I added excessive greed to the list of my ex’s shortcomings and chuffed out a breath. I was no longer tied to the Flechettes but I was on the Magical clean-up crew, and I was okay with that.
Wes scuffed at the ground again, drew a mangled rectangle with the toes of one boot, and placed a rough X near the edge. “The four of us and other druids and Magicals have been pouring our energy into a massive Magical working. We are attempting to hide sections of Alaska, British Columbia, and the Yukon and Northwest Territories from the big industries. Shifters like your grandfather need wild places to live and train the coming generations. In order to do that, we need constant—and consistent—access to places that recharge our magic. This island is one of those wells, and this orchard, with its portals and tunnels, has got to be kept in magic-friendly hands.” Wes looked at me head on and clamped his hands to my shoulders. “I would give my life to this cause, Calliope, but I would much prefer to stay alive.”
Chapter 21
There was much to be gleaned from Wes’s words.
“Did you know my father, Benôit?” I had to ask.
Wes gulped as he fought to maintain eye contact with me.
“I did,” he said. “He was a good man. And that’s all I want to say about him right now. We have a fight coming, and I have knives to sharpen.” He wiped an eye. “Metaphorically speaking. We’ll talk about Benôit later.”
“Thank you for explaining all that to me, Wes. I’m going to plug in my phone and sit in my car and eat.”
He patted my shoulder and headed around the house. I started my car and backed as close to the porch as I could without crushing Abigail’s flower beds. I had seen two outdoor outlets near the front door. My car could recharge while my phone’s battery and my belly did the same.
Windows open, birds doing their full-throated best to lighten the mood, I plugged everything in and unpeeled my surprise lunch. I was swallowing the first bite of a roasted vegetable sandwich when my phone rang. I tapped to answer and put Kerry on speaker. My hello was impeded by the need for something to wash the food down.
“Calli, is that you?”
“Mm-hm,” I said, feeling under my seat for a water bottle. “It’s me. I’m eating lunch.”
“Any word on your boys?” she asked.
“Not yet.”
“Then I won’t keep you. I wanted you to know a Rose de Benauge was here. She said you sent her. I gave her the kit with the soil samples.”
“Thanks, Kerry,” I said, unscrewing the top to the warmed metal bottle I’d located.
“There’s another thing. A package arrived marked personal, for your eyes only. I gave the package to Rose because she said she would be seeing you soon.” Kerry snorted. “She’s a little intimidating, Calli. I hope what I did was okay.”
“Rose is a friend, Kerry, and you did great.”
A package. I wondered if Jack could sniff for poisons. Or a bomb. I dialed Rose’s number.
“Calliope,” Rose started. “L’Runa and I are at her laboratory. Your office assistant gave me a package to deliver to you.”
“Yes, that’s one reason why I was—”
“The package contains books. Or something book-like. I will bring it to the Pearmains’ when we’re done here. Excuse me a moment.” Rose was silent, and I heard L’Runa’s voice in the background. “L’Runa is asking if you have any bears in your family.”
“Not that I know of, Rose, but I didn’t know I had a grandfather who was a gyrfalcon until a few days ago.”
“Well. I look forward to meeting him. And L’Runa would like you to know the first reading she has off the sample is definitely bear. But…please wait, Calliope.” Rose returned after moment. “There are traces of an ursine presence in the soil, not in the blood. I’ll leave it to you to decipher what that might mean.”
I had no idea, and I didn’t bother saying goodbye to Rose. I knew better. As I went to tap my phone, Rose asked, “Calliope? Are you still there?”
Color me shocked. I removed the corner of the sandwich from my mouth and responded, “Yes.”
“Your sons are going to be fine. We will see to that.” She hung up before I could choke out a surprised “Thank you.”
I managed to finish the rest of my lunch without interruption. Balling up the waxed paper wrapper, I winced when one of my father’s rings pinched my skin. I couldn’t forget that if the situation warranted, I could summon Christoph to me with the feathers he’d plucked for that purpose.
Summon. I could summon a gyrfalcon, and I could summon vines. Could I do the same with my sons?
I held my breath as I opened the driver’s side door and tugged off my left boot. Taking Wes’s admonition to pull out all the stops and use my heart, I stuck my toes into the fertile soil of Abigail’s flower bed and sent out a call to Harper and Thatch.
Where are you?
I pictured the smiling faces I had seen this morning. I pictured the warm, pink light I had been surrounding my boys with since they were babies. I pictured that light travelling through the mycelial layer, fungi to fungi, strand by strand.
Where are you? I asked again, strengthening the cords of light, making their color denser, more concentrated. Like blood.
Mom!
Thatcher! My leg jerked in surprise, severing the connection. I growled at the loss. Pivoting in the seat, I tore off my other boot and knocked my elbow against the door in my hurry to get to my knees. I dug both hands and all ten toes into the turned soil and sent every ounce of magic I had into images of Harper and Thatcher’s faces connected to me through ropes of pink, vibrant,
