Page 108 of Woods of the Raven

“Yes,” I agreed.

“So the original plan, Threun’s plan, set in motion by his servant, Libitina, was over. Gaeidhel knew that. The long plan, hers, had to come into play instead.”

“Sower you said.”

“Yes,” she replied with a resigned sigh.

I understood then. “She planted something that would take time to grow. Deep into the ground, slowly, where no one noticed.”

“Yes. I didn’t know. I checked, but saw no sign that anything had been disturbed.”

She wouldn’t have. Gaeidhel had sown seeds and there was no way for Mattie to have known that. No one knew. No one suspected.

Bridge, planks, all of it made sense because it was over the ground. Gaeidhel had planted in her world and done the same here, on Corvus. “But the land would never allow something tainted to—”

“It’s a plant, nothing more, an innocent, only seeking another just like it, as is its pattern of growth. They fuse and grow together.”

Gaeidhel had planted seeds in the ground on Corvus the last time she was here, and now, there were roots, looking to join the other, from Threun’s realm, and make it a cakewalk for him to pass over.

“She planted the seeds,” I reiterated to myself, putting the puzzle pieces together. I had it all wrong before. It had not been Rulaine after all, but a new player: Gaeidhel, who was working the long game. “Because she knew she could.”

“Yes.”

“I bet she checked on them, made certain it was growing.”

Mattie nodded.

“And she could come and go because you were drowning in your grief,” I said, trying to keep the judgment out of my voice.

“Yes. Both Spencer and Hillary were…more to me.”

I was listening, but she’d failed in her duty as guardian and that hurt.

“We were all leaving Osprey, but I was abandoning Corvus as well,” she confessed. “My desire to be with them surpassed my duty to the land. We wanted to be together someplace where a half-Iroquois woman, a Black man, and a white woman could be left in peace.”

It was all making a lot more sense. Spencer was killed, Hillary killed herself, and Mattie was left alone, utterly heartbroken.

“I stayed afterward, once they were both gone, and poured all my pain and misery into the land. I hurt Corvus greatly.”

I had no doubt.

“It’s fortunate for all that my little brother, Roland, returned from the wilds of California with his new wife, Zaneta, and their children, before I took my last swim in the ocean.”

It was painful to hear. “I’m so sorry.”

She nodded. “I was weak. I should have put aside my pain and—”

“You did the best you could,” I soothed her even if I didn’t agree with what she’d done. But what would piling on guilt do now? Instead, I told her about Dominic’s song and his feelings about her.

“He sounds lovely.”

I nodded. “Thank you for coming. I was going to look for your journal.”

“I burned my journal. I regret that, and so came to you so you would know what is not written down anywhere.”

“I’m going to start journaling myself.”

“Good. It is necessary to pass information. Write down all I have imparted here.”