All in all, it was an awe-inspiring display of magic in motion.
“The threads are like cotton-candy twists,” I said.
“We drew from the full spectrum of colors in the surrounding grasses, trees, and flowers. Another day or two and it will look less—”
“Less like a child puked up a candy store?” Maritza pointed to the middle of the three conical mounds. “Your attention should be toward the grass and what lies buried below, not wandering up there in all that fluff.”
I sneaked a last glance at the wavering blush-pink and peach strands and followed the group to the middle mound.
“Have you completely masked the door?” Maritza asked. “I cannot see a break in the wall.”
Kaz nodded. He stepped in close and ran his hand along the trimmed sod wall until he was two-thirds of the way to the corner of the structure. He stopped, shrugged off the straps of his backpack, and gestured to the rest of us. “There are shrouds in my pack,” he said, “Wes, Calli, if you could grab two of them and follow me in, we’ll extract the bodies. Maritza, we will await your signal before we bring them into the light.”
Rose and Belle remained silent as they lowered the troughs to the ground and adjusted the cloths covering the heads. I shook out one piece of fabric, handed it over to Wes, and removed another for myself. Kaz faced the mound, his arms raised to the sides. He kept his elbows relaxed as he moved his fingers as though seeking an opening and chanted under his breath.
A series of charcoal gray lines formed, following the path of his fingers. Kaz moved his arms, drawing out a rectangle and continued to walk his fingers along the lines as more appeared. Once he touched them, the lines solidified into the shape of a doorway. He tugged on a chain looped around his neck and leaned forward, pressing whatever was hanging onto the sod.
The door inside the rectangle he’d formed swung inward. A hazy beam of light inside the cavernous space came into focus. The mound had at least one skylight and the air smelled not at all like death. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting or why I imagined something creepier, like the dirt-floored cellar of my house which always stank of mold and decay.
Maybe Magicals—druids at least—took a different kind of care with their dead.
Kaz paused, took a step back, and gestured to Maritza. She nodded and hooked her arm through his. “I have changed my mind. I will accompany Kazimir. The rest of you stay here until we know what awaits.”
Tanner came over to me, did that thing again where he clamped his hands on the tops of my shoulders and kneaded my muscles with his thumbs. I shrugged him off. My body kept trying to tug me back to our previous level of intimacy, and my head wanted only to absorb the experience unfolding in front of me and suck up every drop of knowledge.
I grabbed for his wrist as he went to walk away and steered him to stand at my side. “This is all so new,” I whispered. “I don’t want to miss a thing.”
He wiggled out of my grasp and slid his fingers up the back of my skull, tangling them in my hair. Bringing his mouth against my ear, he whispered back, “I like to watch you learn, Calliope.” Giving me a couple inches’ worth of distance, he added, “And touching you grounds me. Being here is unsettling.”
The truth of his words showed itself on his face. He’d passed through this place in pursuit of the Apple Witch.
I interlaced my fingers through his. I understood the driving need to feel rooted. “Can you sense her?” I asked, keeping my voice as low as I could. “Because I can’t. Not here, not under the disguise the three of you created. I can’t sense anything.”
“The fortified wards are meant to keep her out,” he explained. “Her and others who would seek access to this place.”
Maritza ducked under the lintel of the doorway. “We have a problem,” she said. “We cannot perform the Ritual of Conjuration outside of the mound.” She crossed her arms under her breasts, rolled her shoulders, and cracked her neck to each side. “And if someone could please fetch the living hidden folk we left at the house, we can get this exhumation started.”
“Tanner, River.” Wes turned to leave then asked Maritza if there was anything else she could think of that would be useful.
“Ask those boys what the hidden folk enjoy eating. And drinking. The more treats they are plied with, the more enticements we provide, the longer they will stay. And the more they’ll say.”
Wes nodded and took off, Tanner and River loping beside him. I declined the urge to watch my druid’s departing backside and turned my attention to the witches and to Maritza. “Is there anything we can do while we wait?”
“Belle brought marigolds. Pull off the petals and gather them into…” Her gaze swept the area. “Find something to hold the petals until we are ready to go inside.”
I avoided looking at the wrapped heads as I went to my knees next to Belle and gathered a cluster of marigolds. Their pungent smell was used by organic gardeners to ward off insects. Equating the cheery, orangey-yellow flowers with ceremonies for the dead was new. I added that note to the growing archive on my cellphone, returned to separating petals from the receptacle, and considered adding botanical illustrations to my grimoire.
Which I didn’t yet have, but I would. Even if coming into possession of a grimoire of my own meant portaling to the northernmost section of British Columbia. Or driving. Driving was a mode of transportation I knew I could handle.
Completing Maritza’s task took us as
