How could the police have known about them?
The question ran around and around in Della’s mind as they sat cramped on the deck of James’s fishing boat. There wasn’t room in the cabin for all of them. James stood inside at the wheel, and Cassandra had gone in there with him. There was no more room for anyone else.
So the rest of them sat uncomfortably on coils of rope and bunches of netting as the rain and the waves sprayed in their faces. The sea was rough but not dangerously so. It was the least of Della’s worries.
She couldn’t understand how the police could have known their intentions, unless some mage had divined it and tipped them off to stop them from getting rid of the spell.
Could it have been that circle in Stromness James had mentioned? They didn’t seem to care what happened to anyone else. But why would they actively try to stop them? That made no sense.
The question remained unanswerable. The main problem was stopping the spell, and that would require being initiated.
Her dream was coming true. In her sleep, Della had seen a woman getting initiated in the Orcadian Rite. She had never suspected that it had been a projection of herself.
Della trembled. For the past few months, this new reality had slowly been soaking into her consciousness. The violent episodes in Oxford and London had terrified her and forced her to rethink everything she thought she knew about the world. But it had been the quieter times, the times she had cloistered herself in her apartment, that had really allowed her to accept this new reality. Aunt Mary had patiently been lending her a series of books to read. At first, Della had read them with scoffing amusement. That had been a façade, though, a defense mechanism. A last-ditch effort of her consciousness to reject having to completely change its worldview. As she read more and more that made sense of her terrifying and undeniable experiences, however, she began to accept what she read with a fearful resignation.
And then something strange happened. Something that she should have recognized as an old habit in a new situation.
She began to study occultism like any other subject. For hours she’d read through increasingly complex texts, weighing the strength of various theories of magic, tracing the lineages of certain rites, and prying out the details of ancient practices from vague and often contradictory sources. Della even toyed with the idea of writing an academic article about the contribution of ancient beliefs to modern occult practices. Leaving out the fact that it was all true, of course.
Della had turned it into a course of study. Like archaeology or laboratory techniques or Old English.
But it wasn’t a course of study. It was a bunch of survival techniques. It was manipulating power to get what you wanted or save your own life.
Or everybody’s lives.
Now she saw why she had so readily let Aunt Mary ply her with books. Books were familiar. Safe. Even when they were about real things, they had a comfortable detachment from reality.
Like her life, most of the time.
But she couldn’t enjoy a state of intellectual detachment from her new reality. Not anymore.
She had read enough to know what initiation into any rite involved. It meant presenting yourself to the spirit world and vowing to have a deep connection with it. It meant giving up pretending this was a mental game and getting into it for real.
It meant taking a final step she had never thought would be asked of her.
She needed to talk with James.
Della stood, taking the wide-legged stance she had seen the stewardess take on their stormy flight, and waddled to the cabin.
Cassandra was at the wheel. James was standing close behind her—way too close, with his arms around her and guiding her hands.
“I tell you, girlie, you’re a natural! Water magic is your Talent, sure as sunrise.”
Della couldn’t help but smile. Cassandra had finally found a man who would pay attention to her. Of course it was a man in his forties who, a couple of hours ago, had been pointing a shotgun at them, but obviously Cassandra was too eager for attention to care.
“Excuse me,” Della said, blushing. Interrupting them felt pretty awkward.
James and Cassandra looked over their shoulders.
“Oh hey, you want a turn at the wheel?” James asked.
Cassandra elbowed him. “She’ll drown us all, you silly man.”
“I need to talk with you about the initiation,” Della said, feeling her face go scarlet.
“Bah!” Cassandra untangled herself from the fisherman, who quickly took hold of the wheel. “All work and no play.”
She left the cabin so Della would have room to enter.
“Why did you pick me?” Della asked.
“You’re the most powerful, like I said,” James said, not taking his eyes off the rough sea.
“I had a dream about this. I dreamt of a woman lying on a beach at night, weighed down by seven stones. She cried out, ‘To thee! To thee! In your domain between the land and the sea!’”
James nodded. “That’s the ritual. You’re fated to do it.”
“What does it mean? Who was the woman speaking to?”
“The spirits. There are spirits of the land and of the sea. Proclaiming yourself connected to them in a spot that’s both land and sea makes you aligned with both.”
Della felt a chill. “And then what?”
James looked her over for a moment before going back to steering the ship.
“Then you become a practitioner for real. You’re new, aren’t you?”
Della nodded. “Very new. I didn’t even know about this stuff six months ago. A lot has happened since then.”
James nodded. “Yes, I can see that. I can see that as plain as day. It’s a pity. We need you because you’re the most powerful, but I won’t lie to you. It’s dangerous to do what you need to do without any real knowledge.”
“There was a third part of my dream. One I haven’t mentioned.”
“Tell me.”
“It was a playground with a bunch of children. They were all laughing at a girl with a crow’s head. The girl looked upset and clutched her head and let out a cry. Then a woman came through the crowd and shouted at her for not remembering something she had been taught. She slapped the girl, and her head turned back to normal.”
The fisherman let out a long, low whistle. “You really do have the Sight, don’t you? That’s an old Orkney folktale.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Well, it’s pretty much as you told it. A witch woman is teaching her little girl the Craft, and the girl gets to boasting to her little friends that she can do all sorts of magic. They don’t believe her, and to show off, she turns herself into a crow. Except she didn’t remember the whole spell for getting back into human form.”
Della nodded, her heart going cold. “It’s a warning. A warning not to overextend your magical knowledge.”
“That’s right.”
“And now I have to get initiated and help stop a spell started by someone who had way more power and knowledge than I do.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
Something in the water to her left caught her eye. The gray hump of a seal undulated through the waves. Della studied it. She was no expert, but it looked a bit strange for a seal, long and too thin. It kept moving, and its movements looked odd, more like a person swimming than an animal.
The creature poked its head above the water and looked directly at the boat. Della’s breath caught. It had the face of a man!
A moment later it was gone. She blinked. Had she truly seen it?
The radio in the boat crackled. Someone said something in a foreign language. James picked up the microphone and replied in the same language. Della didn’t even look at him. She was still scanning the waves, hoping for another glimpse of the thing.
A distant horn sounded off to their left. Della spotted another fishing boat close to the horizon. James laughed, sounded his own horn, and said something over the radio.
The language sounded familiar. Scandinavian, but with a different, harsher tone to it.
“Is that… Old Norse?”
“That’s right,” James said, giving her an admiring look. “Cassandra mentioned you’re a student of history. Some of us have kept the old ways here.”
“What does the harbormaster think when he hears Old Norse over the radio?”
The fisherman chuckled. “He thinks we’re part of a folklore group. We put on shows and museum exhibits for the tourists. Not many know what we really do.”
“Who’s that in the other boat?”
“Reinforcements. More are coming. Don’t worry, you won’t be on your own.”
“Glad to hear it.”
James’s face went grim. “You should be. If you had to do this on your own, I doubt you’d survive. And if you did, you probably wouldn’t want to.”
Della went cold. She looked out at the rough sea, where in the distance she could see the low hills of Mainland. They’d be there soon. The light was already fading. Soon it would be time for her initiation. And then…
She shuddered, leaving the cabin to take refuge with her friends in the rain.
“Send Cassandra back,” James called over his shoulder. “If we’re all going to die, I’d like to get my fun while I can.”
Della relayed everything she had heard. Everyone listened in grim silence, even Cassandra. When she finished, Della asked, “Do you think it’s all true? Can we trust him?”
Lucas nodded. “Yes, it all makes sense. If he was one of those who sent the fire demon at us, he could have shot us back in the house or called the police. I think we have to do it his way.”
“Local magic caused this thing,” Cassandra said, “and it will take local magic to put it down.”
Della felt a tug of despair. So she’d have to go through with it. She’d have to be initiated. She’d finally have to face the fact that she was fully part of this secret world.
She had been able to ignore it for much of this trip. There had always been something to distract her—Cassandra flirting with Lucas, Sebastian being weird, meeting Bjorn, seeing some amazing ancient sights, even the terrible weather.
All of those things had been petty, though. Minor incidents of a mundane life. It had given her mind something to fix on instead of the vast danger that faced them all and the central role she had to take in order to fix it.
Richard and Cassandra began to plan strategy, speaking in esoteric terms that went right over Della’s head. Lucas didn’t look like he understood either. Sebastian sat there huddled in his raincoat looking as miserable as Della felt.
By the time they docked, three other fishing boats were visible behind them. One was the boat that had blown its horn at them. The other two had appeared within half an hour. Everyone docked, and James showed Lucas on his map where they needed to meet.
A spot on the beach a few miles away, far from any settlement.
Della knew what would come next.
James did not come with them, nor any of the other fishermen who were docking and pretending like their simultaneous arrival had just been coincidence. Della and her companions climbed into the rental car and drove slowly away.
Sebastian sat next to her in the back.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?”
“For getting you into this. If I hadn’t suggested going to MacHugh’s house, none of this would have ever happened.”
Della looked at him with surprise. It was a ridiculous statement. “But things are turning out for the best. We met who we needed to meet.”
Sebastian shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“It’s a synchronicity, darling,” Richard said. “You need to appreciate those.”
“Are all synchronicities good?” Sebastian asked, hanging his head and still looking guilty.
Lucas glanced at him through the rearview mirror.
Richard didn’t have an answer to that.
The quick northern dusk was well finished by the time they made it to the spot James had indicated, and Lucas pulled the car off a quiet road and into a field by the shine of his headlights. When he switched those off, they were in darkness.
They got out of the car into a grassy field. A cold drizzle stung their faces with icy droplets. Della could hear the distant sound of surf and smell the sea.
The others did not take long. Two cars and a pickup truck came in file, as if in military formation, and parked behind them. Men and women in rain gear piled out, not speaking. James strode up to them. As he did so, the last person from the last car closed his door, cutting off the last of the light. James remained visible as only a darker shadow against the prevailing gloom.
“Are you ready?” James asked her.
“No.”
“Do you know what you’re getting into?”
“No.”
“Will you trust yourself to fate and your own abilities?”
Della paused and then, against her better judgment, said, “Yes.”
She thought she saw him nod but wasn’t sure. “Those are the correct answers. Let’s go.”
Without another word, he moved off across the field, his fellow Orcadians falling in with him. Della stood by the road for a moment, unsure of herself, then hurried to catch up. Her friends did as well.
Everyone kept silent as they drew closer to the sea. Della wanted to ask James a thousand questions but felt too afraid to speak. She knew she wouldn’t have liked the answers.
The field sloped down to a narrow beach. The wind was colder here, sending the rain into her face like icy needles.
As they passed through the tall grass that clung to the boundary between the field and beach, Della’s eyes widened. The beach was softly glowing as if under moonlight, and yet the sky was overcast. The sea, too, had a pale, bone-white glow. Her skin prickled as she felt magic flow through her.
“Are we on a ley line?” she whispered. She didn’t dare speak in a normal voice. It would have been like shouting in a cathedral.
“No,” James said.
“I didn’t think so. It feels… different.”
“The way old MacHugh’s spell has been going, we don’t need to be on a ley line anymore. But we don’t have much time. If the lines get much stronger, they’ll right themselves, and God help us all.”
“When will that happen?”
“Nobody knows. Soon, at any rate.”
“Tomorrow? Next week?”
“Next week is too far out. Perhaps tomorrow. Perhaps tonight. I noticed you staring at that selkie.”
Della didn’t reply. She couldn’t deny what she saw, and yet knew she’d feel like a fool saying she had seen the northern equivalent of a mermaid.
They walked onto the beach, their footsteps leaving eerie dark footprints in the shining sand. James’s companions spread out, some moving off to either side to act as lookouts. Della thought she spotted a few carrying guns. James, her companions, and some others walked to the edge of the surf, where the sand shone a bit brighter and was packed hard and damp. Without a word, they formed a silent circle around her.
Della moved into the center, heart beating fast. She looked around at those facing inward toward her. To her relief, she spotted Lucas and Richard and Cassandra. After a moment’s hesitation, Sebastian joined the circle.
Taking a deep breath, she lay down on the sand. Some of the Orcadians moved into the center of the circle, carrying stones that they set on her arms and legs and chest.
Panic rose up in her as they moved back. She stared up at the black sky, feeling the crackling power of magic flowing through her. If she did this, she would never be able to go back.
If she didn’t do it, she and all those she held dear might not live to see the end of the week.
“Are you willing?” James called out.
Della licked her lips and tried to reply. Her throat was so dry her voice came out as a harsh croak. For a moment it sounded like a crow squawking. She cleared her throat and spoke in as strong of a voice as she could muster.
“Yes.”
The Orcadians in the circle began to chant in Old Norse, and Della entered a new phase of her life, one from which she could never return.