Eileen Wilks: Humon Error

Benedict was silent a moment. “You would also know if a small dog left your land, then.”

That surprised a chuckle out of her. “True. Havoc’s on his way back. He’ll be here any minute.”

“Good.”

“I would also know if a Native Power showed up in my barn.”

“Would you?” He gave her a sidelong look. “Coyote is called Trickster for a reason.”

“Hiding his nature being a form of trickery, you mean?” Robin considered that. Sighed. “I don’t know. It shouldn’t be possible, but . . . I don’t know.”

“You’ve got a lot of confidence in your ability to read what the land tells you. It sounds like what sidhe lords do. Their power is tied to their land.”

“Several hundred years ago, a Wiccan priestess did a great favor for a wandering sidhe lord. In recompense, she was taught how to link to the land. That teaching came with a price: she had to accept a binding such that she could pass it on to only one person, her successor. Both binding and teaching came to me from Clay’s mother, Belle, when she decided to step down as High Priestess after Samuel died.”

Benedict studied her face, his own expression intent. “You will pass this land-tie on to someone eventually.”

“I . . . yes, of course.”

“Had you planned to pass it to Arjenie?”

Arjenie’s breath sucked in. Benedict was being far too clever today.

“I had hoped to,” Robin said steadily. “She tells me that won’t be possible now.”

Benedict turned that intent look on Arjenie. “What had you hoped?” he asked very softly. “Was this something you wanted?”

It would be easier to tell him no, she’d never wanted to be High Priestess and custodian of the Delacroix land. But you didn’t build a healthy relationship by lying. “Sometimes I did. Sometimes I didn’t. I wasn’t at all settled about it, and some of my uncertainty was because I hoped to find a life partner. If whoever I loved couldn’t settle happily on this land, then I couldn’t, either.”

He studied her face a moment longer. “This is something you thought about before you and I met.”

She nodded.

The corners of his mouth turned up. He touched her cheek lightly, then turned to Robin. “You have reason to be disappointed that I’m Arjenie’s life partner.”

“She was my choice for my successor, and she tells me you can’t move here, that you have to live at your clanhome. So yes, in that sense I’m disappointed. But the most important elements about her choice of life mate have little to do with me and everything to do with you and her.”

He nodded. “I can’t tell you that I’m the best man for her, and there’s little point in my speaking about what I’d do for her. Words prove nothing. You’ll have to judge by my actions. I have some questions about the land-tie.”

The abrupt change of subject made Aunt Robin blink. “There’s very little I can tell you and, of that little, even less I’m willing to divulge.”

“You literally can’t reveal the technique, but you can speak of its existence. You don’t, because you don’t want word getting out that you have an ability some would be desperate to possess.”

“That’s right.”

“You say you would know if someone stepped onto your land, and you would act. I’d like to know what type of action you’re speaking of.”

“I won’t tell you that, but it would depend on the nature of the intrusion.”

“What about when you’re asleep? Is this knowing . . .” Benedict stopped. His head turned, his nostrils flaring slightly.

“It’s Sammy and Seri,” Robin said. “At last.” She gave him a sidelong smile. “Havoc is with them, so you can stop worrying.”

Aunt Robin always referred to Sammy and Seri by name, not as “the twins.” She said they had enough trouble differentiating themselves without her group-naming them. Arjenie turned to look. Sure enough, Seri was opening the gate in the fence that separated yard from woods. Havoc trotted through the gate next to Sammy, who held a pair of burlap bags.

“I’d prefer to wait until they’re inside to continue our discussion,” Robin said. “They know about the land-tie, but they have opinions. About everything. I’m not in the mood to hear their opinions about my revealing it to you. That’s purely my decision.”

Did she mean the twins had opinions about Benedict already? Before they even met him? Probably. Arjenie had talked to Seri a few times since she met Benedict and moved to California, and her young cousin been typically nosy but hadn’t seemed especially upset or worried. Sammy, now . . . he hadn’t been curious enough, had he? Bright and cheery and full of his own news, not asking many questions. Which struck her as odd now.

“Arjenie tells me the stone used in Clay’s workshop was quarried at the same place that supplied the stone for the White House,” Benedict said conversationally.

Aunt Robin took up the topic gladly, talking about other local buildings built from sandstone as the twins approached—Sammy at his usual amble, Seri hurrying ahead with Havoc. “. . . used a mix of lime, rice glue, casein, and lead to seal the stone back then, which is why those buildings were—Seri, good grief.”

Seri had wrapped her arms around Arjenie in a hug—and boosted her right off the ground. “It’s so good to see you!”

Arjenie’s cousin was a full head shorter than her and nowhere near strong enough to pick her up this way—except that her Gift gave her a boost. Telekinesis. “Okay, Wonder Woman, you’ve been practicing. Now put me down.”

Seri did that but kept her hands on Arjenie’s arms. “You look fantastic.”

“So do you.” Arjenie grinned and flicked a strand of Seri’s very short hair—a new look for her, but Seri liked to change things around. So far she’d changed her major twice. “Got that unisex thing going, I see. It’s cute on you.”

“Unisex!” she cried, indignant.

“Now pretend you have some manners so I can introduce you. Benedict, this brat is my cousin Seri. Seri, this is Benedict.”

Benedict had bent to offer Havoc his hand to sniff. Either the little terrier had forgotten their earlier encounter, or she’d decided all that dominance stuff was resolved. He straightened and held out his hand. “Good to meet you.”

Seri let go of Arjenie and smiled to give Benedict the benefit of her dimples as she took his hand. “You’re a big one, aren’t you?”

“Big enough. I hear you like to ski.”

“I love to ski, and I’m good at it. Much better than my twin.”

Sammy arrived with a snort of amusement. “She likes to fall down. Good at it, too.”

“And who broke a leg winter before last?”

Sammy turned to Benedict. “I’m the better skier, but like I said, she falls really well. Much better at falling than me. She’s had so much practice. I’m Samuel, but everyone calls me Sammy.”

He didn’t hold out a hand, but then, his hands were full with those sacks.

“Good to meet you,” Benedict said. “You’ve been collecting holly.”

“For wreaths. Seri got this notion that she just had to make a couple wreaths, and nothing would do for that but fresh holly, so we’ve been tramping around the woods for hours. Not that the wreaths won’t look great, but—”

“They know about Uncle Nate’s dream,” Arjenie told him.

“Oh. Well, in addition to looking gorgeous, they’ll offer some protection when we add the elderberries and a whiff of magic.”

“Hazel,” Seri said firmly, and bent to pick up Havoc, who was panting tiredly.

Sammy shook his head. “Not hazel. I keep telling you—”

“Why reinvent the wheel when—”

“Persimmon seeds worked in the—”