"Oh, great," I muttered. "No pressure. Just casually inventing a magical family legacy on a Tuesday afternoon."
"We’ve got this. What defines us?" Mom asked thoughtfully.
"Stubbornness," Nina said immediately.
"Sarcasm," I added, shooting her a look.
"Impeccable survival instincts," Nana chimed in cheerfully. "And a healthy disrespect for authority."
"Those are... actually not terrible foundations for a family rune," Luciana admitted, looking slightly surprised. "Resilience, wisdom, and independence. We can work with that."
That encouragement really got us going. We spent the next twenty minutes designing what was essentially the magical equivalent of our family coat of arms. The final design was surprisingly elegant. It was a circle with three interlocking curves representing the four generations. Inside that, there was a stubborn oak tree for endurance. A shield with crossed daggers for fierce protection. And what Nana insisted on calling a middle finger, but Luciana diplomatically described as a pointing finger representing independence and direction.
"I love it," Nina said, carefully carving our brand-new family symbol into her disc. "It’s us."
"It's perfect," I smiled.
As I carved our new family rune, something settled into place. Like the magic was recognizing and claiming us. It wasn't the weight of centuries of tradition like other magical families probably felt. It was something newer and rawer. But no less powerful. It was ours. Not bad for a family of magical newbies.
CHAPTER 11
"Tarja," I called softly, settling back against the pillows as Tseki left with Murtagh carrying the anchors. "I need you."
The sound of claws on hardwood announced my familiar's approach before she appeared in the doorway. Her tabby coat was slightly ruffled, and her green eyes immediately narrowed with that particular feline irritation that meant I was about to get lectured.
"Finally," she said, her mental voice carrying wounded dignity rather than outright disdain. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten I existed entirely."
My stomach dropped. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Tarja padded into the room with deliberate slowness, her tail doing that agitated twitch that never boded well for my immediate future. "It means, my dear witch, that for the past three days you have been carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders without once asking for help from the one being magically bound to share your burdens."
She leaped onto the bed and settled beside me, radiating dishonored pride like a furry storm cloud. "I thought we werepartners, Phoebe. I thought you trusted me to stand with you when things got difficult."
The weight of my mistake settled in my chest like a lead blanket. She was absolutely right, and we both knew it. I'd been so focused on protecting everyone, so wrapped up in crisis management, that I'd completely overlooked the one ally who'd literally bound her life to mine.
"Oh, Tarja, I'm so sorry," I said, reaching out to stroke her soft fur. "I should have asked for your help from the beginning. I think pregnancy brain combined with magical crisis mode just... I wasn't thinking clearly."
"You were thinking too much about protecting everyone and not enough about using all your available resources," she replied, her mental voice softening as she leaned into my touch. "I chose you, Phoebe. I bound myself to you and your chaotic family knowing full well the dangers that would follow. When you shut me out, it feels like you don't trust the choice I made."
"It's not about trust," I protested. "I trust you more than almost anyone. Leaving you out wasn't intentional. I've been struggling to keep up with everything that's been happening. It's not an excuse, but it's occupied my mind entirely. I haven't even remembered to eat."
"Well, when you put it like that," Tarja purred, her offense clearly melting away, "I suppose I can forgive your temporary lapse in judgment. Now, what is this plan that finally requires my considerable skills?"
I took a deep breath as the tension between us eased. "Tseki needs to place the anchors at Mount Katahdin. It's dangerous, and he'll be working blind once he gets there. I need someone I trust absolutely to guide him through the process."
Tarja's ears perked forward with genuine interest. "What exactly do you need me to do?"
"I need you to make sure he places them in the exact right spots. And to be our communication link," I said, placing a hand on my belly as the triplets stirred with sudden attention. "Your telepathic abilities are the only way I can stay connected to what's happening without risking magical detection."
"I'd be happy to maintain a link with the dragon," she said, her purr deepening with satisfaction. “In fact, he’s ready.”
Tseki's voice suddenly filled both our minds with characteristic draconic directness. “We've reached the base of the mountain.”
I felt Tarja's mental presence expand, creating a three-way connection between us. Through her abilities, I could suddenly sense Tseki's dragon form circling the sacred site. His massive wings cut through air that felt thick with ancient power.
“I can feel the ley lines from here,”he continued, his mental voice tight with concentration. “They're more corrupt than we anticipated. The whole area feels like it’s dying.”
“That's exactly why we need the anchors placed precisely,”Tarja responded with feline authority. “Land near the eastern face, where the old-growth forest meets the stone. You'll feel a pull toward the convergence-point.”
