She picked up the doll that had spoken in my mother’s voice, wrapped her in a similar fashion, and gave her to me. Standing, she picked up the bits of calico that had protected the dolls and rewrapped the remaining two. The look in her eyes when she finally stopped and faced me was grave. Candles sputtered around us. Distant birdcalls couldn’t lighten the mood.
“I will take these two,” she said, pointing to the Noémi and Meribah dolls. “These other two have need of a night together, preferably on your altar.” She patted the bundles in my arms. “Create a place of beauty for them, Calliope. Bring in flowers and food. Light candles. They need to talk.”
“Then what should I do?” I asked.
“We wait. But not for long.” L’Runa worried at her lower lip. “I want to consult Maritza to confirm what was said here.” Maritza Brodeur was a witch, and a professor of Necromantic Studies. I’d seen her raise two dead hidden folk after joining their severed heads to their exhumed bodies and get them to speak. If anyone could extract more from the dolls, it was her.
“Before Christoph arranges to have this soil removed,” L’Runa continued, “I would like to perform a banishing.”
“Why?” I asked, interrupting her extended pause.
“Because it is time to once and for all remove every physical and incorporeal trace of Meribah Flechette from your land. What she did to your aunt was unforgiveable.”
“Can you help me understand what she did? I heard the words and I’ve always felt—”
“Meribah was precocious. Her Fae blades, the ones that form from living Fae bones, the blades they train themselves to release and retract at will, had formed early. Meribah decided to test her blades on Noémi’s newly formed bond with the Kodiak bear that had become your aunt’s familiar.” L’Runa sliced the air with a downward stroke of her hand and swayed in place. Her pupils widened. “They were girls, coming into their gifts yet not ready for mentoring, unaware of their strengths and incapable of holding their emotions in check.
“Meribah was jealous of Noémi, jealous of Genevieve’s innocent adoration. When the older girls came down here, they didn’t know Genevieve was following them.”
Take her.
Hide her.
Protect her.
Bury her.
“Meribah struck at Noémi, damaged her fledgling connection to her daemon, and turned her wrath on Genevieve when she saw the younger girl had tagged along.”
L’Runa took in a long breath and blew it out. “Years later, when Genevieve showed up with you, the three of them returned here, to the scene of the first crime. Like your mother, you were curious and though you were told to not follow, you did.
“Your mother brought secrets with her—secrets she did not share fully, at least not down here for the soil to record. Meribah wanted whatever she was hiding, and Noémi tried to warn your mother against entrusting anything of value to the Fae.”
L’Runa rubbed her upper arms and placed her right hand over heart. “I said this before, and it bears repeating and acknowledging. There is so much sorrow in here. So much.”
“Will the banishing keep Meribah beyond the wards?”
“Yes,” L’Runa said. “The ritual will prevent her and anyone else whose blood lies here from breaching the wards, whether they try above or below ground.”
I gave a silent thanks to the skills and talents of my magical friends.
“My grandfather will be off-island all weekend with Wes and the teenagers,” I said, holding the two dolls closer to my heart and cupping the backs of their heads. I couldn’t bear to look at them, nor could I bear to not have them in my arms.
“Then we shall make arrangements for next week.” L’Runa peeled her attention away from me and glanced around the cellar. “I think you should go and settle those two. I will close the ceremony and gather my things, once I have opened the circle.” She bestowed a loving look at the dolls in my arms and sighed. “I didn’t think I was going to have to part with these beauties so soon, but they are yours now, Calliope. May you find comfort in them.”
“So mote it be,” I whispered. “So mote it be.”
Chapter 6
Stepping out of the cellar with the straw-stuffed dolls pressed to my chest, I was taken aback at the audacity of the cloudless sky. I made it to my bedroom and cleared a space atop my bureau. By the time I’d washed my hands and face of the smell from underneath the house, everyone was inside. I darted to my bedroom to change my clothes. Tanner was lying on my bed, ankles crossed, reading a book.
“Hey,” he said, his voice soft and concern in his gaze. “How are you? I got the sense you wanted to be alone.”
“You’re a smart man,” I said, crossing to my closet.
“Want to talk?”
I shook my head. Stray water droplets from repeatedly splashing water on my face slid down the back of my neck. “Later. After dinner.”
I was torn between joining Tanner on my bed or tending to the dolls. A little girl’s longing for answers won out over lust. I hadn’t done much more than set the handsewn figures atop my bureau. L’Runa had instructed me to take more care than that.
There was a worn but clean pair of handknit socks in a basket in my closet. I tucked one doll in each, and rolled down the tops, fashioning makeshift sleeping bags. The dolls didn’t really bend at the waist. I propped them standing side by side, with their backs to the mirror, and attached the seal pin to my mother’s doll and the bear pin to Little Calliope.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, reaching for the door handle. I slipped out before Tanner could ask me where I was going or what I was doing.
In the kitchen, I found a
