“Where do we find a powerful immortal of our own?” Lynette asked.
“Where is the interview with Zoey Redbird and that human detective? The one that was a tribute to the fallen winged immortal named Kalona, brother to Erebus.”
“Oh, I know the one you’re talking about.” Lynette thumbed through the sheets of copied articles. “Zoey and the detective told his story.”
“And they explained why Neferet was able to kill an immortal. I remember that part well. Kalona gave away a piece of his immortality to that world’s Stark.” Neferet sipped her wine and then said sarcastically. “Knowing this Stark, I would say that Kalona made a bad trade. Anyway, I am quite certain that the Stark in our world has never been brought back from the dead by an immortal.”
“So, you think our world’s Kalona would be fully immortal.”
“I do, and if the version of him in that alternative world was willing to fight against their Neferet, then once awakened or called forth—or however it is done—he should be willing to fight again.”
“Ah, here’s the story.” Lynette pulled out several pages covered with a lengthy and what she considered a rather maudlin interview.
“Good, I didn’t finish reading it. Does it say how they called their Kalona?”
Lynette read through the questions and answers quickly until she found the section toward the end. “Here it is. Oh. Oh, no.”
“What?”
“Their Kalona was called forth from the earth by a prophecy fulfilled. Zoey is only specific about one aspect of it.” She looked up and met Neferet’s emerald gaze. “He was entombed in the earth at the House of Night in Tulsa, and the prophecy was one guarded by Cherokee Wise Women, one of whom is Zoey Redbird’s grandmother, Sylvia Redbird.”
“How interesting. It seems no matter the world, the destiny of the winged immortal is tied to the House of Night.” Neferet drummed her fingers on the arm of her plush chair. “What we need is our world’s version of the prophecy that will awaken Kalona.”
“But it’s guarded by Sylvia Redbird. I don’t think she’s going to give you that information.”
“No, she definitely won’t, but I know who will.” Neferet stood abruptly. “Dearest, wrap yourself in something against the cold and bring that tray of lovely fresh bread and jam. Let us go see if wee Denise will come to us again.”
Lynette stood, but touched Neferet’s arm gently. “My lady, I do not think you should call wee Denise specifically. She mentioned she was afraid of Oak. We don’t understand the sprite’s hierarchy. We have no idea how miserable Oak could make Denise’s new life. She could even harm her.”
Neferet patted her hand. “Your words are wise, as usual. I shall simply call to the sprites as if I have no preference in who answers.”
They hurried outside. It had stopped raining, but the stars were still obscured by low-hanging clouds and mist rolled off the dark loch. At the edge of the water, Neferet took the tray of bread and jam from Lynette and held it before her, projecting her voice powerfully out across the loch.
“Sprites of earth, air, water, and fire
there is a small task of you that I desire.
I ask you with payment fair
to answer a question with wisdom and care.”
Nothing happened for long enough that Lynette began to get worried, and then from the loch, a dozen or so water sprites lifted. One was larger than the others, about the size of a toddler. She was decidedly mermaid-like, with an opalescent tail and the torso of a buxom woman. Her hair was made of long ropes of seaweed and her abnormally large eyes were bluish gray—the color of the loch in daylight. She moved across the surface of the water in a strange mixture of hovering and swimming until she bobbed just a few feet from Neferet.
“I hear your call, she who is no longer High Priestess,
and have permission to answer you in place of my mistress.”
The sprite swam closer to shore, sniffing the air.
“’Tis a payment small, this is true
for such there is little I shall do.”
Neferet sounded utterly unconcerned.
“I merely have one request, and it is small.
I require the prophecy on how to call
An immortal named Kalona, whom I would find.
I need this help of the simplest kind
In exchange for treats sweet and fair,
I ask for only a little wisdom and care.”
As the sprite hesitated, Neferet added nonchalantly as she began to turn away,
“Perhaps I should wait for Oak to return.
I did not realize other sprites have so much yet to learn.”
The water sprite’s response was immediate.
“I accept your payment well and true,
And can easily accomplish this small task for you!”
“How lovely. Thank you.” Neferet turned and placed the tray on the loch. Instantly, it was pulled under the waves.
“Listen well,
for such a small price
I shall not tell and tell and tell.”
Lynette sat on the cold, wet rocks and quickly untucked the iPad she held wrapped within her cloak. As the sprite recited the prophetic poem, Lynette’s fingers danced across the keyboard.
“Ancient one sleeping, waiting to arise
When the dead joins with fire and water red
Son who is not—his word is key; the raven will devise
He shall hear the call from his sacrificial bed.
By the blood of she who is neither foe nor friend he is free.
Behold a terrible sacrifice to come—a beautiful sight,
Ruled by love they shall be.
The future will not kneel to her dark might.
Kalona’s return is not bittersweet
As he will be welcomed with love and heat.”
At the conclusion of the prophecy, the water sprite shot up into the air and then did a beautiful swan dive into the loch with the smaller sprites trailing her.
“Did you get all of that, dearest?”
Lynette finished the last line and then breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. “I’ve never been so grateful for my typing skills.”
“Well done!”
“Psst! My lady!” Wee Denise hovered in front of Neferet.
“Sweet wee Denise! Are you well?” Neferet asked.
“No time to talk—no time to tell.
Just know, ‘by the blood of she who is
