“Well, then.” The leaves in the goddess’s crown wavered. “Tanner, perhaps you know the whereabouts of my apples?”
Was she giggling? I patted the air behind me, searching for Tanner’s hand and discovering no one had thought to hand him a pair of pants. Or even a spare cloth napkin. I shut my eyes and groaned.
Idunn’s laugh rolled up from her belly, and when I opened my eyes, the top of her head was at my nose.
“Where’s the pouch?” Tanner asked, whispering into my ear and positioning himself firmly behind me. I couldn’t blame him. The leaves on Idunn’s crown were pointy, and her laughter and whatever else was going on with her growth spurt had nudged her crown to a precarious angle.
“I left it at the house,” I said. “It’s safe.”
“Can you reach Christoph, have him bring it here?”
I tilted my head, leaned into Tanner’s chest, and tried to keep my voice low. “I can call him to me, but that’s it.”
“Then one of us is going to have to go get it.”
Maritza the merciful tapped a gold-plated spoon against a teacup.
“May I pour for anyone while we await the appearance of the missing objects?” Setting the cup on a saucer, she offered one chair to Idunn and one to Ni’eve.
“I must decline.” Ni’eve smoothed the front of her embroidered and embellished robe. “I have been remiss in my duties, and the sooner I have my daughter home, the sooner we can begin to repair the damage she has wrought.” The druidess, for all her titles and regal bearing, was also a mother. Sweeping her arm to encompass where Jessamyne lay unconscious, she asked, “Maritza? Could you assist me please?”
Maritza saw to pouring a cup of tea for Idunn then pulled her needle and thread out of the air. “May I have your shawl?”
The length of heavy, apple red silk gracing Ni’eve’s shoulders floated toward Maritza. As her audience watched, she began to stitch. I tiptoed backwards until I felt the doorway to the underland brush against my shoulders.
Slipping between the wide strips of cloth, I drank in the sharp bite of the night air and the stars overhead before noticing the field was empty. I reminded myself my sons were safe, the LaFleur Fae had proven themselves capable, and Meribah was in a cage soldered closed with Maritza’s magic. I would hear the story of what happened to everyone else once this next part was sorted.
The three feathers Christoph pulled from his wings were in my pocket. I had to clear my head to remember what he said about summoning him.
One feather means you need my help.
I tucked the end of one feather between my left thumb and the ring, brought the other ring to join its mate, and waited. Christoph had said I should bury the feather after the summoning, but he’d neglected to mention what would happen when skin, metal, and feather all touched in unison.
Because a handful of Magical beings had spoken to me inside my head, I pictured the object—Tanner’s pouch—and the destination—the underland—and my default favorite, a glowing pink light. Inside that light, the rings twinkled to match the stars, and my fingers and the feather glowed. I saw my bones and the inner structure of the feather. The glow deepened to a rosy red, the picture in my head snapped off, and the feather floated to the ground.
I shook out my tingling fingers, pressed the feather into the soil with my toes, and waited. Low voices in conversation reached me from behind the curtained door to the underland. Crickets and tree frogs raised their voices. Or maybe I was quiet enough on my insides I could appreciate them going about their evening routine.
Staring at the emptiness stretching in front of me brought me a measure of calm. Forest flowed in dense patches to my left and to my right. The closest burial mound rose in the deepening navy blue light, with the portal tree adding its inky black silhouette to the scene.
I found a measure of peace in that moment, and as I reached for another one just like it, Christoph’s outstretched form parted the air in front of me.
“I came as soon as I could, Calliope.” His wings snapped as he brought them in. He took hold of my upper arms, brought me to his chest, and kissed the top of my head. “Harper’s stable, Thatcher’s gone on a bit of a rant, and Kaz has everything under control.” He leaned back to assess my face.
“Did you happen to bring the pouch?” I asked, giving him a hopeful smile.
“I…” His brow furrowed. “I wondered if that was what you meant. Did you attempt to send me a message when you sent the single feather summons?”
I nodded. “I did. But I couldn’t figure out how to tell you where to find the pouch.”
“I can go back and get it,” he said.
An idea was dancing around the edge of my awareness, too new and radical for me to voice. “I’ll get it. Promise me you won’t step into the underland without me.” I squeezed Christoph’s hand. “Please. I want to see the look on your face when you see who’s in there.”
Christoph indulged my request and waved me off.
I hightailed it to the portal tree and stopped as its branches crowned my head. I pocketed a few stones, whipped out my wand, held it much like I had my grandfather’s feather, and pictured the crabapple next to my garden.
Nothing.
I pictured it harder, made myself remember the smell of its blossoms and the feel of its bark and even the tang of its fruit in homemade apple cider. I breathed over my thumbs and my rings. The filigree began to glow.
“Take me home,” I whispered. Pressure, suction, and nausea. I clutched the crabapple, dashed to the front steps, and ran up and into the house.
“Great-grandpa, is that you?” Thatcher hollered from the second floor.
“It’s Mom,” I answered. I struggled to keep my
