Iron Bones

  I blew him a kiss, then called Marilee back and told her I’d be right over.

  Angel was gathering her things, and Talia was talking to her.

  “I’m off to meet with Marilee now.” I realized that I still hadn’t told Angel about my parentage. I also realized that we had come together in my car and I would be leaving her stranded. “Crap. Talia, can you run Angel home? I need my car and don’t have time to go back to the condo right now.”

  “Sure, but who’s Marilee?” Talia squinted. “What’s up? You’re hiding something.”

  I glanced at the clock. “I’m not trying to hide anything. Can you come over tonight for dinner? After I get home, I’ll tell you both what’s going on. Right now, I have to run.”

  Talia agreed, and I waved and took off.

  Marilee lived near the arboretum on Boyer Avenue, before it merged with Lake Washington Boulevard. I had spent a fair amount of time in the two hundred–acre preserve.

  Home to an incredible array of plants and trees, some of them exotic and rare, the arboretum was a mutual endeavor between the University of Washington and the city of Seattle proper. Over the years, the staff to maintain it had changed and was now mainly composed of Fae. The gardens were bigger and more beautiful than ever, and the arboretum was spectacular.

  I had a momentary impulse to take a side trip through one of the trails nearest to Marilee’s house, but shook it off. She was expecting me, for one thing, and for another, tomorrow would bring a long hike and I didn’t want to wear myself out before we got there.

  Marilee’s house reminded me oddly of a Japanese pagoda. At least the roof did, with a slight curve up on the edges and a steep slope up to a point at its apex. The house itself was a lovely shade of green, with manicured herb and flower gardens that almost overflowed their borders.

  I parked in the driveway and jogged up the porch steps. I had barely rung the bell when she opened the door.

  “Ember? Come in.”

  Marilee looked nothing like I had expected. I didn’t even know what I had expected. Around five-four and petite, she looked to be around her mid-sixties to early seventies. She was human, or at least she looked it, and her hair was pulled back into a shocking silver braid. Her eyes were pale blue, and she both looked her age and yet didn’t. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a neatly tucked-in polo shirt.

  “Hi, Marilee?” I walked into her living room and was hit with a tranquil, Zen energy that flowed through the house. Everything seemed in its perfect place. A water fountain sat in one corner, trickling water over bamboo shoots and rocks. The walls were painted a misty gray with a blush of pink spreading through it. The polished wood of the tables and bookshelves had a soft glow to it. The living room opened right into the kitchen and dining area, flowing smoothly, and everywhere, the house seemed thoughtfully arranged, yet not so rigid that it felt untouchable.

  “Morgana told me about your predicament. We’ll get you situated.” She motioned for me to follow her. “Please come this way.”

  “How long have you been one of Morgana’s priestesses?” I found myself breathing easier as she led me through the living room. The worries of the day seemed to fade into the background.

  “All of my life. My mother served her, and her mother before that. I was brought up to be her priestess.”

  Marilee led me into a hallway with five doors—two to the left, two to the right, and one on the end. As we passed the first door on the right, she pointed to it.

  “There’s the restroom, if you need it.”

  We entered the room at the end of the hall and I caught my breath. The energy practically sang here, reverberating through the air, ricocheting off the walls. The room was filled with crystals. They were on shelves, on four altars spaced evenly around the room. A few even hung from the ceiling, cradled in wire woven hangers that gently cupped the spheres and eggs.

  A round table sat in the center of the room, a black and silver cloth stretched over it. In the center of the table was a clear bowl filled with water and a variety of small crystals and seashells. A small bucket rested to one side of the bowl. Two chairs sat on opposite sides of the table.

  “Please, sit down. I’m going to cast a Circle so no wayward energies will be attracted to our work.”

  Marilee walked over to the altar in the west, which looked dedicated to water, and picked up a sharp blade. The dagger was long and narrow and the hilt looked to be made of mother-of-pearl. It was wrapped with silver wire, and glimmered in the afternoon light. The window just above the altar looked over a wooded expanse, right into the arboretum.

  “If you’ll sit down at the table, please.”

  I sat, placing my hands on the table as she began to circle the room, blade pointing toward the walls. She began to chant:

  Circle of power, Circle of might,

  Strengthen the wards, lock them tight.

  From Earth to Air, From Water to Fire,

  Strengthen these rites, may they soar higher.

  From Star to Sun, from Earth to Moon,

  Morgana’s will, become our boon.

  Marilee joined me at the table as the energy settled around us like a warm blanket. “We’re ready to begin. Hold out your left hand, palm up, please.”

  I did as she asked. With her left hand, she took hold of my fingers, bending them back over the bowl of water. With her right, she raised her dagger and I realized she was going to slash my hand.

  I looked at her. “What—”

  “Hush. This will not harm you.”

  I closed my mouth. Morgana had given me over to her. It was my place to trust that everything was going the way it should. I waited, nervously. Marilee slid the tip of the dagger along the surface of my palm. It was razor sharp—so much that I didn’t even feel it as it pierced my skin. A thin wheal of blood rose along the cut. Marilee squeezed my palm, and the blood began to run along the skin. She nodded to the bowl.

  “Place your hand in the water for a moment.”

  I did, wondering what she was doing. The moment my hand met the water, it reminded me of a paraffin dip. Something warm and viscous encased my palm, like some invisible glove, or amoebic creature. A second later, what felt like a tongue began to lick the blood off my hand. Thoroughly creeped out, I almost pulled away my hand but Marilee hadn’t given me permission yet.

  “What’s happening?”

  “The Veni-noir is tasting your blood so it can help me see into your nature. Now, please, remove your hand and remain silent until I tell you to speak.”

  I zipped my lip.

  Marilee dipped a ladle into the water and waited. Then, as I watched, something mostly translucent crawled into it—it looked like a tiny octopus. She poured it into a goblet and stared at the crystal glass for a moment before cupping it in her hands. She held it up in front of her, closing her eyes.

  Vein to vein, blood to blood,

  Life force moves, visions flood.

  Bind with me, I bind with you.

  To thy nature, sight be true.

  Then, without opening her eyes, she lifted the goblet to her lips and upended it, chugging down the contents. I grimaced as the creature’s tentacles disappeared between her lips. Marilee shuddered, wincing as she swallowed. I wanted to ask if she was okay, and what the hell was she doing, but I didn’t want to disturb whatever spell she was casting. I had no idea what would happen if it went wrong and I didn’t want to be responsible for any backlashes or glitches.

  One moment passed, and then another, and finally Marilee opened her eyes. As she held my gaze, I realized I wasn’t looking into Marilee’s soul, but the soul of someone else, someone far more ancient and cunning.

  She spoke, and the voice seemed to be coming from a distance, from somewhere in the back of her throat—it was raspy, like the wind streaming through a dried cornfield. As far as I could tell the voice was female.

  “Ember Kearney, I have tasted your blood. I feel the autumn nigh
ts that run through your veins. I sense the hunger that lurks deep inside, waiting to be free. I see the dark skies that give you blessed cover, and the spiral that waits to unfold.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say, or if I should say anything, so I just listened. Whoever was speaking to me, their words were setting off an explosion of sparks inside, and it felt like I was waking up. With each word, another explosion of recognition flared. I knew this creature, even though I didn’t yet recognize it. But I knew it as sure as I knew my own name.

  “You are nearing the Cruharach, as it comes spiraling into your life. You must prepare. You are not ready for it and it will rise and swallow you into the darkness if you remain closed to yourself. I see the bloodlines.”

  And then, before I could respond, Marilee grabbed up the bucket, groaning, and leaned to the side. She gagged, and although I couldn’t see what she was doing, I heard a splash and realized she had vomited into the bucket. A moment later, she sat up again, groaning, and placed the bucket on the table.

  “Excuse me. I’ll be back—don’t worry, this is normal.” She stood and, carrying the bucket, exited the room.

  I stared at the bowl. The water remaining in it was clear. There was no sign of my blood—no sign that anything was in there beyond the water and crystals. I was feeling a little queasy, given what had just happened, but I was more curious than anything.

  Marilee returned, bucket in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Inside the glass, I could see the tiny creature that she had swallowed. The tentacles were waving, so it was still alive. She poured the water and creature into the bowl and sat down, placing the bucket back in its place.

  “You can speak now.” She looked a little worn.

  “What the hell just happened? What is that thing? Who was speaking through you?”

  “One question at a time. I’ll answer them all, but before that, you need to know that the Cruharach is dawning in you. Within a couple months at most, it will be on you, and we have to make certain you’re ready for it.”

  “What happens if I’m not ready?”

  She remained impassive, but a look of compassion filled her eyes. “With your bloodlines? Ember, you could die.”

  Chapter 13

  “HOW WILL I know when I’m…” I wasn’t even sure what I was asking.

  “You’re already in the beginning stages. The Cruharach usually takes a couple of months to fully manifest, and then a couple more to end. I’ve seen this before, so I know the signs.” Marilee held my gaze and I suddenly had the feeling she was far older than she looked.

  “What are you?” I asked, aware that it was a rude question, but wanting to know just who I was dealing with.

  She arched her eyebrows. “Not exactly diplomatic, but given that you’re fast-tracking on a path you know little about, I forgive the tactlessness. I’m one of the magic-born.”

  That made sense. The magic-born were those who weren’t quite human, but were born into magical families. They were usually quite long-lived, and they tended to blend in with the rest of human society until you looked below the surface. They aged slowly, though not as slowly as the Fae, so Marilee must be ancient, given she looked in her seventies.

  “You said you’ve served Morgana since you were young?”

  “I’ve been her priestess since the day I was born. My mother gave me into her service when I was barely two years old. As to what you’re really asking, I’m over a thousand years old. I’ve lived dozens of lifetimes in dozens of places, moving on when it became apparent I wasn’t aging like my friends. Now, of course, it doesn’t matter. I remember when everyone first emerged from the shadows. It was well before your time. The turmoil that ran through the world…but in the end, it brought relief to the SubCult, and to those humans who had discovered the truth and weren’t believed.” Marilee smiled and her eyes sparkled. She suddenly looked dazzling and beautiful.

  “You said, while you were in trance, that you could see my bloodlines?”

  She nodded, the smile slipping away. “Yes. Morgana is correct. You have the blood of the Leannan Sidhe in you, and also of the Autumn Stalkers. Both are strong, and their natures fight one another. The resulting mix will be fascinating to watch. I cannot tell you if one will win over the other, or if they’ll blend into some kind of mutant strain, but make no mistake: this is going to make the Cruharach more difficult for you.”

  “How so? Don’t most Fae have different strains, though they’re usually from the same Court?”

  “Not as much as you would think. And usually matches are engineered to produce the least resistance and trouble. I think our first step should be to introduce you to your lineage in the truest fashion. I intend to introduce you to your potential, should either side win out and negate the other.”

  I was beginning to have flashbacks of my grandfather, wanting to root out and eradicate my mother’s bloodline. “I won’t become fully Dark or Light, will I?”

  She shook her head. “Not to worry there. That never happens, but in cases like yours, usually one side will become dominant. When the races are similar, it doesn’t create much conflict, but in your case, the battle could tear you apart. Which is why you can’t be allowed to go through the Cruharach without help.”

  “How comforting.” I shivered, suddenly growing cold. Actually, I just wanted the Cruharach to go away and leave me alone. I liked myself the way I was.

  “How much will this change me? Will I be the same person?” I gave her a pleading look.

  Marilee searched my face. Then she knelt beside me, taking my hands.

  “Ember, don’t worry. You’ll be who you are. It’s just that your burgeoning powers will lean—or generally should lean—more toward one side than the other. While you might find some aspects of your nature will change, this won’t erase who you are. It won’t erase your passions and joys, your memories or your desires. No worries over that.” She smiled then, a kindly grandmother-like smile.

  I tried to believe her. Tried to accept that everything was shifting around me as it should, but I just wanted to feel settled again. “All right. What do I do? Tell me what I need to do.”

  “I’m going to give you a tincture. Then I’ll guide you to meet yourself. Or rather, one side of yourself. We won’t know which until you take it, but I should be able to identify which lineage is coming to the surface first. We’ll work on the other side later.” She walked over to a cabinet that sat against one wall and pulled out a bottle. “This compound is safe, but it will send you into a deep trance. You need to let it do its work and not fight it. Do you understand?”

  I nodded. “Got it. All right. What do I do?”

  “Hold out your tongue and I’ll drop the tincture on it. Then just let it absorb inside your mouth, and you’ll find yourself turning inward. Don’t be worried if it seems like you’re hallucinating—this is a vision quest. However, your body will be here with me, even if your mind goes wandering, and I’ll be watching over you the entire time. I’ll be able to bring you out of it, should the experience become too intense.”

  “Is there anything else I should do to prepare? Can I go to the restroom first?” I realized that I did not want to be caught in the middle of a ritual needing to pee.

  She laughed. “Of course.”

  In the restroom, I peed, then washed my hands. As I stared at myself in the mirror, I realized I was afraid. I was afraid that I’d go in as me, and come out of the trance as somebody else.

  “That’s silly,” I told myself. “You’re not in the midst of the Cruharach yet. You’ve got a little time left. At least, I hope so.” Finally, I had no excuse left. I returned to the ritual room.

  Marilee was waiting. She had changed into an indigo gown, off the shoulders, and belted at the waist. She was wearing a circlet around her head, with a sparkling sapphire in the center of a crescent moon, tines pointed up.

  I stared at her. “This is for real, isn’t it? We’re not just doing a si
mple meditation.”

  She held my gaze. “Everything is a ritual when you’re pledged to the gods, Ember. Every sneeze, every movement, every thought is a prayer. Life is a ritual, when you think about it. We’re seeking important knowledge about your future. The quest deserves a little formality, don’t you agree?”

  Her words echoed in my heart. “I need to sit down.” I sank down onto the floor, staring at the hardwood.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It just hit me that…I’m bound to a goddess. I’m pledged to Morgana. This isn’t a game or lip service or like signing up for a gym membership. This is for life.”

  I felt stupid saying it—it should have been obvious, but I had been taking it lightly and now, I was beginning to understand just where I stood.

  Morgana owned me, heart and soul. I reeled from the realization that, no matter what, she would always be with me. No matter where I was, what danger I was in, or how alone I felt, she would always be there. She might not speak to me all the time, but she was in my heart and in my life for good. I looked up at Marilee. She had a knowing look on her face.

  “You begin to understand what it means to belong to a goddess. This is part of the journey, Ember.”

  I nodded. “I’m ready, I think. Whatever this brings, I’m ready to face it.” I swallowed hard. “What should I do?”

  “Stay on the floor and give me your weapons and any electronics you may have. You are to lie down and spread your arms to the sides and your legs wide to form the points of a pentacle. I will draw another circle around you so that nothing can get in…or out.” The last, she said so softly I almost didn’t hear it.

  After handing her my dagger and a pocket penknife, and my purse with my phones and tablet in it, I lay down while she took them outside of the room. When she returned, she was carrying three bowls on a tray. She sat them on the table and picked up the first.

  “I put your things away for their safekeeping. And for our safety.”

  She spread a ring of salt around me, an inch wide, making certain every bit of the floor surface was covered. Then, from the second bowl, she added another ring, this one I recognized as frankincense. And the third, she lay a ring of something that made my body tingle from where I was lying.