out of sleep. Her heart raced as she tried to locate the source of the noise. She spotted her phone and put a hand to heart, then shambled over to it. “’lo?” she inquired groggily.

  “Juniper Rose Baily, are you letting your trees eat people?” her grandfather’s stern voice asked.

  “Ah…no?” she lied automatically, like a child caught being naughty. She rubbed her face, trying to wake up. “I mean…Grandpa? You don’t like phones.” Her grandfather wasn’t a fan of phones or television, and he never used computers. This had to be an emergency.

  “I borrowed one. I understand you’ve been letting your trees swallow people, granddaughter. I taught you better.”

  “I…they started it,” she stammered, and closed her eyes as she realized what she’d said. “I was under pressure,” she tried again. She got a glass of sweet tea from the fridge and chugged it, praying it would scrub the fatigue away.

  “Be that as it may, teaching your trees to feed on people is foolish. Do you want predatory aspen? I assure you, they are difficult to root out.” She could picture the disapproval on his face. His silver blue eyes would be narrowed, the gray, neatly trimmed beard a frame for his stern jaw. His white hair was cut short, but thick and often wind ruffled. It was summer, so he’d be wearing a sleeved shirt and trousers. Baily wasn’t his birth name, but when a man reached his age, he liked simplicity. She’d understand in a few centuries, he’d said.

  He also controlled Blue Wood, one of the most infamous forests in the world, a place so formidable, it defeated dragons. There were trees there that existed nowhere else, coaxed to life by his magic.

  He was many things, but to her he’d always be Grandpa Baily.

  “No, sir. I guess you saw the news?”

  “They showed your trees. They were impressive,” he added reluctantly. “But feeding them blood can give them ideas. It makes them strong, but you don’t want them to think they are in charge.

  “Fortunately, your forest is young. If you stop now, there should be little harm done.”

  “I see. I’m concerned about my latest tree now. Is it safe for tenants?” She described her day, ignoring a beep until it went away. She didn’t know how long it would be before she talked to her grandpa again, and this was important.

  “It should be. Make certain you commune with your trees and reinforce the way you wish them to protect you. You know you should do that anyway. It takes time to train a tree, but once done, they never forget. What is that sound?”

  Juniper grimaced. The caller was annoying her again. “It’s another caller on the other line.”

  “Answer it. I will wait.”

  She had so much more to ask him, but she reluctantly obeyed. “Hello? This is a bad time…”

  “We’ll be there in ten minutes. Please let us in,” Grigori said, his voice grim. “There was a fire.”

  She knew a priority when she heard one. “Do you need a doctor?”

  “No. We’ll be right there.”

  “See you soon,” she said, and quickly explained what was happening to her Grandpa.

  “Go. I will call you again,” he said, and hung up.

  Right. She grabbed her staff and
Twix, searching for monsters as she left the tree. There was a large rodent, so she speared it with a tree root and hid it under the soil. Unlike the cherry tree and boar incident, it didn’t count as feeding the tree, so she didn’t worry about it. She didn’t know any details, so she wasn’t sure what to plan for, but she ran through a list of things they might need. Water, shelter and food, check. She could make blankets… She needed to get a radio so she could listen to the emergency bulletins and news.

  Grigori’s family’s car was three colors, held together with bondo and luck. Grigori jumped out as it rolled slowly into Bramble Burn and started talking fast. “A dragon set the whole block on fire! Everyone in our apartment building made it out, but the fire is spreading downtown, F&R is busy and the shelters are filling up.”

  Juniper nodded to him and looked at his mother, Tatyana. “Are you all right? Does anyone need a doctor?” Grigori’s siblings peered in wonder at the trees, whispering in the back seat. Everyone smelled like smoke.

  “We are well, but we weren’t able to save much,” Tatyana said, coming closer to shake her hand. “The children are scared.” She looked scared. She looked at the Boar tree nervously, as if wondering if she dared take her family in there. With night coming, she didn’t have many choices.

  “I need the bathroom, mama,” a girl called from the backseat. She looked about twelve.

  “Right. Why don’t you drive the car into the shop and we’ll take inventory?” Juniper said, taking charge. “You can decide if you want to stay and we’ll go from there.” The tree opened the garage door and she pretended not to see the way Tatyana stiffened. She guarded the yard as the car slowly rolled inside and sent Twix to his stable. She entered the garage and closed the door as kids spilled out of the battered car, looking around curiously.

  Tatyana held the youngest girl’s hand as Grigori proudly led the tour. His siblings were thrilled to be in the famous tree, and even Tatyana relaxed as she got a look at the clean, spacious inside. She gulped a bit as the tree automatically closed shutters over the sunroom for the night, but nodded her approval.