by Coralie Moss
“He’s not in the other bedroom,” Rowan said, joining me in the doorway. “Did you hear anyone leave this morning?”
I shook my head as the all-too-familiar stone of dread dropped into my belly.
She jerked her head toward the stairs. “Let’s go find him.”
Rising fear grabbed at my collarbones and hauled me to the first floor. I had to keep my hand on the railing and concentrate on my knees not buckling. “Harper’s not upstairs. Have any of you seen him?” I asked. I couldn’t swallow. “Or Christoph?”
“I think your grandfather’s on the back porch,” said Kaz, pushing his chair away to stand. “I noticed him settling there while Wes and I were in the woods. I’ll check out front.”
I stumbled around the table and tugged on the slider door. Warm August air caressed my face. The bird-man was perched atop the corner post of the railing, legs crossed in lotus, spine straight, feathers ruffling in the morning’s breeze. His eyes were closed.
“Calliope,” he said, his voice a strong whisper that mingled with the other sounds rising from the forest behind my house.
“Have you seen Harper this morning? He’s not in the house.”
Christoph pointed toward the fir we’d come to refer as the Bat Tree. “He’s up there. Sleeping.”
The tight knots of maternal worry loosened, and I ducked my head inside the house. “He’s here,” I said, pointing blindly behind me. “In the tree.”
Wes waved. Tanner started to clear the table. Needing space, I shoved the outdoor table aside and stood at Christoph’s side. Stroking his feathers soothed me as I searched the branches for Harper.
“You did that the first time I met you,” Christoph said. “I don’t think you were much older than one, one-and-a-half, and you tried to hide under my wings.”
“I have no memory of wings or feathers.” At that moment, I wanted desperately to give in to childhood’s longing and call him Grandpa.
“What weighs at your heart, my Calliope?”
“I’m unprepared for this thing I’m in the middle of. My sons, my magic, my ex-husband, and all the lies. All the family stuff I didn’t know. Makes me wonder what else is out there.” I gripped the railing with both hands. My knuckles turned as pale as the calamus joining each of Christoph’s feathers to the underlying structure of his wings. “Because I know there’s more coming. People might get killed. On my watch. And I feel woefully inadequate in the role of protector and defender. I mean, that comes with being a mother, but this is protect and defend on steroids. With deadly weapons. I’m not trained, and nobody’s handed me the rule book.”
I felt better for my confession, but freeing the words stuck in my chest and letting them splatter like loose marbles all over the porch didn’t grant me an instantaneous boon of knowledge.
“You’ve felt alone for a good deal of your life, yes?”
I nodded. The lump of truth swelling in my throat made it hard to swallow.
“And now, this morning, when you look around you, look around the breakfast table, what do you see?”
The reflection in the glass doors didn’t allow me to see much more than the vague shapes of heads and shoulders moving about the kitchen area. But I got what he meant. “I see friends. Friends and allies who will help me protect my sons, defend my house, and strengthen my magic.”
I wanted to ask the questions pinching my heart, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t feeling strong enough to handle knowing what had provoked my mother to leave Maine in such a hurry and why her parents and Christoph hadn’t been around for us when I was growing up.
“I am here now. Use me. Use my knowledge.” Christoph lifted himself off the railing and landed beside me. He held my upper arms gently, worried eyes the shade of aged pewter searching my face. “Nothing will ever take away the guilt I feel for choosing a life that did not include being close to you, but when Kazimir sent out the call for a gyrfalcon shifter, I knew it was time for me to see my family again. I am here for you and Harper and Thatcher.” He squeezed my arms. “Look at me, my dear.”
I did. I let the tears flow, let the outermost blockages around my heart break off, and hoped all of them would keep going and flowing until they’d passed through me and dissipated into the ground.
“Let me help you. Let me stay here with my great-grandsons. Harper’s going to need the kind of guidance I can give.” He looked over his shoulder, high into the branches of the fir tree where my oldest son rested. “I can help him through his anger and his fears. And you…” He leaned back, assessing me. In that moment, I understood that he did not find me wanting in any way. Another piece of the wall around my heart broke off. I’d erected the damn thing to keep out the relatives who’d abandoned me and my mother. “You,” he continued, “deserve to take this time to study and find out everything you can about who you really are.” Christoph’s eyes glistened. He relaxed his grip, used his thumbs to clear the tears from my cheeks. “Think you can do that for me? For your sons? For yourself?”
“Oh, yeah,” I mumbled, my nose starting to run. “But I have a job and…”
“Details,” he said, smiling. “C’mon, I’m starving, and I should get myself inside before the neighbors call the police about the giant bird in your yard.”
I placed a hand against the longest feathers at the tips of my grandfather’s wings and let him lead me inside.
Tanner looked up. “We were just talking about Cliff and Abigail,” he said. “Calliope, I filled everyone in about Jessamyne. Mostly.” His face was shaded. I named the color remorse. “And Rose would like for you to call her.”
Rose was the head witch of the covens in lower British Columbia and sister to River, another of the druids Tanner had introduced into my life. They, along with the plant witch, Belle de Boskoop, had taken Cliff and Abi’s grandsons to the farm house as soon as we realized Cliff and Abi were gone.
“Do we have a plan?” I asked. I dared them to mention the state of my face.
The trio of druids nodded in unison.
“We think it best that you, Rowan, and Christoph stay here. Wes, Kaz, and I will meet up with River and Rose.” Tanner waggled a cellphone in my direction. “And we check in every half hour.”
“The kids stay here too?”
“Until James comes to pick up Leilani, yes. And if he has more information or if there’s a change of plans, we need to know that as well.”
Wes added, “No more assumptions or going out alone until we have Abigail and Clifford back.”
While the men gathered their things, I puttered in my kitchen, putting knives and such back where I liked them stored.
“Calli,” said Christoph, “could I have some of those waffles you made?”
I pointed out the basket of eggs and the dry ingredients I’d use to mix the first batch of batter. “There’s milk and orange juice in the fridge. Make enough for the kids.”
He laughed and hugged me around the shoulders. “Guess that’s my cue I’m on KP duty.”
“Hah, I guess it is.” I lifted my gaze to his and saw only warmth. And love.
I could get used to this.
Or at least the more pleasant aspects of having another adult in the house.
Chapter 5
My moment of basking in familial love lasted a handful of seconds—the feeling of being rubbed a little raw by Tanner’s encounter with Jessamyne resurfaced, I didn’t like the trio of druids assuming they knew what was best for me and my sons, and a car roared past the driveway.
The driver stopped the vehicle with a squeal of tires on macadam and backed up, slow and steady. I recognized Leilani’s father, James Brodeur, at the wheel.
“Did you guys do something extra-extra with the wards?” I asked. James seemingly had no problems the day before, but the confusion—and frustration—on his face said he might not have access to the driveway. Or even see the entrance.
“Oh, we sure did,” said Kaz. “Why? Is someone here?”
“James. Probably wants to
pick up Leilani.”
“He and Malvyn will have to be attuned to the new settings. I’ll go guide him in.” Kaz bounded down the front stairs and called to James. Frustration melted into relief as the half-witch botanist ducked his head into the car and turned the steering wheel.
Harper appeared from around the left side of the house, striding across the lawn, barefoot, shirtless, in loose-fitting shorts that threatened to slide off his narrow hips. The skin on his upper back was reddened, like he’d been scratching against the tree during the night.
James exited his car and waited until he and my son stood chest to chest, Harper slightly taller. The older man moved to embrace first. My son’s arms went around James’s shoulders more reluctantly.
I had my hand on the screen door handle and a call rising in my throat when I stopped. Harper’s upper body was shaking. I could tell James was speaking. Harper would occasionally nod in response, tuck his chin further toward his chest. Though I wanted to know what my baby was asking, hearing, and responding, I held back.
This was a moment for him to find comfort in the company of men blessed by magic, men who were willing and able to help him manage the magic that was—literally—bursting through his skin. I took back my earlier grumbling about druids and a bird-man taking over our lives.
“He’s going to be okay, Calli.” Tanner came up behind me, put both hands on my shoulders, and pressed his thumbs into the rock-hard muscles of my upper back. He seemed almost absent-minded, the touch less about connecting with me as it was him wanting—or needing—reassurance.
Irritated by the undercurrent of Jessamyne’s presence, I didn’t want him touching me. I squeezed my shoulders toward my ears and sidestepped. “I wonder if I should let Harper go with James and Leilani.”
“I see no harm in that,” he said. “I imagine any home of Malvyn Brodeur’s is going to be extremely well protected.”
I agreed. “After they go, I want to hear about the portal and the portal…keeper? Guide? What do you call them?”
“Either. I want to hear about their discoveries too.”
James led Harper to the porch stairs and paused at the screen door. He adjusted the rolled cuffs of his baby blue button-down shirt and touched his chest where the edge of a decorative metal collar peeked out.
“Calliope. Tanner. I have news from Malvyn. And I will be taking Leilani home with me.” He glanced over his shoulder at Harper, who nodded but did not speak. “I’ve offered to let Harper come with us. Dependent, of course, on your permission.”
I gestured them inside. “I think Harper and Leilani are at a place where they can make their own decisions about where they want to be, and I trust you and Mal to prioritize keeping them safe.” I smiled at Harper. I wanted some levity in the house. “Take your phone charger. And message me. A lot.”
Harper’s features relaxed a little, enough he could shoot me a quick smile as he ducked around James. “I will, Mom. I’m gonna get Lei-li and my stuff.”
“Do you want waffles?” I asked my son’s retreating back.
“Four, please,” he answered, “and Lei-li usually has one, with bananas. She really likes bananas.”
* * *
“Two down, two to go,” I said. I watched James’s rear light signal a left-hand turn.
Before leaving with Harper and Leilani, James sat with us in the living room while the teens inhaled their breakfast at the kitchen counter. He explained his husband’s decision to accompany Sallie’s parents to the headquarters for Magical justice on the outskirts of Vancouver.
The Magical system of investigating complaints differed from humans’, and as part of the process of discovery in this type of murder investigation, a necromancer would be assigned to the case. The necromancer would attempt communication with the spirit of the dead hidden folk whose heads had been severed from their bodies. Such communication would entail disinterring the bodies from the burial mound and thawing the heads still stored in the Pearmains’ freezer.
All of this was unfamiliar to me. My heart ached for news of Abi and Cliff and broke for Sallie, who had opted to take her breakfast to the back deck when she saw James. She and Thatcher were glued together on the swing.
“Can I leave those two here, with Christoph, and come with you?” I asked, exquisitely aware of my responsibility to balance my son’s protection with assuaging my curiosity about the process due to unfold in the coming hours and days. A necromancer speaking with the dead was a phenomenon I had neither experienced nor imagined.
“Give us more time to finish disentangling Meribah’s blood from the wards,” said Wes. “Once we’ve done that, the three of us will cloak the property.”
“Isn’t it already cloaked?” I reminded them of James’s frustration at not being able to find the driveway.
“We experimented with the stretch of road from one shared property line to the other. Given what James saw, or didn’t see, it worked.” Kaz folded his arms. “I’m optimistic we can enclose the entire property in a kind of bubble that will allow humans to see what they’re used to seeing and keep Magicals from seeing anything but trees and bushes. But we’ve already talked about our concern around a potential connection between your ancestors and Meribah and the Flechette clan.”
The skin on my legs tingled. “I’m completely unaware of any familial connection between the Flechettes and my aunt prior to Doug and me marrying. I suppose there could have been a professional or business connection. Or maybe their real estate firm handled the sale of this property at one point? Would it help if I reached out to my cousins?” I shrugged. “What about that directory you mentioned, Tanner, the one that lists all the Magicals?”
“The directory I have lists only those living in British Columbia,” he answered, “though I could access directories for the rest of the Provinces easily enough. It’s anybody’s guess how accurate they are. Also, the Flechettes are Fae, and only Fae are granted access to their Faebook.”
“Faebook?” I asked. “Is that like Facebook’s magical cousin?”
Tanner nodded. “That’s exactly what it is. Factions of the Fae who mingle more easily with humans are quite adept at altering human-designed technology and systems—such as social media platforms—to suit their needs. I’ve heard that in order to be listed on Faebook, they’re required to reveal the faces they conceal behind their glamour. If other Magicals had access to that information...”
I gave a low whistle. “One of us should figure out how to sign in. Or hack our way in. For now, I can ask Christoph for more information about my father’s side of my family.”
“While you all work on that, I’ll take dish duty,” said Rowan. “If there’s anything needs doing after, let me know. I can stick around the rest of the day and night, but I’m on call this weekend.”
I smacked my forehead and groaned. “Crap. I woke up thinking it was Saturday, and it’s Friday.” I spun in my seat and patted my pockets. Kerry, my office assistant, was going to give me an earful. “Has any one seen my phone?”
“In the charger on the counter,” said Wes.
Ugh. I had a fleeting moment of wishing I was independently wealthy and could use all my time and resources in the pursuit of furthering my magic. And hosting magical gatherings, complete with one of those professional waffle makers and a bigger coffeemaker. My fantasy—and my call to Kerry—were cut off by the sound of sobbing.
“I’ll get her,” said Rowan. She darted past me and headed toward the back porch. I followed right behind.
Thatcher was standing, his arms around Sallie, bewilderment disfiguring his usually joy-filled face. “Mom. Ro. We need help.”
Rowan’s training in human and Magical healing took over. She guided Sallie indoors and waved at us to follow. “Thatcher,” she said, her voice measured and steady, “do you know if Sallie’s on any medications?”
He shook his head. “Her purse is upstairs. Want me to get it?”
“Please.”
Sallie, choking on her
tears and struggling to speak, became a dead weight in Rowan’s arms. As they folded to the floor, Sallie began to gag. She clawed at her throat, and short blades emerged from her fingertips and retracted, leaving ragged punctures and scratches on her skin. Her ears burst into points along the upper curve and reformed as her features shifted non-symmetrically.
“Guys,” I yelled, “we need you.” I held Sallie’s wrists then made room for Wes and Kaz to drop to their knees and assist Rowan. They turned the teen onto her side and cradled her head as she cycled through a series of erratic shifts, threw up her breakfast, and went limp.
“Mom?” Thatcher waited at the bottom of the stairs, a purse edged with fringe hanging from one hand. “What’s happening with Sallie?”
“She’s been away from her parents long enough for any glamour they use on her to have weakened.” Kaz looked up at me. “Especially if Josiah and Garnet have been confined to a lined cell.”
Lined cells. I hadn’t considered what it would take to confine Magicals, but there must be far more than bars and locks wherever Malvyn had taken the Flechettes.
“Mom?” Thatcher hadn’t moved, other than to raise an arm and show me his wrist. “Look.”
The braided bracelet Sallie made for him was coming apart, the ends actively un-twining until the strands fell to the floor, sizzling.
“Bring me her purse and go get the paper towels,” I said, “and a plastic trash bag. Under the sink.”
The contents of Sallie’s bag spilled out when Thatch dropped it, but nothing looked suspicious. Rowan held Sallie’s hair away from her face, as Kaz and the other three men crouched around the girl. I shook out the purse before squeezing the sides, bottom, and cover flap, looking for something, anything, that would explain the seizure-like activity.
I curled my fingers around Sallie’s neckpiece, a black leather dog collar with burnished metal spikes and two faux owner tags. A faint sensation like a constrictor snake preparing to coil and squeeze ran across my skin. I extended my arm. “I saw Sallie wearing this at the market the day I met Tanner. Could it be spelled?”
