Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
I pulled my new phone out of the back pocket of my jeans. “Yeah, see?”
“Oh, that’s amazing. Now I can just call you when I have questions about something. Gimme that.” She motioned to my phone.
Passing it over so we could swap numbers, I asked her if she had ever heard of Parker’s Ferry.
“What are you talking about? Of course I know Parker’s Ferry. You do too. We used to swim down there in the summers before—” She looked up at me. “I’m sorry my mother was so stupid back then, Xan.”
I shrugged.
“Stupid?” Lorne asked Taylor.
“Because Xan’s gay, she didn’t want me around him.”
“Ah.”
“But she’s changed since my sister’s oldest came out.”
“What is that saying about whoever it is you hate will wind up in your family?” he commented, shooting Taylor a look.
I waggled my eyebrows at him.
“She never hated you,” Taylor clarified. “She just didn’t understand and didn’t want me to become a lesbian.”
“Because it rubs off.”
“She’s very different now,” she defended her mother, “but again, I’m sorry.”
“I know you are,” I said, giving her a gentle pat on the arm.
Inhaling quickly, she blew out the breath just as fast before passing me back my phone. “Now, what’s your question?”
“Where we swam is Parker’s Ferry?”
“Yeah.”
“Interesting, I never knew that.”
“That’s because there were never any signs out there,” she reminded me. “How would you know? I didn’t until I started doing my research.”
“Yeah, but tell me, do you remember the story about the cannibals?”
She shook her head. “Turns out they were cultists. Some Celtic god who wanted to wash the world in blood or some such.”
I knew all that, but her correcting me let me know we were on the same page. “And do you know where they lived? The cultists?”
“Oh yeah. Lemme show you on my phone. I took vast amounts of pictures of the maps in case Joanna locked them away again.”
“That woman sounds really mean,” Lorne stated.
“You have no idea,” Taylor huffed out before turning her phone sideways and enlarging the piece she wanted to show us. “And you’d think with me being married to a councilman, she’d be less of a bitch. I mean, he can help the library with funding.”
“Like she cares,” I scoffed.
Taylor sighed. “Okay, so look, in relation to the river where we used to swim, this is where the Phoenix Farm was.”
“Phoenix?” Lorne asked.
“Yes. They were like a lot of cults—certain they would die but be reborn in their heavenly reward with their god.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“I don’t know. The farm itself was built over ley lines, much like Corvus, but the ones on your land have never been mapped. The ones out there by the Phoenix Farm were, and they’re a bit strange.”
“Strange how?” Lorne asked.
Taylor lifted her phone, and after some button pushing and swiping, pulled up more pictures to show us. “See? It looks like it’s supposed to be an octothorpe, but the lines don’t form a fully connected grid.”
“Looks like a hashtag or a tic-tac-toe sign,” Lorne said.
“That’s what an octothorpe is,” Taylor told him with a bit of attitude.
“Remember when you didn’t know what that was?” I reminded her, my tone sharp. She could get snippy with me, but not Lorne.
“Yes,” she said quickly, glancing at him. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine,” he assured her, taking hold of my hand and giving it a squeeze. “But I see what you mean about the lines, they look off, like they’re not quite touching.”
“Exactly,” she agreed, then turned back to me. “And this sign here was supposed to represent a door or a cell—which you know because you’re the one who taught me all the Viking runes. I mean, the interpretations are ancient, so we could be reading way more into this than there really is. Plus, ley lines aren’t exactly something we can say are scientifically absolute.”
“True,” I agreed, though I knew better. The reason the ley lines on Corvus were never mapped was because it was earth magic at work. My ancestors had forged protective symbols deep in the ground, and if there was a map, anyone would surely see the Seal of Solomon clear as day. Our lines were not there to lead off our property like others. There were no fairy paths to follow, instead warding for once the rift appeared, as it was of vital importance to protect our world from whatever tried to come through.
Looking at the symbol Taylor pointed out, I was reminded of my dream that morning. The planks, the bridge, all of it. Perhaps my entire dream sequence had nothing to do with Corvus but instead another rift.
I had no doubt that the place where Rulaine and everything else had come through was on that farm. There was probably a small tear there the cultists had tried to make bigger at one time, hence the killing of the blacksmith and heaven knew how many others.