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They are so restrictive, so binding, so not like fur. Well, except for my Abigail’s bathrobe.” Xena lifted her arm and sniffed at the fluffy, well-worn robe. “It makes me feel as if my dear girl is hugging me.”

“That’s really nice, Xena.” Mercy curled her feet up under her and made herself comfortable in the space between her sister and Xena before she carefully blew on her own steaming chocolate.

The three of them sipped their drinks silently for a few minutes, each lost in her own thoughts, until Hunter spoke up.

“So, how do we kill the Cyclops?”

Xena tossed back her magnificent hair and said, “Killing the body it is inhabiting will be easy.”

Mercy’s throat closed and she put her half-empty mug down on the grimoire-laden coffee table. “I don’t think killing anyone will be easy—not even someone possessed by an eyeball-eating monster.”

“Kitten, as the guardian of the Egyptian gate told you, the human is already dead. What you will be killing is a reanimated body a Cyclops is using as a disguise. You must get over this foolish human squeamishness if you are to have a chance at vanquishing it.”

“I agree with you, Xena,” said Hunter. “But you have to understand that Mercy and I will see a human—and maybe even a friend or at least an acquaintance—when we track him down.”

“Him?” Mercy asked.

Hunter nodded. “You were too freaked to notice, but those were really big boot prints—like someone who worked outside a lot would wear. It’s probably a large man.”

“Great…” Mercy muttered.

“It is great, kittens! You already know three things about the Cyclops’s skin suit.” She lifted her long, slender fingers that were tipped by sharp, perfectly kept nails, and ticked off, “First, the person will be a star—symbolically not literally. Second, the person is a male. And third, he probably works, or spends a lot of time, out of doors.”

“That is a lot more than we knew this morning.” Hunter spoke firmly, confidently.

Mercy nodded and tried to sound more positive. “Yeah, that’s true. I’ll quit being such a downer about it. It’s just really intimidating to think about needing to kill a person and a monster. Together.”

Xena shook a finger in front of Mercy’s face. “No, no, no. You probably will not kill them together. Well, unless you push them through the Greek gate and seal it behind them. Then the body will crumble and continue to decompose, and the Cyclops will be banished back to Tartarus.”

Hunter blew out a long, sighing breath. “So, that’s the best way to get rid of it?”

“Indeed,” said Xena. She paused and lapped delicately at the cocoa before continuing, “Otherwise you take the risk of the Cyclops killing someone else and hiding inside his or her body.”

“But before we even think about how we’re gonna do all of that, don’t we need to strengthen the gates?” said Mercy. “I mean, it’s already super awful. The Fenrir caused Mom’s death. Then the Cyclops has caused the deaths of at least three people—including whomever he’s hiding inside. Think of how bad it would be if even just one more monster broke through another gate.”

“It would be terrible,” said Hunter.

“And very inconvenient.” Xena dabbed her mouth with the back of her hand and then licked the drops of liquid chocolate from her skin. “As Goode witches you can open the gates anytime you wish by simply commanding them, so being rid of the Cyclops—once you figure out who he is and somehow get him to the Greek tree—should not be difficult. But it will be extremely difficult if you have to battle several murderous monsters at the same time.”

“So, do either of you have a clue how to fix the trees? What Hunter and I did today obviously didn’t work—or at least it’s not working fast enough.”

Hunter frowned into her hot chocolate. “The directions on the insecticide said it could take a week to ten days for the worms to die.”

Xena leaned across Mercy and stroked Hunter’s arm gently before she said, “Oh, kitten, I believe if the mundane part of your spell was going to work the magical part would have been effective today, if even just a little.”

“Khenti said he noticed no difference on his side of the gate.” Mercy picked at her lip. “And, truthfully, I didn’t notice anything being any better on our side, either.”

Hunter shook her head. “No, neither did I.”

Mercy squared her shoulders and looked from Xena to her sister. “Do either of you have any idea at all about why the trees got sick to begin with?”

Hunter shrugged. “I’m as clueless as you are about that.”

Mercy chewed the inside of her cheek to keep from blurting the thought that had been swirling around and around in her mind. It could be because you chose a god and brought a guy to a girl party!

“Forgive me, kittens. I am only a familiar and not the witch our Abigail was. I wish I knew what was sickening the trees, but I do not.”

“It’s so frustrating that none of us knows what’s wrong with them,” said Hunter.

“Well, what that means is that you need to look deeper and create a stronger spell to heal them,” said Xena.

“That sounds logical and even like it should be easy, but Mercy’s been going through those old grimoires like she’s cramming for finals and what we did today was all she came up—”

“Wait! I have an idea.” Mercy leaned forward, digging through the piles of grimoires. “Xena, did you pull the copies of Sarah’s grimoire?”

“You mean the original Sarah Goode?” Xena asked, perking up, too.

“Yeah, that’s exactly who I mean.”

“Actually, I did.” Xena pointed one long-tipped finger at a book that rested behind the others. It looked more like a fat folder than the other leather-bound journals. “It’s good to see that my feline intuition has not left me—even while I’m in human form. It told me you might need copies of the most ancient grimoires.”

Mercy grabbed the folder and sat back against the couch’s

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