Staring at the emptiness stretching in front of me brought me a measure of calm. Forest flowed in dense patches to my left and to my right. The closest burial mound rose in the deepening navy blue light, with the portal tree adding its inky black silhouette to the scene.
I found a measure of peace in that moment, and as I reached for another one just like it, Christoph’s outstretched form parted the air in front of me.
“I came as soon as I could, Calliope.” His wings snapped as he brought them in. He took hold of my upper arms, brought me to his chest, and kissed the top of my head. “Harper’s stable, Thatcher’s gone on a bit of a rant, and Kaz has everything under control.” He leaned back to assess my face.
“Did you happen to bring the pouch?” I asked, giving him a hopeful smile.
“I…” His brow furrowed. “I wondered if that was what you meant. Did you attempt to send me a message when you sent the single feather summons?”
I nodded. “I did. But I couldn’t figure out how to tell you where to find the pouch.”
“I can go back and get it,” he said.
An idea was dancing around the edge of my awareness, too new and radical for me to voice. “I’ll get it. Promise me you won’t step into the underland without me.” I squeezed Christoph’s hand. “Please. I want to see the look on your face when you see who’s in there.”
Christoph indulged my request and waved me off.
I hightailed it to the portal tree and stopped as its branches crowned my head. I pocketed a few stones, whipped out my wand, held it much like I had my grandfather’s feather, and pictured the crabapple next to my garden.
Nothing.
I pictured it harder, made myself remember the smell of its blossoms and the feel of its bark and even the tang of its fruit in homemade apple cider. I breathed over my thumbs and my rings. The filigree began to glow.
“Take me home,” I whispered. Pressure, suction, and nausea. I clutched the crabapple, dashed to the front steps, and ran up and into the house.
“Great-grandpa, is that you?” Thatcher hollered from the second floor.
“It’s Mom,” I answered. I struggled to keep my feet pointed in the direction of my bedroom, not tearing up the stairs to touch my sons. I had to finish this task. The pouch was where I’d asked Wes to conceal it. One more time, I slipped the double cords over my neck, rubbed my thumb over its worn surface, and yelled up the stairs, “I’ll be back soon. I love you!”
Leaning against the crabapple, I tried to catch my breath as I emptied my pockets and repeated the experiment. The return trip was every bit as nausea-inducing, but my stomach was empty. I arrived at Christoph’s side out of breath.
“Ready?” he asked, chuckling at my discomfort.
“Ready.”
Christoph’s wings snagged on the strips of fabric in the doorway to the underland, adding a touch of drama to our entrance. He sucked in a breath when he noticed the cage and its contents and rubbed his hands together when our eyes adjusted to the scene at the tea table.
The bird-man straightened his spine, stepped closer to the women, and bent at the waist to acknowledge Maritza. Pivoting, he then bowed to Idunn and kissed the hand she offered.
The goddess rose from her seat, her arm stiff and her fingers curled over Christoph’s. “Christoph. Aviator and rogue of hearts. Pardon me for keeping my distance. I do not count raptors among my favorite birds, though I have no quarrel with you.”
Blush brushed her cheeks and just as quickly faded as she released his hand and turned to Tanner.
Mercifully, someone had decided the tablecloth would serve a higher purpose as a toga of sorts. Tanner fumbled for my fingers and tugged me against his side.
“Tanner Didier Marechal, student of Ni’eve du Blanc. You and I have business to finish.” Idunn stepped toward us. Her facial features elongated as she continued to grow in height. “You signed a binding contract, and try as you might to run from your vow, the time has come to make this right.” She turned to me. “Before we depart, there is one thing I wish to show you.” Idunn gestured for me to come closer to her. “Tanner, you too.”
Idunn was now at least six feet tall, with golden-white hair trailing over her shoulders and down her back, all the way to her ankles. She lifted the cords of the necklace from underneath the shirt I had neglected to change and pulled the well-worn leather strips through her fingers.
“You have guarded this well,” she said, speaking to Tanner while cupping the pouch in both palms. “Almost as well as you have guarded your heart. I have seen your dedication to keeping the sacred objects within safe and on your body at all times.” Clear stones—icy diamonds, pale blue aquamarine, pink tourmaline—set in delicate rings, glittered on every one of her fingers. Idunn winked at me and smiled. “Unless, of course, you knew that to wear this into certain situations would endanger its contents. Calliope would have been my choice too.”
I stood a little taller, relieved the Norse goddess wasn’t there to school us on magical object etiquette. Or punish Tanner for his choosing me.
“There is one thing.” Idunn giggled softly and lowered her voice for my and Tanner’s hearing only. “Perhaps more than one thing, but for the sake of brevity, I shall say ‘one thing.’” She returned to speaking to the group gathered in the underland. “There is one thing I neglected to mention when I tasked this druid with guarding the seeds to my beloved apple trees.” She lifted one loop, drew it over my head, and drew the other loop over Tanner’s, forcing the two of us to stand chest to chest. “Only the beating of true hearts in tandem can awaken the seeds.”
Idunn placed one
