He and Wes exchanged another look, before Wes took over explaining. “The portal connected with the northwest quadrant is one that requires a guide, and the guide currently in charge is very interesting.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask,” I said, shoving a bite of waffle into my mouth.
“He’s on the island to apprentice with Malvyn’s sister, Maritza. She’s a witch and Professor of Necromantic Studies, and I think the guys name is Albert? Sebastian? Kaz, do you remember what he said his name was? Tall guy. Bald. Wears a cape.”
I paused, my mouth full. Kaz shook his head.
Wes continued, “Maritza doesn’t teach at a human university. She’s at the College for Magic. Actually, that’s not the school’s correct name, but that’s what everyone calls it.”
Everyone but me, because I had never heard of the place. I filed away yet another nugget and swallowed. Down the hall, the toilet flushed, and bare feet scuffled on the wood floor. Rowan, red hair tamed by a turquoise head scarf, appeared a moment later and walked bleary-eyed to the coffee machine.
“It’s a good thing I’m not on call,” she mumbled. “The babies would have to deliver themselves.” She filled a mug and called over her shoulder, “Anyone need a refill?”
Wes pushed his chair away from the table. “Kaz? Tanner? Calli?”
We all nodded.
“Our intrepid druids were just telling us about the portals on my property, Ro,” I said.
She waited until Wes was beside her to give him a shy smile. Together, they gathered milk from the fridge and more mugs and brought the carafe of coffee to the table.
“So. Portals. And have we heard from the kids yet?” Rowan asked, filling the lifted mugs before seating herself across from me.
“Nope,” I said, “and I wouldn’t be surprised if they sleep until at least noon.” I was reminded about Lei-li’s concern about her fathers. “Wes, Kaz, either of you hear from Malvyn or James?”
Kaz grunted and reached into the backpack near his feet. He pulled out his cell phone. “A text came in at two o’clock this morning. Says prisoners secured and they’ll be in touch once they’re en route to Vancouver.” He scrolled and frowned. “There are two messages from River. First one says Clifford and Abi never made it back to the farm. Second one came in a half-hour ago. Still no sign of the Pearmains.” Kaz placed his phone face up on the table and looked at Tanner. “Did you reach Jessamyne?”
Tanner clenched his teeth, picked up a knife, and drew a precise line in the stick of butter. He pressed down, placed the pat on the center of his waffle, drizzled maple syrup in a spiral, and dropped his knife. The utensil clanked against the edge of the plate.
“I don’t remember much of what happened after Jessa pinned me to the tree and nothing about how I got here.” He stood quickly, opened the front door, and scanned the area, his weight balanced on his forward leg. “And my truck’s missing.” The haunted look was back in his eyes, replaced in a blink by anger. “Either she drove me, or I found a portal.”
I nearly gagged on my coffee at the image of the Apple Witch driving Tanner’s truck, even as I struggled to picture her in human form. Devastatingly beautiful, in all likelihood. More used to driving steeds with flowing manes than dented Ford 150s.
“Do you remember where you drove when you left here last night?” I asked.
“Of course I do,” he said, his voice edged with irritation. “I remember arriving at the orchard and walking until I reached the heart of the sacred acres.”
That was a first for us. Him being bothered gave me permission to be irritated that the Apple Witch was now “Jessa.”
“I just told you,” Tanner continued. “When I left this house you all were still here. I drove to the Pearmains’. No one was at the house, so I walked the property until I came to the burial mounds. Cliff thought some of the trees along the periphery of that area of his property had been brought over from England and other places in Europe as seedlings. If his theory is correct,” he looked around the table, “which I think is plausible, those trees could have been chosen because they’re portals or were grafted off of portals. There’s no reason to doubt the man. He was—is—one of us.”
“Wait,” I said, “are you implying portals can be moved? Like, uprooted and planted somewhere else if they’re a tree or a…a bush? What about rocks?” I reached for the coffee. The carafe was empty, and I needed more caffeine. A lot more if I was going to separate my emotional entanglement from facts and observations.
Rowan stood with me. “I want to hear more about portals and plans,” she said, folding her napkin, “but could you table the discussion until I come back downstairs? I’d like to peek in on the kids. Sorry, the young adults.”
“I’ll come with you. Just let me get another pot going.”
She followed me into the kitchen and whispered, “Overwhelmed yet?”
“Totally.” Portals. Jessa this… Portal guides. Jessa that... I measured grounds into a paper cone and added an extra scoopful for fortitude.
“Stay tight with your sons. They’ll keep you grounded.” She darted a look over her shoulder and bit at her lower lip. “I can see why you’re all over Tanner, but that man has secrets. Proceed with caution, girlfriend.”
Girlfriend. I almost lost it. No woman had ever called me girlfriend in that affectionate way. “Trying,” I said. “But he’s so…”
“Hot?”
I nodded, pouring cold water into the machine and flipping the switch. “And complicated.”
“Those are the worst.” Rowan gently
