Page 106 of Woods of the Raven

He shook his head adamantly, but I nodded just as emphatically and turned to go.

I needed to be at home. It had started as a whisper of a thought, turned quickly into nagging, anxious need, but now I was basically shivering with the understanding that I had to reach my land. Something was happening, and I had to go.

I ran back to the Jeep and stripped fast, then slipped out of the passenger side, thrilled that everyone else had parked closer to the site but realizing I was still within the perimeter. I didn’t have incantations for becoming invisible or for people to look away. That wasn’t the kind of magic that lived in me. But what I did have going for me was the fact that people were moving with determination. They had a job to do, they had somewhere to be, so I waited a few moments, hugging the side of the Jeep, shivering in the wind, and as soon as I could, I seized the opportunity. I ran and leaped and was circling above them in moments. I checked on Lorne, saw him see me, clock my progress, and then I flew toward Corvus.

I flew by my cottage, saw that it looked fine, and then checked the rift and saw others there but didn’t dip down to see who. I was far too vulnerable in my current state, and if I needed to be human, standing there in nothing but my skin seemed like a bad idea.

At the back door of the cottage, I shifted, slipped inside, and was immediately confronted by a woman I’d never met before in my life. The clothes, however, were a dead giveaway.

“How are you here, Mattie?” I greeted her.

“I am only released from the veil for a short time. This was my home then, just as surely as it is yours now, so all of us, all your ancestors, may come to you in times of great need.”

Which I knew. I’d seen my grandfather speaking to many people over the years, who only he could see, who appeared when needed. Sometimes, like with my grandparents, they had appeared in a dream. But I suspected that at the moment, Mattie was the one who could offer me the most guidance.

“I need to put on clothes,” I told her. “Stay with me.”

“For as long as I am able,” she assured me.

She followed me to my bedroom, and as I pulled on clothes, she looked around. “Does it look different?” I asked her.

“No,” she answered, brows furrowed, “and that is troubling. Change what you will, Xander. You are not the caretaker here. This is your home. You need to make it your own.”

Her words surprised me. “But I shouldn’t alter what’s been here for—”

“Of course you should! It’s a home, not a museum. I suspect it wants to change for you or others. Again I say, it’s no monument to the past, but a home. Your home.”

She was right, and it hit me that I had been living in a shrine. I never wanted to do anything to disrupt the magic in the cottage, but just having Lorne there, or having Amanda and Declan visit, or her kids, just those people changed the energy. And it was a good lesson because I was guessing there was a solar-powered television set in my future. Lorne had so many things he wanted me to watch with him, and there was a football season, and baseball and basketball to consider as well. But really, it was time to modern up the joint, at least a bit. Mattie was right. I didn’t live in the eighteenth century, and there were things, like a cell phone, that I actually needed. It was time to embrace the twenty-first century—within reason. There could never be electricity on Corvus because it would disrupt the ley lines, among many other things, but change was good.

“And always remember,” Mattie said, breaking into my thoughts. “This building retains magic from many souls over the years, but the true living, breathing magic is in you.”

And she was right. It was a good reminder.

Once I was dressed, I faced my aunt many times removed. “Tell me about Threun.”

“He is a god of blood and destruction, from the mountains.”

Great. Not what I meant. “What about him getting through the rift?”

“Spencer helped make this house impenetrable to the fae,” she told me, singing his praises, I was guessing, so I’d understand the weight of her loss. “He was my friend and my love, and Libitina, Threun’s acolyte, murdered him, and everyone else in that barn.”

“Libitina?”

She nodded.

“I’m missing something,” I said out loud.

“Threun’s plan,” she explained, “attempted by his servant, Libitina, was for him to cross through the rift using the bodies as a bridge.”

“Right.”

“But, as you know, they had the wrong rift. It was too small to bring over a god.”

“Okay. That all follows, but how did Libitina find out about ours?”

She grimaced in pain. “I was…bereft. And in my anguish, I said more than I should have.”

“About our home.”