Scrolling through emails, I found nothing urgent and decided I should get to know Airlie better. “Oh, to answer your question, according to Christoph, Harper is doing well. Leilani’s reports are a little less rosy, but I get the sense going north was a good decision for her too.”
Christoph had lived in the Northwest Territories for decades. The sparsely populated territory was perfect for Shifters and others like him. Magicals who retained their form, or aspects of their physical form, on a permanent basis had a tendency to frighten the general public. His wings were permanent, though he could molt his feathers.
Since early August, Harper had been with Christoph, working to stop the growth of his first set of wings until he was ready to accept them fully. Leilani had gone along for support.
“You can get up and stretch, take a bathroom break if you need to,” said River. “Then I’ll fill in the shaded areas.”
“Thanks.” In the bathroom, I tried to peek at the design and gave up. The space was too tight to maneuver.
Back in the chair, I had to ask River my burning question. His friend—and my maybe-boyfriend—had been off the radar for six weeks. I was beginning to wonder if I’d been dumped. “Have you heard anything from Tanner?”
“Sec,” he answered. “Let me get this going.”
Gaah. I had to close my eyes and focus on breathing until my skin acclimated to the sensation of the needle. If the news was bad, I wanted River to get it over with and tell me straight.
“You know Tanner’s teacher is one of the oldest living druidesses, yes?” he said.
I went to shake my head, when River lifted the needle and reminded me to stay still.
“I didn’t know that. But I don’t know much about druids.”
River exhaled through his nose, “Ni’eve du Blanc comes from a different time and she continues to live and teach at her own pace.”
“Is that your way of saying you have heard from Tanner?”
“I’ve heard through the grapevine that negotiations between Idunn, Ni’eve, and what’s left of the Keepers have reached a very delicate balance.”
Oh.
“Calliope, druids become druids because they survive their training, not by an accident of birth.” He lifted his inking gun and released the foot pedal. “I need to take five,” he said. “My hand’s cramping.”
River’s timing was perfect. Talk of Tanner agitated me. I tried tracing the chipped edges of the linoleum floor squares then closed my eyes and remembered the way Bear’s paws had always—always—been a reassuring weight against my skin.
The stool squeaked and the cushion gave a funny sigh as River’s weight settled. “Okay, where were we?” he asked.
“You were giving me the background on Tanner and Jessamyne.”
The druid’s hmm competed with the buzzing of the machine. “My understanding is Jessamyne wanted the status of being her mother’s daughter and the arcane knowledge that came with being a Keeper. She made many promises regarding her fidelity—to Iduun, to the Keepers, and to Tanner—and she failed on all of them. She’s got the biggest case of wanderlust I’ve ever come across.”
I let River’s assessment sink in. Tanner had yet to explain exactly how long his association with the Apple Witch had been going on. “Is that Wanderlust the yoga festival, wanderlust with a capital W, or wanderlust with a small W?”
“That is wanderlust in all caps, Calli. And it’s a very real condition, afflicting those who are constitutionally challenged to put down roots.”
“From what I’ve seen of Jessamyne,” I said, muttering my opinion into the towel covering the face rest, “she could be Wanderlust’s poster child.” And if the Apple Witch ever decided the cure was to settle on my island, she had another think coming. I knew the best root-ball specialist in all of Canada and she owed me a job.
River stopped again and laughed at my comments. “I would give a decade of my life to sit in on their negotiations. Far as I can put together, Idunn was not happy with either Ni’eve or Jessamyne.”
I met Idunn in early August. The goddess intimated she had much to say to Jessamyne and Ni’eve. The words she saved for Tanner and me were the ones I remembered.
According to Idunn—and her beloved seeds’ enthusiastic awakening—Tanner and I might have a future.
If he could get his butt out of France and back to British Columbia.
“And we’re done,” said River, quieting his machine. I’d been reviewing my encounter with the Norse Goddess while he finished. He blotted the design and held out a wide, oval hand mirror. “Have a look.”
I stood, clutching my T-shirt to the front of my chest, and shook out my legs. I turned my back to the big mirror on the wall and checked River’s work.
Even though I knew Aunt Noémi was dead, I wasn’t prepared for seeing the likeness of Bear’s paw prints. River had positioned them precisely where I had often felt Bear’s presence as they guarded and guided me.
Hand shaky, I returned the mirror to River, sat on his stool. “It’s beautiful,” I said. “And it’s perfect.”
River’s smile was genuine and pleased. “Let me get you cleaned and bandaged. Then you can head out.”
“Hey, Aunt Calliope!” Sallie waved from across the street. She waited for a break in the traffic before dashing across the road to where I was unlocking my car. “Can I see it?”
“River says I have to keep my skin covered at least twenty-four hours.”
“Okay.” Sallie gave a halfhearted pout and slipped her arms around my waist. “I’m trying to leave the house more. But it’s really hard.” Sallie had been homeschooled since she was twelve or thirteen. Technically, she had all the needed credits to graduate high school. But neither her parents or her tutors had filed the paperwork required by the province. She was in limbo until we got it sorted.
Now that public schools were in session and offices were fully staffed, I expected Sallie would have her diploma soon. In
