and Hugo talked? Maybe they were still friends? Maybe that’s how Hugo found Racine/Cadence Merriweather and started blackmailing her, through Cale? That makes sense. Everyone liked Cale. People were trying to help him after he got out of jail. Hugo was probably one of those people and helped Cale rent the trailer, where he also ended up contaminated by death and decay. All because he knew Hugo. But how did he end up dead and being ridden by the necromancer, Hugo’s wife, Carollette? Unless the power sink and the kettle full of people-soap was still there because Carollette needed to use her power or store it when it got to be too much, and she needed the power sink to do that.”
JoJo said, “I’ve got the GPS on Hugo’s car somewhere here. Hang on.” We heard keys tapping.
“Timeline fits,” Occam said. “Commune, to Stella, to Cale, to Hugo, to Carollette, who was betrayed by Hugo sleeping with one of the people at Melody Horse Farm, which leads us back to the commune. A nice, convoluted, but circular trail.”
Her voice vibrating with excitement, Jo said, “Got it. Hugo Ames’ car made the trip to Cale’s trailer four times since Cale got out of jail. We have our connection point.”
“Good work,” FireWind said. For him that was high praise.
“If we can find Carollette before she sees us, we could deliver null pens all around her,” T. Laine said.
“How old is Ethel Myer?” I asked, my fingers having found their way into the soil of my potted plant. I hadn’t realized that I was carrying it around.
“She’s forty-two,” JoJo said. “Hang on for DL pic.”
T. Laine cursed softly and said, “Jo, she looks eighty. We had her! And we didn’t take her.”
I placed the pot on the table beside me, my hands around it, my eyes on it so I didn’t have to look at them. “Ethel is a witch. Maybe even a death witch, because her magics are slowly killing her, that and the cigarettes and the liquor. But death and decay kills faster than what we saw at her place. And death and decay is not witch magic,” I said, “although it could have come from the same source, back far in the past, mutated genetics that resulted in witches, in yinehi, maybe other creatures, maybe recessive genes that pair up when certain people breed too close.” I felt T. Laine’s eyes on me and I took a steadying breath. “Anyway. What I’m trying to say is that death and decay is old earth magic, ancient magic like mine, but turned on its head and perverted, fueled by sacrifice.”
I could feel my bosses’ eyes on me. I had told FireWind, Soul, and Rick a lot about my magics. Rick knew even more from the time Paka had nearly killed Ephraim. It had been kept off my record. So far. I didn’t look up or meet anyone’s eyes. I was staring at my potted cabbage, my fingers touching Soulwood soil. I was growing tiny green leaves on the tips of my fingernails. One unfurled, dark green with red veining.
“When was this determined?” FireWind asked.
“Today,” I said. “That’s what I’m here to report. I recognized the origination of the death and decay on the old Ames farm. The family were normal witches. One of them married . . . I don’t know, maybe a second cousin. Or even a boy from the church. Stranger things have happened. And then, probably due to intermarriage, recessive genes began to pop up. Around seventy-five to a hundred years ago, a yinehi, a nature creature like me, was born, grew up, and was killed and buried on the Ames farm. Yinehi magics appear most strongly when the woman is attacked and has to defend herself. Something about the adrenaline spike of self-defense brings them to full power. The bones I discovered under the ground were mostly tree.”
I had been attacked. My sister Esther had been attacked. We grow leaves. My sister Mud had not been attacked and it was my goal to make sure she never was. She could still use her earth gifts to make things grow, but hopefully she would never—
“Ingram?” FireWind said.
I realized I had fallen silent.
“The second time the recessive genes appeared is more recent, about ten or maybe fifteen years ago, if the power sink I discovered is any indication, probably at puberty. The energies there are just a little different from mine, but recognizable. As if they come from common stock.”