Free The Void (Witching Savannah Book 3) by J. D. Horn

grow smoother, nothing more than a furrowed oval. The spirit fought the summons, evidently preferring damnation to facing its angry daughter. Another rush, another pull of gravity tugged at us, bringing us all within arm’s length of each other. Without willing it, my hands reached out, one clasping Abby’s hand, the other Iris’s. We fell silent as a shock of energy shot through us.
    “I said show yourself.” Iris’s words came out almost like a growl, and my heart jumped at the sight of her face. Her lovely clear eyes glowed with a red light. The pupil and iris had been erased, leaving only two shining rubies. “Return.”
    The gravity that had been centered on the shape at the middle of our circle suddenly reversed, repulsing us, knocking Ellen and Abby on their backsides. I was able to keep to my feet, but the wind had been knocked out of me. As I struggled to reclaim my breath, the shape in the center continued its metamorphosis. It was clearly in the shape of a human head, but the skin of bruised quicksilver remained mirrorlike. I could see my own features warped in its reflection. I was reminded of the horrid chandelier my mother had created from the heads of those who had stopped being of any other use to her. I’d lost my mother to this kind of magic, I would not lose Iris.
    “What have you done?” Ellen asked Iris as Abby helped her back to her feet.
    We all looked to Iris, and I breathed a sigh of relief to see her eyes had returned to normal. Then I felt a wave of anger. She knew better than to invite this kind of dark magic into herself, into our home.
    I didn’t focus on her for long, though, as it was impossible to ignore the floating cranium at the center of the library. Its eyes opened, but they too shone smooth and reflective; there was no difference between the composition of the eyes and the lids that had covered them. Its lips separated slowly, a thin film of bluish mercury covering the mouth, then popping inward like an imploding balloon.
    “My girls, my beautiful daughters, are you to be my greatest torment?” The voice that came from the form had no intonation; it sounded flat, nearly mechanical. No, worse than that, it had been robbed of all hope. Still, it was clear the voice did not belong to a man; it resembled a woman’s soft alto.
    “Mama?” Ellen blanched. She broke the circle and approached the suspended figure, nearly touching it, but stopping shy of actual contact.
    Iris walked a complete ring around the form. “Where is he? Was he too much of a weakling to face us himself?”
    “Your father is not here. Only I. I am alone.”
    Ellen fell to her knees before the chrome apparition. “Mama, I have missed you so much.” The look of wonder on her face told me she didn’t give a damn about Iris’s intended interrogation. “What happened, Mama? They said you ran the car off the road on purpose.” This was news to me.
    Ellen’s question was met by silence then a heartrending moan. “No choice. I had no choice.”
    Abby had moved softly around the edge of the room to get a better view of the entity’s face. The quicksilver face took a moment to register our presence, focusing first on Abby then turning toward me. Rather than looking at me dead on, she seemed confused by something on the periphery of her vision. “What kind of magic is this?”
    Iris lowered her head in shame. “I’m sorry, Mama, I know it was wrong to use blood magic . . .”
    “No,” she said and turned her empty eyes on me. “This girl. She’s wrong.”
    A touch on my shoulder nearly caused me to jump out of my skin. I looked back over my shoulder to find Maisie had come into the room unnoticed. I remembered that she had been resting. She wore a gray oversized T-shirt. Her hair was mussed. The room flashed with a pop then darkened. The smell of ozone wafted around us.
    “I told you to stay in your room,” Abby chastised her, but only mildly. She pulled Maisie away from me, trying to maneuver her