“Jane Yellowrock is your sister,” I said baldly.
Tandy’s head jerked up. JoJo slid her eyes to me. “Need to know, probie,” she said. Meaning that I should have kept my big mouth shut.
“Yes,” FireWind said softly. He didn’t sound angry. His expression didn’t change.
“Does Rick know?” I asked.
“LaFleur knows almost everything.”
“Well. Okay then. I’m going onto the roof to read the land.” I got up and walked from the room, FireWind stepping aside in time for me to not bowl him over on the way.
•••
I had seen the square of wood planks that held the fifty gallons of Soulwood dirt. I had come up once and looked at it. It still bothered me, though saying why was beyond me. Maybe because the dirt was piled in a rough wood cage or low fence atop a flat-roofed, three-story building when it should be attached to my land. I knew that the high-in-the-sky part didn’t really matter, but it just felt wrong.
Dirt in a pot or on the flat, smooth roof, it didn’t matter. The soil knew Soulwood, was a part of Soulwood, and was therefore part of me. The mineral-based, modified bitumen surface could be easier to work around, or through, than old-fashioned tar.
The dark of early night grayed everything, and my eyes began adjusting to the lack of light. The door opened and shut slowly, on its own gravity power, and I watched as Occam peeled back a tarp, revealing the soil. The air was heavy and muggy and my skin was already slick with sweat in the heat. Lightning flickered on the horizon, and I hoped that might mean rain soon and cooler temps.
I kicked off my shoes and blew out a hard breath. The pale gray-white roof felt odd and sort of slick beneath my bare feet, still warm from the day, and nasty. The roofing material was a modified bituminous membrane roofing. The name sounded like pure minerals, but the bitumen was contained in atactic polypropylene, a chemical that I was pretty sure was toxic to plant-people. I could feel my body fighting off the chemicals and curled my fingers under, hoping I didn’t grow leaves whileup here, as part of my body’s immune response. I didn’t want the new boss to see them. He might know some things about me from reports, but that was a lot different from seeing me grow leaves. That felt oddly personal and intimate for a relationship that didn’t exist yet.
I stepped onto the dirt. It too was warm from the summer sun, and I wriggled my bare toes into the soil, sighing in happiness this time. I washome. I let go of all the tension that had squeezed my chest and hunched my shoulders and accepted the faded pink blanket Occam extended. I hadn’t thought about the blanket in my truck. I used the blanket when I read the land, and though I could likely read the land just fine without it, it was comforting to have. I dropped it and plopped to my backside on it. The loose soil gave and I sank farther before it compacted and I stabilized. I shuffled my hands beneath the surface of the dirt. Occam knelt beside me in the dark, his blade exposed and ready to cut me free.
Ayatas FireWind exited the door from the third floor, arriving last, probably after inspecting Rick and giving orders to the rest of the team. He took up a place behind me, his back to the waist-high wall that protected us from accidently falling and landing on the concrete below.
I closed my eyes and reached slowly for Soulwood. The land washere. And there. I merged myself from here into my land and followed it down and down, through the brick and steel and mortar and deep under the foundation. And out, seeking. There was broken rock to one side, a ridge of hills over there, and deep alluvial soil in the Tennessee River valley, left from ancient floods. There were buildings that had been dug deep, many stories down. Power plants that thrummed into the earth. Dams and tributaries and islands in the water.
Soulwoodreachedfor the blood that was still being poured onto the land, an elastic and thirsty yearning. The blood-sorcerer sacrifice was still taking place.There. I was ready for it this time and I shoved down on the bloodlust that tried to grab me, tracking the blood.There. Only a few miles away. I was grateful for Occam’s presence. He seemed to mute the effect of the bloodlust. I could search in safety.
Something else, something darker than my land, reachedout. Fast. Latched on to me. I knew it. The vampire tree. It too was sensing the blood from the sacrifice. It too felt a rising bloodlust. The tree sent its vision of the Green Knight into my mind, its armor made of metal in the shape of overlapping leaves. A crusading tree. And now there were two of us searching for the witch circle, which made it simultaneously easier to find and harder to resist. The witch circle was... there.
“Occam,” I whispered, a mere breath of sound.
I felt him sit behind me, encircling me with his arms, his legs out around mine. I leaned back against him, feeling his magic wrap around me, sigh through me. His magic was tied to Soulwood. Was tied to me. It hugged me like a warm blanket in winter.
There was a time when this type of contact would have been unpleasant, would have been a reminder of John and other things best forgotten. But it wasn’t, not any longer.
“Do I need to cut you free, Nell, sugar?”
“Not... yet,” I whispered.
“In that case, I need you to breathe.”
I took a breath, long and slow, and realized I hadn’t taken one in a while. Too long. I followed the blood, resting in Occam’s embrace, not giving in to the bloodlust that would make me claim the sacrifice for the land and then claim the earth there itself. And... thereby claim the curse for myself.Oh... that was possible. Care and care and greater care,I thought.
I placed the river bends. The direction of the flow. The position of the moon, still below the horizon. The hydroelectric power plants. The Watts Bar nuclear power plant, not so very far away, a beacon of heat and light. I also located the places where the earth was poisoned with radiation from the power plant and the testing at Oak Ridge. Classified places of poison and death and secrets. Secrets I could never share because there was no way I should know about them.
I let myself be drawn back to the sacrifice. To the blood.
And maggots.
SIXTEEN
“Vampires are being called,” I muttered. “Yummy hasn’t called me. Someone needs to contact the Master of the City. See if they’re being summoned this time too.”
I heard FireWind’s voice on his comms system, relaying the message.
“Occam,” I whispered, “I need a map of Knoxville. A paper map.” I meant most anything nondigital that magic wouldn’t ruin, remembering the paper map T. Laine had shown us once. Occam said something to FireWind and I felt more than heard his steps move away. Occam kept his arms around me.
