“Shh.” I head to the closet. “You did your science project on the shield, didn’t you?”
“Yep. Miss Robinson gave me an A+ and took my picture for the achiever’s board.”
I’m only half-listening now, abandoning my path toward the closet for his laptop on the desk. Why they thought they’d find more answers from a grade seven science project than on the internet is beyond me—or beyond the reason of two bottles of Redbreast Whiskey.
As soon as I type in my search parameters, I know that Calum is on to something. When the map comes up, it exactly mirrors where we saw the ley lines die off.
I laugh and shake my head. “We wondered what was shielding this part of the country from nature’s magical bounties and it’s an actual freaking shield—three million square miles of solid crystalline rock exposed during the glacial shift two billion years ago. It covers more than half the country.”
“Problem solved.” Calum curses while fighting with his button fly, then kicks his feet to free his legs from his pants. “You’re welcome.”
The kicking gets frantic, and I abandon the computer search before he hurts himself. I grab his pantlegs and free his feet. After folding his jeans, I set them on the dresser and go back to staring at the image on the screen. “We know the problem. Now we have to figure out how to fix it.”
“What the fuck are you brewing, Fi?” Kevin steps into the kitchen with his hand cupped over his nose. He quickly grabs a dishtowel and fortifies his defenses. “That smells like festering maggots. Tell me you don’t intend to eat that.”
I stir the pot simmering on low on the back burner of the stove. “Not me. It’s Gran’s never-fail hangover cure. I asked her to send it first thing this morning.”
“Oh, and who do you hope to poison with it?”
“Your better half and Sloan were up brainstorming until almost five this morning.” I pull two mugs down from the cupboard and divvy up the mixture so each of them gets a couple of inches at the bottom. Then I grab the coffee pot and fill the mugs to half. After giving it the sniff test, I smile. “They won’t even know about the festering maggots part.”
Kevin takes a guarded sniff, then flashes me a grin. “Sneaky. So, druids do potions and stuff like witches? I haven’t thought it all through, but that’s cool.”
“Some things overlap. I don’t know much about the other magical groups yet, but yeah, White Wicca follows the same practices. Respect nature, nurture and grow, and the power of healing found in essences, herbs, and crystals.”
We carry our offering up to the bedroom, and Kevin gets the door. He takes one look at Calum half-dead in his boxers and Sloan still in his usual GQ fashion, lying face-first on the floor and drooling. “And a good time was had by all.”
“By them, maybe. Not so much for the girl who got woken up while they rummaged in the closet at four-thirty looking for Calum’s grade seven science project.”
Kevin smiles and stares off into the distance. “Ah, Miss Robinson. She had the nicest, big, round…eyes.”
I laugh. “Calum said boobs.”
“Oh? Really? I hadn’t noticed.” He laughs harder when I peg him with a look. “Hey, I’m gay, not blind. Those were confusing times.”
I hand him one of the mugs. “You take Robin Hood, and I’ll take McDreamy Drooler over here.”
Kevin checks out Sloan and grins. “Aw, look how sweet he is snuggling one of Calum’s Vans. You should get a picture of that for later use.”
“I like the way you think.”
Kevin moves on to revive Calum and sits on the edge of the bed. “And why exactly was Calum looking for his science project in the early-dawn hours?”
I set my mug on Brendan’s dresser and take out my phone. After I snap a few quick pictures for posterity, I roll Sloan over. No change. Man, he’s out cold. “Well, despite the drunken delivery of brilliance, they get full points for solving Canada’s magic problem. They are the heroes of the hour.”
Kevin looks from Calum to Sloan and laughs. “I don’t think they’re up for accepting their medals just yet.”
Between the two of us, Kevin and I revive our little hungover heaps, get them to drink their potions, then leave them to die another death. It’ll be interesting to see how quickly Gran’s miracle of hangover recovery takes effect.
Until then, we head down to the dining room to continue where we left off last night.
“So, you think it’s the stone of the Canadian Shield blocking the flow of ley line magic?” Dillan looks at Da, who’s in his suit and ready to leave for work. “What do you think, Da?”
He’s leaning over my shoulder and reading the science pages I have pulled up on my laptop. “It’s possible. I’d even say probable. It says here the shield is a solid sheet of Precambrian igneous and high-grade metamorphic rock, and that it covers the area we know has no access to ambient magic.”
“Damn. The area it covers is huge,” Dillan says.
I zoom out so they can see the map. “Three million square miles from Michigan and New York up to the Arctic and Greenland.”
Da straightens and checks his watch. “All right. Call yer Gran and Granda and talk to them about how we might create access to the magic beneath, assuming there is magic beneath.”
“Oh, I believe there is.”
Da kisses the top of my head. “Always my optimist.”
“Or crazy dreamer.” Dillan winks across the table. “And if there is magic below the stone, we have to figure out a way to unblock it, go out and get it done, and have the city powered back up by tomorrow or the next day before every angry preternatural being in a city of three million ends up on our doorstep to destroy us, our grove, and our fae who stole from them.”
“Busy, busy,” I say.
Da checks his watch again and frowns. “Calum and Sloan get another twenty minutes to pull their shit together, then sic Emmet on them. They’re the men of the hour, but we don’t have time for them to rest on their laurels right now.”
Emmet snorts and rubs his hands together. “Is it all right if I hope they don’t get up?”
I laugh. “Do you have something devious planned for them already?”
His grin is too funny. “Who, moi?”
“Yer out of luck this time around Emmet,” Sloan says while jogging down the steps to join us. “We’re both alive and well and reporting for duty.”
“Well damn.” Emmet grabs his coffee mug and stomps toward the kitchen. “That’s really freaking disappointing.”
“I’m off.” Da grabs his sack lunch off the table and waves at us. “Keep me posted. I’ll see Aiden at the station later. I’ll fill him in and have him check in after his shift. It’s all hands today, boys and girl.”
“Safe home, Da.” I give the dining room table a hard rap with my knuckles.
“Safe home,” is repeated by one and all.
I check my phone and calculate the time change between Toronto and Ireland before sending the text requesting a video chat with Gran and Granda. The response comes almost immediately. Then the invitation pops up on my screen.
“Good morning, you two.” I smile at my grandparents’ foreheads. They haven’t gotten the gist of where the camera is on their computer yet, so they never look in the right place. That’s half the fun.
“Hello, the house,” Granda says.
After everyone finishes with the pleasantries, I explain our ambient magic dilemma and our theory about the Canadian Shield being the problem. “So, what we need to know is one, if we’re on the right path, and two, how do we penetrate the shield and release the magic mojo?”
“And three,” Dillan adds, “how do we do that before warlocks and werewolves come to rip out our throats?”
“Have ye got a werewolf problem?” Granda scowls. ”A nasty bunch, them.”
I shrug. “We have no idea who’s out there yet.”
“Other than Black Dog bastards,” Calum says.
“Yeah, other than them. So, the stone… Gran, you’
re our nature expert. How do we get around this?”
Gran is staring at the maps and frowns. “Technically, Toronto isn’t built above the shield. Lugh, correct me if I’m wrong, but if I’m reading these maps right, the stone ends at the top of Lake Huron and runs east to the top of Lake Ontario. Toronto is nestled between three lakes and pocketed. I’d say the shield is cutting you off from the ley lines but the city itself isn’t shielded.”
Calum unfolds an insert and expands the map. “Okay, I’ll buy that, Gran. So, if we’re below the bottom edge of the stone and the rock is cutting off the flow of magic before it gets to us, how do we free it to flow here?”
“I’d say use the lakes.”
I look from Gran to the map and back again. “How so?”
“Water is a conductor, and three of the five Great Lakes surround you. Use that to your advantage. If there are veins of magic suppressed under the stone of more than half yer country, it’ll have filled all the cracks of all the passageways as close as it could flow to the surface. My guess is if you find one or two large ley tributaries and connect them to the waterways, the magic could flow straight to ye.”
“Does anyone have a map of the water table?” Sloan asks. “Or maybe a flow diagram of where the tributaries of the lakes are near enough to the surface that we might be able to free magic to seep into it?”
“Oh, this is good.” I look at the maps. “You’re right, Gran. If ley lines run under Canada the same way they do in other places of the world—”
“And there’s no reason to suggest they wouldn’t, luv.”
“Agreed. Then if we find spots above us on the map where we can free magic into lakes and streams, it stands to reason the magic would flow right to us.”
“I like the sound of that,” Calum says. “Flowing right to us sounds easy.”
I snort. “When has anything we’ve done been easy?”
“Hey, Negative Nancy, there’s always a first time.”
“My advice to ye,” Granda leans toward the screen, “is that ye trek out in different directions and stop at intervals along rivers, streams, and inland lakes. Use a Rock to Water spell to drill down and see if ye sense any magic.”
“How deep will we have to cast down into the stone?” Emmet asks.
I skim the text on page after page of information. “It looks like anywhere up to five miles.”
“Shit, that’s deep.”
I nod. “Do we have the juice to do that?”
Granda frowns. “Hopefully, if ye hit a vein of power along the way, it’ll give ye the strength to drill the next site. And so on. And so on.”
“And if we don’t?” Emmet asks.
“Och, well, then the experiment will be over before it starts, and ye’ll be preparing for unwanted guests.”
Gran smacks Granda in the shoulder. “It’ll work. Positive energy. Take yer casting stones and branch out. Druids are the protectors of nature. Anything within that realm falls within our domain. I have faith in this and all of ye there doin’ the work of the goddess.”
I study the faces around the table and draw a deep breath. “Thanks, Gran. It looks like you’re the only one who does.”
Chapter Eighteen
We’re in the back lane, getting ready for our nature excursion when a breeze picks up and swirls around me. I catch a chunk of hair as it flips up and into my face. Red, I need to talk to all of ye before ye go. Meet me in the grove.
I close my car door and relock my truck. “Momentary delay, boys. Bruin needs us in the grove before we go.”
“Has he got news?” Dillan asks.
“Do bears shit in the woods?” Emmet asks.
“Wouldn’t that be shitting in our backyard?” Calum asks. “You’re never supposed to shit in your backyard.”
“I thought it was don’t shit where you eat.”
“Well, we eat in our backyard.”
“But we’d never eat shit.”
“No. I prefer to eat humble pie.”
“I’d eat crow.”
“I’ve seen you eat your heart out.”
“Can’t have your cake and eat it too.”
Sloan stops and stares at my brothers.
I grab his wrist and tug him along with me. “Don’t stare or you’ll get sucked into the vortex of nonsense. They get like this when they’re anxious.”
“It’s incredible,” Sloan says. “They don’t miss a beat.”
“Years of practice,” I say.
“Practice makes perfect,” Emmet says.
“No. Perfect practice makes perfect,” Dillan says.
“Practice what you preach,” Calum says.
“Practice is the best master.”
“Master your fear before it masters you.”
“Eternity is a master. Time is its disciple.”
When we arrive beneath the leafy canopy, I scrub a hand over Bruin’s ear and hold up my other hand to silence the insanity. “Thank you for that whirlwind of proverbs, quotes, and senseless sayings, boys. Bruin, you now have the forest floor. Take it away.”
Bruin lifts his black nose and sniffs the air. “Last night when we were out here, I thought I smelled a familiar scent. It was similar to the one intent on draggin’ Fi into the woods at the battle to reclaim the fae at Ross Castle.”
I shiver while remembering the dark yearning I felt coming from the shadowed darkness. “Similar to? What do you mean, buddy? It wasn’t the same guy?”
Bruin shakes his head. “It was, and at the same time, it wasn’t. It was a transferred scent. The person I smelled wasn’t the same male but he’d come in contact with him—and recently by the scent’s strength.”
“Was it a member of the Black Dog scoping out the house?” Sloan asks.
“I can’t say. I tracked his scent to a subway station and deep into the tunnel where the tracks disappear, but once I got down there, I couldn’t track it any further.”
“Ye lost the scent?”
“No. The scent of his kind floods the entire place—the man who was here, not the one I smelled from Ireland.”
“And he went to the subway?”
“He did. There is a maze of tunnels down there, and I got turned around more than once. With all the air smellin’ like that species, I found it disorientin’.”
“But you didn’t recognize the species?”
“I didn’t. I’m sorry.”
I wave that away. “Don’t worry about that. It still tells us that whoever was skulking around lives down in the subway tunnels and is in cahoots with the creepy Creeping Vine guy from Ross Castle.”
“And that he knows where we live,” Dillan adds.
Sloan frowns. “Vampires then, or maybe trolls, or goblins. Mound dwellers or crypt, I’d guess.”
“What do they want with Fi?” Calum asks.
“I can’t say.” Bear’s words are more growl than voice. “So far they’ve been movin’ outside the periphery of her life, but that could either be curiosity or gathering intel. Until we know for certain, we need to keep our guard up.”
“Thanks, Bruin.” Calum pats my bear’s muscled shoulder. “And you have my vote to go Killer Clawbearer on anyone who comes at Fi.”
“Mine too,” Dillan says.
Emmet nods. “Mine too. Slice and dice and we’ll pick up the pieces later.”
“I appreciate all the testosterone in the air, but let’s not borrow trouble.” I hug my bear and kiss his ear. “Like you said, maybe these tunnel-dwellers are simply curious about the weird new girl on the preternatural block.”
Sloan’s scowl is firmly locked in place. “Still, I say we take the time now and boost the wards around the property before we leave.”
I huff. “That’s overkill, Mackenzie. The day is already getting away from us. We should focus on our waterway work today and circle back to this in a day or two.”
“How long will a power-up on the wards take?” Calum asks Sloan.
“If you boys help, an hour tops.”
Emmet raises his hand. “He has my vote, too.”
Calum nods and raises his hand. “Sloan for the win.”
I open my mouth to argue and Dillan cups his hand over my lips. “Look at it this way, Fi. If we strike out on the waterway work, our home will already be warded before the big bad wolves come to huff and puff and blow our house down.”
It’s obvious that I lost this one before I began.
“All right, Sloan. Tell us what you need and let’s get it done ASAP.”
With the wards up, the enchantments secured, and the entire property charmed to only let in us, Sloan, and humans we invite onto the property, Sloan and the boys finally give me the thumbs-up to get back to the immediate problem at hand.
Mission: Penetrate the Shield is a go.
The convoy sets off an hour and twenty-five minutes later. Sloan goes with Calum and Dillan to help them with their spells, and Emmet comes with Bruin and me with the hope that his buffer abilities will amp me up and give us the power we need to get things done.
Bruin is on edge and coming as my guardian bear more than a magic helper, but Sloan and my brothers feel better that he’s sticking with me, so I don’t argue.
Our plan is simple. Pick the strongest, most encompassing waterways, and go as far as we can making as many stops as we can.
Emmet and I are headed straight north to the Oak Ridges Moraine, the Rouge River System, Lake Simcoe, and Lake Scugog. Then we’ll make our way farther east to Rice Lake, the Trent-Severn Waterway, and the Bay of Quinte.
Team Two is going the other direction and tackling the Don River, the Sixteen Mile Creek, Humber River, Credit River, and ending up at the Niagara Escarpment.
“Surely, between their list and ours, we’ll be able to get something happening.”
“It’s too bad we don’t have time to get all the way out to the Laurentian River Systems.” Emmet thumbs through data on his phone. “That river predates the recent ice ages and is filled with glacial debris. I bet we could find a way to drill down through the stone of the shield. It deposits more water into the system than any other waterway in Canada.”
A Sacred Grove (Chronicles of an Urban Druid Book 2) Page 17