“This way,” Melody said. Picking up her long skirt to avoid it dragging on the grass, she led Tyr around the side of the house. “I’ve been doing some research, and I wanted to check a few things. Do you mind?”
“Not at all. It’s part of what I’m here for. I really appreciate the help, by the way.”
“No problem.” She flashed him a smile. “I’ve had plenty of help from people around here with my own problems. We help each other. And from what I hear, you’re working hard to be a good dad to your and Paula’s kids. I respect that.”
Not so much lately, Tyr thought, a little guiltily. He had been consumed with Cela and the babies. But the kids would be out of school in a week or so, and he planned to take full advantage of the summer free time.
Melody went to an RV parked beside the farmhouse.When she opened the door, it became clear that this was like no RV Tyr had ever seen.
“Is that full of books?”
Melody smiled at him over her shoulder. “It’s our traveling bookshop. Gunnar and I spend the winters in the south, where it’s nice enough to set up outdoors, and come north when the weather warms up. We’ll be in Autumn Grove for a few weeks, so make sure to come see us in the parking lot of the library on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, and the big lot at the fairgrounds the rest of the time!”
“I will,” Tyr promised. “Cela loves books; they’re one of her favorite things.”
“I knew I was going to like her.”
The interior of the RV was dense with bookshelves. Melody gestured him to a comfortable reading chair tucked up against one of the shelves, opened a window to let in fresh air, and turned on a lamp.
“It’s less crowded in here when I have the sides opened up, but they’re a bit of a hassle to set up, so I hope you don’t mind.” She pulled out a plastic crate with the top bungeed down. “Not all of my books are for public consumption. Since Ben told me about your issue, I’ve been looking through mythology books and books on magic.”
“Have you found anything?”
“It’s a tough research challenge because most of the magic you find in books is either fake or not what we’re looking for. Lots of information on purifying spaces and so forth, which may or may not work, but it’s not meant for this kind of thing.” Melody turned from pulling out books. “Do you mind if I see your tattoo?”
“You already saw it when you and the rest of your friends got together to scare me off Paula last winter,” Tyr said, trying to make a joke of it as he rolled up his sleeve.
“I know. But I didn’t get more than a glimpse.”
Tyr exposed the tattoo’s intricate swirling pattern. Melody gave him a questioning look as she put out a hand, Tyr nodded, and she carefully lifted his arm so she could examine it.
After all these weeks of having to avoid touching Cela, there was some irrational part of him that expected a painful shock when Melody’s thumb brushed the tattoo. But there was none. It was just like any other part of his skin. He tried to avoid looking at the exile mark disrupting the lines.
“This is really interesting.” Melody bent over to peer at it, pushing her glasses down her nose so she could look over the tops from just a few inches away. “This isn’t a regular tattoo, is it? I mean, apart from the magic, obviously. But I’ve never seen anything quite like this. It’s not really on the skin or under the skin. It looks like itisyour skin.”
“It is,” Tyr said. “It’s put on with magic.”
Melody looked up at him with her nose almost touching the tattoo. She straightened up and pushed her glasses back up her nose. “It’s not done with a tattoo needle?”
“No. There’s a ceremony the elders do when we come of age. The tattoo comes up from under the skin, no needle involved. It looks a bit different for every person, and it’s always in the clan colors. They told me the island itself is magic, and this is my connection to it so I can always find my way back, no matter how far I roam.”
He recalled the strange feeling of watching the red and brown lines blossom into existence, his clan colors, like paint swirling up from the bottom of a cup of water. He’d felt simultaneously thrilled, a boy teetering on the edge of manhood, and also slightly unnerved.
“That’s incredible,” Melody said. Sitting on her heels beside the crate, she looked up at him where Tyr had crouched in front of her so she could see the tattoo. “I had no idea.”
“Does that change things?”
“Well ... no ... but it’s something of a different problem, don’t you think? If your elders made it appear by magic, could they make it disappear the same way?”
“We’ve talked about that,” Tyr said. “Cela’s afraid that if she goes back to the island, they’ll do something even worse. I don’t think it’s possible to remove it, personally. I’ve never heard of anyone having one taken off once it was put on, even if they decided to stay off the island for good.”
“How often does that happen—griffins leaving the island and not coming back?”
“A few times in every generation. Sometimes young griffins go missing on walkabout, and we never really know what happened to them. Some people fall in love with the outside world, or with someoneinthe outside world.” He thought of Paula, but it was with the kind of wistfulness of remembering a beloved childhood toy you’d outgrown, or an old friend who had long since fallen out of touch.
“And they don’t lose their tattoo?”
“No, they get this.” He lightly touched the parallel scars raking his arm.
