Caitlin sighed. “I don’t know. We never really talk about love. He’s started talking about our future together. He’s talked about buying a house, and he said that he doesn’t mind if I work.”
I grimaced. That kind of thinking had never been a part of the magical community, though it was still too rampant in the human realm. “I thought cats were more matriarchal.”
“The lions, yes, and housecat shifters, definitely. Tigers can go either way. But among the Mount Baker Bobcat Shifters—my Pride—the men tend to govern. If I want to remain part of the clan, I have to abide by the rules.” Caitlin reached for a brownie. “I’ll try to feel out what Arlo—my fiancé—is thinking. For all I know, maybe he’s in love with somebody else, too.” She paused as my phone began to ring.
I glanced at the screen. It was Millie Tuptin. “Hey, what’s up?”
“I called to find out how Tad and Hank are doing.” Millie paused, then added, “Two of the search and rescue team fell ill. I sent them to urgent care, and the doctor can’t find anything wrong with them.”
“Did you send them to an urgent care facility that focuses on Otherkin?”
“No, they’re human,” she said. I could hear her tapping on the desk with a pencil in worry.
“Why don’t you call Dr. Fairsight at the hospital? Ask her to see if what’s afflicting them is the same thing that Tad and Hank went through.” I paused, then added, “We’re going to talk to someone to see if there’s a way we can break the curse. If not, then it really would be best to build a security fence around the entire area.”
“Will you let me know what you find out? I’ll have my men head over to the hospital. So, about Tad and Hank?”
“Oh, right. They’re being released today, so they should be back in the office by the afternoon.” I chatted with her a little more, and then hung up.
“Millie?” Caitlin said.
I nodded. “Two members of the S&R team are sick. I’m losing hope that we can cleanse the land. Sometimes curses are too ancient and embedded to break.”
“True, but there has to be something we can do.” Caitlin dusted her hands on her pants. “I’m going to wash up, then why don’t we tidy up the office for when the boys get back?”
We spent the next twenty minutes organizing files and cleaning and dusting. Then, at 10:45, we headed out in my car for Rowan Firesong’s house.
Rowan Firesong was not only the oldest witch in Moonshadow Bay, she was one of the most powerful. I had the feeling there were others like her, hidden out of sight. Powerful magical beings usually played it close to the chest. The more powerful you were, and the longer you lived, the more enemies you accumulated.
Rowan’s house was back from the curb, and was also buttressed against the Mystic Wood. The thicket wove its way around Moonshadow Bay in a U-shape, surrounding the entire town with a cloak of magic and shadow.
The one-story house itself was old and weathered, but not in that falling-down way that abandoned houses had. Ivy and barren rose bushes climbed the trellised arch that arced over the sidewalk leading up to the house. Mullioned windows lined the cottage walls, shuttered against the windstorms that raged through the Pacific Northwest.
The yard was full of trees—cedar and fir, and a massive weeping sequoia that bent and twisted into something akin to a faerie-tale creature.
“This is beautiful,” I said, transfixed by the chaotic yard. The snow covered most of the grass, but ferns poked through the blanket of white. Hydrangea bushes lined the walkway, along with giant patches of mums, silent under the mounds of snow.
“Her yard is as wild as the Mystic Wood,” Caitlin said. “We’re being watched.”
I nodded. I had the same feeling. I glanced around and then my gaze lit on an owl perched in one of the fir trees. It sat perfectly still, watching us.
“Her familiar, ten to one.” I nudged Caitlin’s arm and nodded toward the bird.
“Hmm, I think you’re right.”
We climbed the three steps that led to the porch. A porch swing hung from the ceiling next to the door. I looked for a bell, but there was only a knocker shaped like a gargoyle. I raised the heavy brass knocker and rapped it twice. As I did so, I caught a whiff of perfume from behind my right shoulder.
You didn’t think we’d let you walk into this house without one of us here?
I recognized Esmara’s voice and laughed.
“What’s funny?” Caitlin asked.
I started to answer when the door began to open. “Tell you later,” I said, though I was pretty sure that Rowan would be able to sense Esmara’s presence.
Sure enough, Rowan glanced over my shoulder. “Come in, you three.” She nodded toward the living room.
“Three?” Caitlin asked as Rowan hustled her in.
“Tell you later,” I said again, following.
Rowan was lean and weathered, with her long silver hair pulled back into a bun. She wore a denim jumper over a peasant blouse, with what looked like a pair of pinking shears in her pocket. Her eyes glinted, her gaze darting over us. I could tell she missed nothing.
“Sit down, both of you.” Rowan motioned to the sofa. She sat in a rocking chair opposite. “Tell me why you’re here. I have a busy schedule, so you’ll understand if I do away with chitchat and the usual niceties.”
The look in her eyes was stern, and her tone made it clear she didn’t suffer fools, small talk, or anything else that might waste time.
“All right, we’ll come straight to the point,” Caitlin said.
Together, we laid out what had happened with our clients, then Tad and Hank, and with the property. Now and then, Rowan interjected a question but for the most part, she kept silent until Caitlin and I finished.
“So, we’re wondering if you can clear the curse on that land.”
“If I can’t, what will you do?” she asked.
“Tell the real estate developer to look elsewhere. Ask the chief of police to erect a fence around the perimeter to keep people out. Put up warning signs,” I said.
Rowan frowned, leaning back in her chair. “Tell me, January—what do you think about this? What do your instincts tell you?”
I glanced up at her. Of course Rowan would be able to sense my magical signature.
“You know I’m a witch, then?” I asked.
“Yes, and I know you’re Fam-Trad. Your guardian is standing right behind you.” Rowan laughed. “I helped your great-grandfather found this town. Of course I know who you are. And you,” she said, turning to Caitlin. “You’re a young bobcat shifter—still finding her way in the world.”
We stared at her, at a loss for words. Rowan had a way of taking over the room.
“Well, I asked you a question,” Rowan said, turning back to me. “And don’t ask your guardian—I don’t want to know what she has to say about this. I want to know what your instincts are.”
I closed my eyes and lowered myself into a trance, trying to sink past the fear. As I pictured the land and the institution, it seemed covered with a gray miasma, a shadow of smoke and grime and age. I drifted even lower—past the building, down into the earth below the brick and mortar.