“You can name, Calliope, and with that naming ability, you can freeze an opponent,” said Rose. She and L’Runa had arrived without anyone of us noticing. “Though not for long.”
“How did you get in here all quiet-like?” asked Belle, pushing herself off the couch. She tiptoed around the map and embraced her two friends.
“We employed no magical means. You, however, are deeply engaged in whatever it is you are planning.” L’Runa bent, gathered her skirt to her legs, and traced the pathway Wes had drawn, from the farmhouse to the area with the burial mounds. “Rose, look at this. Did you know we had an underland on this island?”
“I did not.”
“It is rare that something with the potential to devour magic would escape your notice.”
“I’ve been busy,” Rose said. She looked at me. “Calliope, a word?”
I followed Rose and L’Runa up the staircase to the second floor. Rose led us around the landing to a spacious workroom filled with Abigail’s sewing projects. She cleared a stack of quilt pieces from the work table and gestured to L’Runa. “Let’s have a look at the soil samples Calliope collected.”
I went to stop her, thinking Rose’s timing was way off and the soil samples merely a distraction from where my attention needed to be. By the time a coherent objection was working its way from my brain to my mouth, L’Runa had unrolled a rectangular piece of absorbent paper. On it she had drawn a grid, and in each square was a clear brush mark. On top of the brush marks were dustings of soil, and most of the samples had spots of color. Watery reds, browns, blues, greens, and more.
“I first use a substance to hold the sample to the testing paper,” said L’Runa. “Once the sample has adhered, I brush a liquid over each sample that encourages the magic-based elements to separate. By elements, I mean grains of sand, bits of organic material, whatever the eye can and cannot detect.”
Her methods mirrored the ones I employed when testing soil for nonapproved additives, minus the test tubes. Yesterday, L’Runa had hinted field work would be part of the module on blood. I held on to my front row seat.
“What you are seeing here is those elements rearranged into their distinct base grouping. For example, the red is human blood, the blue is Fae, the brown is shifter, green is witch. Using a magnifying glass—or better yet, a microscope—I can then determine the percentage of overlapping colors. For instance, equal parts red and green tell me we have half-human, half-witch. Once I have this breakdown, I use a three-dimensional stacking method to estimate the age of the element. The most telling samples came from this area.” L’Runa pointed to the squares that coincided with the corner of the cellar farthest from the door. “They tell a consistent story, in terms of age. Thirty-five years ago, a Fae female, a witch female, and a witch female with shamanic training shed blood at the same time.”
No wonder the cellar had always given me cause to shake in my shoes.
“Another thing I can tell you is the two witches were related,” she said.
“And what about the bear?” I asked.
L’Runa crossed her arms, sighed, then leaned forward.
“Decomposed bear fur showed up all through the samples.” She swept her hand across the entire piece of paper until she hovered over an area closer to the entranceway to the cellar. “Especially here. No bones, no blood saturation. Simply fur.” She placed her other hand on my shoulder. “Someone who lived on the land for a long time spent part of their life as a bear or had a strong connection to bear energy. Which leads me back to the witch with shamanic training.”
“I have no idea who that could be,” I said. “My memories of my mother do not feel connected to bears at all.”
“What about the two visitors at your Blood Ceremony?” Rose said.
“I’m pretty certain the wolf was Tanner.” And the other, less distinguishable presence could very well have been Bear. “Did you find anything else?”
L’Runa shook her head. “No, not on this go-round. Had I more time and larger samples, there is more I could do, including your request to work with memory. If some mystery in here needs solving, I can come to your house and work on site.”
“Thank you for doing this on extremely short notice,” I said. “And so you both know, we’re expecting a confrontation with Fae from the Flechette family here tonight.”
Rose turned away from the table, strode to the door and back. Her skin was clammy where her fingers touched my wrist. “My magic is defensive, Calliope. I can’t meet the Fae head on, but if you need me to stay in case anyone gets hurt, I can do that much.”
Downstairs, the house was mostly quiet. Belle, Néne, Sil, and their protectors were in or near the kitchen, preparing food. I ducked out the front door to check my car. The battery had another thirty minutes before it finished charging, and in my rush to get off my knees and out of the dirt, I’d forgotten to clean up the remnants of my lunch and unplug my cell phone.
Messages. Of course there were messages. Rose letting me know she was on her way. A voice mail from my one of my cousins, who would only call if my aunt was deteriorating.
Or had died. I bounced my forehead against the steering wheel. Having my grandfather appear in my life wouldn’t balance out losing the one person who connected me to my mother. My hand shook as I dialed in to listen to the message.
“Calli, it’s Clyde. Listen, I know this sounds crazy, but Mom has been super lucid all day and she insisted I call
