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Authors: Alayna Williams
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perched in a small clearing. More than twenty years old, the wood siding had faded to brittle silver, and the tin roof glinted in the meager porch light that had been left on. Adrienne waited at the edge of the tree line, watching the cabin. She circled the property and peered into the windows, holding her breath to keep it from fogging the glass.
No movement in the house. Not that she’d expected any. The bed in the only bedroom hadn’t been slept in. Adrienne knew Juliane’s daughter had gone to chase the scientist. With effort, Adrienne held her desire to rush into the house in check. For all she knew, Tara might have left someone here, behind her.
Adrienne paused at the edge of the property, pressed her bare fingers to the frosty earth. This place was strongly Tara’s; she could feel her residue in its sluggish, wintry pulse. For a geomancer, such earth was nearly as good as access to her prey’s flesh for magickal purposes. She scraped aside a patch of snow and reached into her jacket pocket for an empty bottle. She unscrewed the cap and filled the bottle with slivers of frozen earth. The bottle felt icy against her ribs when she tucked it back into her jacket, as if a shard of ice had been embedded between her ribs.
She gathered a handful of small sticks from the perimeter of the property. This was Tara’s land, and the roots of the trees extended below the small cabin. The trees absorbed sun and shade, and a good deal of the daily hum of Tara’s psyche and habits. They would make excellent divinatory fodder.
Traditionally, runes were cast with stones. In the Viking system, stones were marked with one of twenty-one runes and selected at random to interpret the underlying meaning of a question. Adrienne had found using materials from a subject’s location was often more effective than using a static set of tools.
She paused in a small clearing, holding the bundle of sticks in her hand. She centered herself, breathed her intent to them with frigid breath steaming through the sticks. “Tell me what I need to know about Tara.”
She opened her hands and scattered them throughout the clearing. To the untrained eye, they landed in a disorganized mess of pick-up sticks lying among stones and desiccated grass clumps poking up through snow. Adrienne’s eye roved over them, searching for a configuration of sticks corresponding to the runes carved into her memory.
Her eye skimmed to the northernmost part of the clearing. North was the cardinal direction of earth, of stability, of material things. Her attention caught on a pair of sticks crossed in an X shape, crowned with a stick broken to form a V. The formation reminded her of the rune Othila. Othila was a rune of separation, of inheritance. Judging by the remoteness of the property, Tara had thoroughly separated herself from the rest of the physical world. This could be good for Adrienne. It was unlikely a woman in exile would have made much of an effort to maintain her professional contacts or physical resources.
Oriented to true north, the rune was reversed. This suggested Tara had become bound by her exile, trapped or unwilling to move to new patterns. The rune also suggested inheritance. In this case, Adrienne suspected the inheritance aspect of the rune dealt more with the line of succession established by the Pythia, and Tara’s rejection of it.
Adrienne stuffed down a flash of rage and turned her attention back to the makeshift runes.
The cardinal direction east represented the mind and intellectual faculties. It was the direction of messages. Adrienne probed the sticks for a weakness she could exploit. She found a trio of sticks forming an angular, reversed F. The rune Ansuz spoke of signals and messages. Tara had accepted Sophia’s summons. But Ansuz was also sacred to the Norse god, Loki. Loki was a notorious trickster. Adrienne suspected Tara had not been told the whole truth, that there was some element of deception to the message. Tara did not,
No movement in the house. Not that she’d expected any. The bed in the only bedroom hadn’t been slept in. Adrienne knew Juliane’s daughter had gone to chase the scientist. With effort, Adrienne held her desire to rush into the house in check. For all she knew, Tara might have left someone here, behind her.
Adrienne paused at the edge of the property, pressed her bare fingers to the frosty earth. This place was strongly Tara’s; she could feel her residue in its sluggish, wintry pulse. For a geomancer, such earth was nearly as good as access to her prey’s flesh for magickal purposes. She scraped aside a patch of snow and reached into her jacket pocket for an empty bottle. She unscrewed the cap and filled the bottle with slivers of frozen earth. The bottle felt icy against her ribs when she tucked it back into her jacket, as if a shard of ice had been embedded between her ribs.
She gathered a handful of small sticks from the perimeter of the property. This was Tara’s land, and the roots of the trees extended below the small cabin. The trees absorbed sun and shade, and a good deal of the daily hum of Tara’s psyche and habits. They would make excellent divinatory fodder.
Traditionally, runes were cast with stones. In the Viking system, stones were marked with one of twenty-one runes and selected at random to interpret the underlying meaning of a question. Adrienne had found using materials from a subject’s location was often more effective than using a static set of tools.
She paused in a small clearing, holding the bundle of sticks in her hand. She centered herself, breathed her intent to them with frigid breath steaming through the sticks. “Tell me what I need to know about Tara.”
She opened her hands and scattered them throughout the clearing. To the untrained eye, they landed in a disorganized mess of pick-up sticks lying among stones and desiccated grass clumps poking up through snow. Adrienne’s eye roved over them, searching for a configuration of sticks corresponding to the runes carved into her memory.
Her eye skimmed to the northernmost part of the clearing. North was the cardinal direction of earth, of stability, of material things. Her attention caught on a pair of sticks crossed in an X shape, crowned with a stick broken to form a V. The formation reminded her of the rune Othila. Othila was a rune of separation, of inheritance. Judging by the remoteness of the property, Tara had thoroughly separated herself from the rest of the physical world. This could be good for Adrienne. It was unlikely a woman in exile would have made much of an effort to maintain her professional contacts or physical resources.
Oriented to true north, the rune was reversed. This suggested Tara had become bound by her exile, trapped or unwilling to move to new patterns. The rune also suggested inheritance. In this case, Adrienne suspected the inheritance aspect of the rune dealt more with the line of succession established by the Pythia, and Tara’s rejection of it.
Adrienne stuffed down a flash of rage and turned her attention back to the makeshift runes.
The cardinal direction east represented the mind and intellectual faculties. It was the direction of messages. Adrienne probed the sticks for a weakness she could exploit. She found a trio of sticks forming an angular, reversed F. The rune Ansuz spoke of signals and messages. Tara had accepted Sophia’s summons. But Ansuz was also sacred to the Norse god, Loki. Loki was a notorious trickster. Adrienne suspected Tara had not been told the whole truth, that there was some element of deception to the message. Tara did not,
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