Something hot ran down her cheek, and Caroline realized that she was crying. "She asked for me. Said she needs to talk to Bright Waters. That's what she calls me."
Aunt Alice took a deep breath and let it out. "Then you have to go. Kate and I will muddle through."
Then she stood and thought for a moment. "How long will it take you to get packed?"
"Ten minutes. Left most of my stuff out there when I got your call." She wrinkled her nose, remembering. "Including a couple of loads of dirty laundry from the field."
"Okay. Get at it. I'll call Dennis Levesque — he told me he's got some errands need doing up to Naskeag Falls, looking for another excuse to justify the drive. Might as well drop you off at the airport. We'll need a briefing from you before you go, whatever you've managed to dig out of those Morgan archives."
Damned House again, organizing the entire township for its ends. At least this time it was helping her instead of using her. She glanced back at the loaf pans, waiting on the shelf of the stove.
Aunt Alice touched her gently on the arm. "I'll take care of the bread. Second rising, yes? I was baking bread in that stove before you were born. Same recipe. Get packed."
*~*~*
Caroline settled into one of the Eames chairs in the parlor, took a deep breath to reset her brain from the packing, and nodded to Aunt Kate and Aunt Alice. Stone circle, that was the topic, keep it short and to the point. She was running on minus minutes, unless she wanted to wait six hours for the next plane.
"Dentis diaboli, sometimes just dentis. Couple of times they refer to dens lapideus. Mostly they don't talk about it at all."
Kate shifted in her chair and didn't ask any questions. Rather pointedly didn't ask. Caroline gave herself a mental swat above one ear and backed up.
Her aunt knew Latin and had graduated from college. Kate didn't, hadn't. Hell, she'd never even graduated from high school — Aunt Alice once said something about Kate punching out her stepfather and leaving home, had her fill of hypocrisy and fundamentalist bullshit, got a job to support herself. She'd never stopped learning stuff, though, just most of it wasn't academic. School of hard knocks, post-grad course.
"Dens, dentis — tooth, teeth. Like in 'dentist.' Anyway, 'The Devil's Teeth.' Sort of an editorial opinion, I guess, given we're talking about a bunch of tight-assed Celtic Catholic priests. Sometimes 'The Stone Teeth.' One single reference to 'Dentis draconum' in the depths of all their mangled Latin, 'Teeth of the Dragon.' Anyway, that's your stone circle. First reference is within a few years of the earliest Morgan archives.
"Anyway," she went on, "the Welsh community split almost as soon as they arrived. Not just a cat-fight over religion — it seems to have been as much a farmer-sailor thing as Pagan-Christian, with Old Believers moving inland for better soil and less fog and the seamen staying down here by the bay. The farmers set up your stone circle and used it to strengthen their bond with the land."
Yes, the big woman would make a damned convincing Mother Earth. Talking with stone, talking with wood, drawing on all the power of Stonefort Island and the peninsula, strong and straightforward and silent. No wonder the stone circle called to her for help. Aunt Alice glanced over at Kate, nodding to herself, apparently thinking along the same lines.
"Naskeags kept moving with the seasons like we always had, inland and coast, no reason to choose between the two groups. We could learn different things from each." Caroline paused again, just making a connection. "The Woman stayed here once the Welshmen came, guarding our spring. Maybe that's why we don't have any lore about the circle?"
Alice shifted her gaze from Kate to Caroline. "Maybe. There's some chants you haven't learned yet, fights between the Woman and the priests. I'm guessing the Old Believers slipped between the lines in there, references that meant one thing to their century and another thing to us. One talks about stones that dance and drum. Maybe that wasn't just metaphor . . . ." Alice shook herself. "No time for that, no need right now. You've got a plane to catch."
Caroline checked her watch. "Yeah, and two hours to clear security, with a last-minute one-way ticket and brown skin. Instant terrorist. Got a bomb I can borrow? Anyway, after a few centuries they stop mentioning the other village. Don't know if it was a run of bad winters or a Mohawk raid or what. Couple of new family names show up in the births and christenings and deaths, but that's the most of it. Silence."
And they sat in silence. Thinking about Roanoke Colony, Maine style, a village that faded out of history, leaving a ring of stones on a barren ridge and some tumbled walls deep in the woods. Thinking about the Greenland Vikings and the Little Ice Age.
Finally Kate stirred. "I think I might want to check the tax maps and deed registry, find out who owns that land. I'll step across the hall, next time I'm up to the courthouse."
That drew a blink and sudden stare from Aunt Alice, and then she nodded slowly as if something had touched off a spark in her head. "Don't faint if you find your family name attached to it. Didn't your Uncle Ray own a bunch of timberland up that way? Bet your truck already knew that road before you ever drove it."
Tires crunched gravel out in the driveway, Caroline's ride to the airport. She grabbed her carry-on and headed out the door. Turning back for a moment, she dumped her Morgan notes on the
