“Calli,” said Tanner, “I would like you to meet my teacher, Ni’eve du Blanc, Head of the Keepers and Clan du Blanc. Ni’eve, Calliope Jones.”
Ni’eve stepped forward. I switched my hold on Jessamyne’s dress and reached for the druidess’s offered hand.
“I am very glad to meet you,” I said, “and if you don’t do something about your daughter, I will.” I gave the ancient’s hand a gentle squeeze, stepped back, and shoved Jessamyne between us.
I could hear Tanner swallow. I didn’t care. Ni’eve’s forceful sigh, weighted by their mother and daughter interplay, brushed by Jessamyne, collapsing her at her feet. By the time the sigh reached me, it contained enough residual oomph to lift errant hairs away from my forehead.
Ni’eve set her jaw and lifted her chin. “Your friends, the caretakers of this orchard, are not well enough to make the trip here, to their home. I promise you they will be returned, with escorts, as soon as they have been deemed healed to the fullest extent of our capacities.”
Maritza stood, stepped away from the elegantly appointed table, and reached into the darkness behind her. Her arm disappeared then reappeared, her hand clasping the hand of yet another woman.
This one was shorter. A burnished metal crown of copper leaves and blood-colored stones circled a wild, blond mane that tumbled to the ground.
“You are Calliope Jones?” she asked, her full lips revealing neat, pale ivory teeth.
“I am. And you are…”
“Idunn,” she answered, stepping closer. “And I believe you have my apples.”
Chapter 25
Tanner slid calloused fingers under my chin and gave me a nudge, the only indication my mouth might be hanging open. Knowing me, I had been gawking at the Norse goddess for an impolite amount of time. I clenched my teeth.
“So?” Idunn’s uplifted gaze danced with delight as she extended her arm, palm up and fingers spread. “Let’s have it.”
I shook my head, stumbled into Tanner’s body, and mumbled something inane and undecipherable to Idunn.
“Well, then.” The leaves in the goddess’s crown wavered. “Tanner, perhaps you know the whereabouts of my apples?”
Was she giggling? I patted the air behind me, searching for Tanner’s hand and discovering no one had thought to hand him a pair of pants. Or even a spare cloth napkin. I shut my eyes and groaned.
Idunn’s laugh rolled up from her belly, and when I opened my eyes, the top of her head was at my nose.
“Where’s the pouch?” Tanner asked, whispering into my ear and positioning himself firmly behind me. I couldn’t blame him. The leaves on Idunn’s crown were pointy, and her laughter and whatever else was going on with her growth spurt had nudged her crown to a precarious angle.
“I left it at the house,” I said. “It’s safe.”
“Can you reach Christoph, have him bring it here?”
I tilted my head, leaned into Tanner’s chest, and tried to keep my voice low. “I can call him to me, but that’s it.”
“Then one of us is going to have to go get it.”
Maritza the merciful tapped a gold-plated spoon against a teacup.
“May I pour for anyone while we await the appearance of the missing objects?” Setting the cup on a saucer, she offered one chair to Idunn and one to Ni’eve.
“I must decline.” Ni’eve smoothed the front of her embroidered and embellished robe. “I have been remiss in my duties, and the sooner I have my daughter home, the sooner we can begin to repair the damage she has wrought.” The druidess, for all her titles and regal bearing, was also a mother. Sweeping her arm to encompass where Jessamyne lay unconscious, she asked, “Maritza? Could you assist me, please?”
Maritza saw to pouring a cup of tea for Idunn then pulled her needle and thread out of the air. “May I have your shawl?”
The length of heavy apple-red silk gracing Ni’eve’s shoulders floated toward Maritza. As her audience watched, she began to stitch. I tiptoed backward until I felt the doorway to the underland brush against my shoulders.
Slipping between the wide strips of cloth, I drank in the sharp bite of the night air and the stars overhead before noticing the field was empty. I reminded myself my sons were safe, the LaFleur Fae had proven themselves capable, and Meribah was in a cage soldered closed with Maritza’s magic. I would hear the story of what happened to everyone else once this next part was sorted.
The three feathers Christoph pulled from his wings were in my pocket. I had to clear my head to remember what he said about summoning him.
One feather means you need my help.
I tucked the end of one feather between my left thumb and the ring, brought the other ring to join its mate, and waited. Christoph had said I should bury the feather after the summoning, but he’d neglected to mention what would happen when skin, metal, and feather all touched in unison.
Because a handful of Magical beings had spoken to me inside my head, I pictured the object—Tanner’s pouch—and the destination—the underland—and my default favorite, a glowing pink light. Inside that light, the rings twinkled to match the stars, and my fingers and the feather glowed. I saw my bones and the inner structure of the feather. The glow deepened to a rosy red, the picture in my head snapped off, and the feather floated to the ground.
I shook out my tingling fingers, pressed the feather into the soil with my toes, and waited. Low voices in conversation reached me from behind the curtained door to the underland. Crickets and tree frogs raised their voices. Or maybe I was quiet enough on the inside I could appreciate them going about their
