Christoph elected to travel with the druid—his wings would never fit in my tiny electric vehicle—and they followed me to the Brooks family’s farm. My grandfather stayed in the car, wrapped in a blanket of sorts. Wes and I talked to the farmer in charge of summer help. She had neither seen nor heard from my sons that day and was slightly put out they hadn’t contacted her. I gave her my cell phone number and asked if she would please call or text if the boys showed up.
“They’re such goofy guys,” she said, squeezing my upper arm gently, “and they manage to work really hard. I hope you hear from them soon.”
Our two-car caravan pulled up to the Pearmains’ gate. I opened it so we could park close to the house and wavered on whether to leave the gate open or shut.
“Leave it open,” said Wes. “Anybody wanting entry to the property will have the means to run right over the gate and the fence. This way, if we have to get out in hurry, it’s one less thing to worry about.”
My phone had been silent on the drive. I gripped it tight, willing some piece of good news to set off a musical alert as I waited for signal bars.
James and Rose had both texted. His message was a terse show of support, and hers said she’d picked up the sample kit and was bringing it to L’Runa. I blew out a quick breath.
A loud fluttering pulled my attention off my phone. Christoph had extended his wings.
“I need to stretch,” he said. “I told Wes I wanted to head to the burial mounds and poke around. Unless you need me to stay with you?”
I stared at my grandfather, standing a couple inches taller than me, with silvery-white hair flowing down his back and his wings agitating. A little girl-like part of myself wanted to trust him simply because he was my grandfather. Adult me drew her close and voiced my hesitation.
“Christoph, the truth is I’m uncomfortable that there’s no one at the house, and if the boys end up there for some reason, they don’t even have cell phones to call for help.” I bounced the toe of my boot against the car’s rear wheel. “The best thing you could do for me right now would be to portal back to the house. Someone responsible—and capable of magic—should be there for Harper and Thatch if they show up.”
“You got it, Calli-lass.”
“How can I reach you though, if something happens here?” I asked.
Christoph plucked three smallish feathers from different places on his wings and handed them to me. “Slide the feathers between one of the rings and your thumb like this,” he said, demonstrating. “The calamus and shaft will glow. Three feathers mean you three are safe. Two feathers means the boys are on their way to me. One feather means you need my help. You will feel the metal go cold. When it does, drop the feather to the ground and try your best to bury it. If it’s help you need, the hard part will be the wait between sending the signal and my arrival.” He coughed and smoothed the front of his vest. “I’ll take the portal from here. It’ll give me a chance to exercise these old wings.”
“Thank you.” I tucked the three feathers into the outer pocket opposite where I kept my wand and hugged Christoph.
We separated, and he gave me a thumbs up and leaned forward into a take-off I never imagined witnessing. My sense of awe and respect for raptors in general was magnified by the sight of my grandfather’s wings flapping, lifting him toward the trees.
I brought my phone to my ear as he skimmed over a cluster of stone fruit trees and disappeared.
“Jack?” I said, the second my call was answered. “I need your help.”
Chapter 20
“What’s up, Calli?”
Jack’s take-charge baritone, the one I pictured him affecting in emergencies and around hysterical people, had an immediate and calming effect. I was ready to tell him everything.
Almost everything.
“Doug took my sons,” I said. “The boys were on their way to work this morning at Brooks Farm. They stopped at that bakery, the second one on the main road out of Ganges, and the kid behind the counter says he saw them go with Doug.”
Jack’s desk chair squeaked and groaned. “Harper and Thatcher going with Doug is not the same as them being taken by Doug.”
“Harper’s Jeep was abandoned, along with their backpacks and cell phones.” I pressed the tips of my thumb and forefinger into the tight spot between my eyebrows and pressed hard. “Do you know a single teenager who would agree to be separated from their cellphone?”
“Okay. Tell me more.”
“I’d rather show you,” I said. “That way, it’ll make a lot more sense than me telling you about the chick that turns into an apple tree and how my grandfather is flying around an orchard right now.”
“What’s he piloting?” Jack asked.
“Jack, he’s under his own wing power. He’s a gyrfalcon, remember?”
A low whistle. “Sorry, I forgot. Where are you now?”
“The Pearmain orchards. Cliff and Abi are technically still missing, but we know where they are. Their grandsons were kidnapped, but we got them back the night of my party and they’re here too. And last night, a necromancer and I took a portal to Doug’s mother’s estate and rescued two sisters. They’re Fae, and Alabastair—he’s the necromancer—brought the sisters here. It’s a shit show and a circus,” I added, in case Jack hadn’t already figured that out.
This time the groan in the background came from Jack. “I pulled desk duty today. As soon as I can bring in a replacement, I’ll be there.” He sighed. His head probably hurt worse than mine. “What’re we talking here? A family dispute that I’m going to need to mitigate? Oh, make
