I warmed to her praise. “Have you seen these before?”
She worried at her lower lip and shook her head. “Most witches use natural materials in their spell-making. Sorcerers—as I’m sure you’ve seen with Malvyn—can add spells to metals. Glass is made from natural materials yet requires intense heat for its creation.” She poked at the shards and balls with the end of a pencil. “But I’m not convinced this is glass. Where exactly did you recover these?”
“I portaled from the crabapple tree near my garden to another tree, in a very different place. Leaves were piled all around the base and I could see they covered these things that looked like white bricks, only they were slightly sparkly, like stone that has a lot of mica in it. The leaves on the ground were—” I had to close my eyes in order to picture everything. “The leaves on the shorter, twisted trees were all white. The leaves on the tall trees, which were perfectly straight, were…black, I think, and the leaves on the ground were reddish-black, like the sky, only darker.”
“You’re saying the color scheme of this place was black, white, and red?” she asked.
“Yes. Including a body of water, which I didn’t get anywhere close to.”
“Nigredo. Abledo. Rubedo. The stages of alchemical change.” L’Runa stared at me, barely breathing.
“What does that mean?”
“It could mean many things, that you entered a place coming to life, or transitioning from life to death, or it could mean nothing. But—” she held up one finger “—given that your family name is du Sang, you are a witch in training, and your land holds a portal tree, I would say we have a situation.”
Christoph held the front door for Belle. She hustled to the couch, touching L’Runa lightly on the shoulder before turning her attention to me.
In the background, Christoph placed a teapot on the dining table and made two more trips back and forth, bringing in mugs, a plate of apple slices, and small bowl of peanut butter. “I’m making a grilled cheese for you, Calliope.”
“Thanks.” I gave thanks Christoph wasn’t an imbuer, scooted my butt against the arm of the couch, and sat up. “Hey, Belle.”
“Calliope.” She came around to the end of the couch, gripped my cheeks in her hands, and planted a kiss on my forehead. “I’ll work on your feet. Are you in much pain?”
“A bit,” I said. “I think my feet are getting more sensitive the more I use my magic.”
“Not an uncommon complaint among earth witches,” she assured me. “I’m going to mix up a poultice that will draw out anything that might have gotten in through the cuts. Though I wish we’d done this right away. I’ll be right back.”
“Do you get nauseous when your blood is drawn?” L’Runa asked.
“No. Go ahead and take what you need now and then I’ll eat.”
The witch opened a white plastic case filled with phlebotomy supplies and set it on the table next to her thigh. She excused herself to wash her hands as Belle returned with a white enamel bowl. The contents smelled earthy. She pulled a chair to the end of the couch, draped a towel over her generous lap, and slathered a warmed clay mixture over the bottoms of my feet.
“Let me get her blood before you do her hands, Belle.” L’Runa went through the motions of donning gloves, finding a vein, and tying a section of rubber tubing around my upper arm. I looked away as the syringe neared my skin. I’d had enough of getting pricked for one day, and I was relieved when she declared four vials was enough.
Christoph handed me a tall glass of water. “Drink this,” he said. I followed his order while watching L’Runa label and store the vials. She headed to the kitchen. Belle moved to a different chair and applied the poultice to my hands one at a time.
L’Runa returned with the two plates of shards, waited for Belle to finish, and set the plates on the edge of the table when the plant witch stood.
I eyed the bits of glass while Belle fed me triangles of grilled cheese. The shards on one plate were blood-streaked. On the other, the glass glistened from being rinsed. L’Runa took a seat, unfolded a jeweler’s loupe, and held the plate of cleaned pieces close to her face for inspection. “Christoph,” she said, “I saw a flashlight on the counter. Could you shine it over here for me, please?”
“What do you see?” I asked.
“They look like hollow marbles.” L’Runa thanked my grandfather for holding the flashlight, set the plate down, and turned to face me. “You said you found them at the base of a tree. I think we can assume it was a portal tree. That makes me think these are the equivalent of portal stones.” She tapped the loupe against her chin. “You also said you found them underneath layers of leaves. I would deduce it has been some time since this portal destination was last used.
“Do you recall how many layers covered the shards?”
I could picture the answer clearly. “Three. Why do you ask?”
“Knowing how many cycles have passed since there was activity at that portal could provide helpful at some point.”
“Do you think Malvyn would know what they are?”
“That is possible,” she said. “I’ll take one with me, as well as a few of the broken pieces. You should put them in a closed container when we’re done here.”
L’Runa returned to musing silently. I asked, “What about the colors? The black and white and red.”
“Which did you notice first, Calliope?”
“Black,” I said, closing my eyes to sharpen my memory. “When I opened my eyes, everything was black. Then I noticed spots glowing white and as my eyesight adjusted, I could pick out individual leaves. Red was last. Red sky, red water, and the leaves around the tree were more red-tinged with black edges.
“Also, the place was absolutely
