“Calli, this is not good news.” Tanner set his knife across his plate. “This could indicate that he—and possibly his inner circle—have been here since at least mid-July.”
“That’s pretty much what Malvyn said.” I pondered the countertop. “After you left and Christoph took Harper to the Northwest Territories, I took a leave of absence from my job in order to catch up on my studies. I’m starting to think I should go back.”
“Why’s that?”
My gaze met his. “I’ve gotten the sense from my assistant, Kerry—who still works there—that my temporary replacement has lopsided ideas about what an employee of the Agricultural Commission should be doing.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning he’s acting as though he’s more interested in mass enforcement of obscure regulations than dealing with the farmers and orchardists on a case-by-case basis.”
“Do you have any reason to believe he has a connection to Odilon?”
I shook my head. “No. He seemed reasonable the day I met him. But I hate not having my finger on the pulse, you know?”
Tanner nodded. I continued, “Now that I’m aware there’s a much larger population of Magicals on the island—and that there’s more to our orchards and farmlands than apple trees and greenhouses—I feel that much more responsible for keeping my eyes on everything and everybody.”
“It’s hard for me to believe that Odilon traveled here from France for anything but business.”
I agreed, adding, “Sallie mentioned Meribah and Adelaide were involved with him.”
“Involved, as in doing business together?”
I shook my head. “Involved, as in a sexual relationship.”
“That puts a different spin on things.” Tanner moved crumbs around his plate while he chewed his toast. “Meribah and Adelaide are confined to their property in Victoria. Where’s your ex-husband? And his brother?”
“Doug’s in Vancouver, receiving psychiatric care. And no one seems to know where Roger is.”
“That he’s missing worries me,” Tanner said, moving to clear the table. I took the seat vacated earlier by one of the kids, interlaced my fingers in front of me, and pressed the pads of my thumbs together. The druid wiped the wood with a damp rag and settled into his chair. “I’m listening,” he said.
“You and I met because we had both received anonymous complaints at our offices about the Pearmains and their supposedly nonorganic practices. We showed up to investigate those claims on the same day.”
“That’s correct. Best complaint I ever followed up on.” Tanner leaned over and kissed my cheek. “But that’s not why you’re bringing this up.”
I darted a sideways glance, returned to studying my thumbs, and said, half-jokingly, “Stop distracting me before I lose my train of thought. We know there are active and dormant portals on the island, and other elements related to transportation. I think we should go to my office. After hours.” My thumbs agreed. I looked up to see what Tanner thought of my plan. “No one asked me to turn in my keys and I didn’t volunteer.”
“You pretty much read my mind.”
“Does this mean you’re up to a little breaking and entering?” I asked, taking in the eager expression on his face.
“Between the arrival of Clan Vigne, the actions of Clan Flechette, the deaths of the hidden folk across the Pacific Northwest and—” he thumped the table for emphasis “—and a temporary employee of the province making noise about properties known to have magic? The implications are too big to ignore. I suspect the Fae have caught wind of the natural resources here on the island—and maybe across British Columbia—and they’re readying themselves for a campaign of acquisition. If Odilon makes it clear he is staying, it could mean that Clan Vigne is behind the murders or that they support the Flechettes’ actions.”
I pondered the long-term ramifications of that scenario and others. I didn’t like any of them, not one iota.
Christoph stomped his boots on the porch and came in through the doorway, a faded denim shirt rolled to his elbows and his wings very much intact. He and Tanner hugged, thumping the other’s back twice, before my grandfather asked, “Care to strap on a tool belt and give me a hand with a couple of home-improvement projects?”
“I’d be happy to put in a few hours of honest work.”
“Good. I could use help framing up the area underneath the back deck. I have a mind to build a work space where the boys and I can mess around with magic.” Christoph paused and pointed his finger at me. “You, too, Calli-lass. You’ll be needing a proper laboratory, with benches and burners and distillation equipment. The kind of stuff that’s best situated outside the house.”
“Got any ideas for what we can do with the rest of that area?” I asked. The cellar, with its dirt floor and disturbing memories, hadn’t been touched since August. “I mean, once L’Runa and I make another pass through and gather whatever else she needs.”
Weeks ago, House had directed me to the old root cellar, where memories of blood and discord had been captured within clumps of dirt. L’Runa, a witch elder and instructor in the Basics of Witchcraft course, specialized in blood magic. She’d performed a cursory round of testing on the soil. We had yet to set a date to explore further.
Christoph rubbed at his chin and gazed out the sliding glass door to the deck. “We could expand the laboratory, create a workshop for multiple magical disciplines. Would take a lot of extra work. We’d have to remove a layer of soil, build a moisture barrier and pour concrete, but let me ponder.” He headed down the hall toward his room. “Tanner, give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready to show you around.”
“What if you and L’Runa start to excavate and find there’s more evidence in the soil?” Tanner leaned against the counter and voiced the very question nagging at me.
I rinsed the coffee carafe, deep in the memories of what I had felt in the space below the house when my cousins had
