it has something to do with you."
"Am I in danger again?"
I couldn't help smiling. She'd sounded worried and upset when she thought something might be wrong with me, but when it was just herself that might be in danger, then she sounded all tough and ready to take on the world. I really heart my grandma!
"No, I don't think so," I said.
"I don't either," Aphrodite added.
"Aphrodite says you're not in danger. At least not at this instant."
"Well, that's good," Grandma said, sounding very matter-of-fact.
"That's definitely good. But, Grandma, the thing is we really don't understand what Aphrodite's vision was about this time. There's usually a big warning that's clear. This time all she saw was you holding a piece of paper with a poem on it, and she felt like she had to copy the poem." I didn't mention the part about her copying it in Grandma's own handwriting. That felt like adding super weird to already majorly weird. "So she did, but it doesn't make sense or mean anything to either one of us."
"Well, perhaps you should read the poem to me. Maybe I'll recognize it."
"Yeah, that's what we thought, too. Okay, here goes." Sightlessly Aphrodite held up the sheet of paper with the poem on it. I took it from her and started to read:
Ancient one sleeping, waiting to arise When earth's power bleeds sacred red The mark strikes true; Queen Tsi Sgili will devise
Here Grandma stopped me. "It is pronounced t-si s-gi-li," she said, with special emphasis on the last word. Her voice sounded strained and she spoke almost in a whisper. "Are you okay, Grandma?"
"Go on reading, u-we-tsi-a-ge-ya," she commanded, sounding more like herself. I kept reading, repeating the last line with the right pronunciation:
The mark strikes true; Queen Tsi Sgili will devise He shall be washed from his entombing bed
Through the hand of the dead he is free Terrible beauty, monstrous sight Ruled again they shall be Women shall kneel to his dark might
Kalona's song sounds sweet As we slaughter with cold heat
Grandma gasped and cried, "O Great Spirit protect us!"
"Grandma! What is it?"
"First the Tsi Sgili and then Kalona. This is bad, Zoey. This is very, very bad."
The fear in her voice was totally freaking me out. "What's a Tsi Sgili and a Kalona? Why is it so bad?"
"Does she know the poem?" Aphrodite asked, sitting up and taking the washcloth off her face. I noticed her eyes were starting to look more normal and her face had gotten some of its color back.
"Grandma, do you care if I put you on speaker phone?"
"No, of course not, Zoeybird."
I pressed the speaker button and went over to sit on the bed beside Aphrodite. "Okay, you're on speaker now, Grandma. It's just me and Aphrodite here."
"Aphrodite and me," she automatically corrected me.
I rolled my eyes at Aphrodite. "Sorry, Grandma, Aphrodite and me."
"Mrs. Redbird, do you recognize the poem?" Aphrodite asked.
"Sweetheart, call me Grandma. And, no, I don't recognize it, as in having read it before. But I've heard of it, or at least I've heard of the myth, passed down from generation to generation in my people."
"Why did you freak out about the Tsi Sgili and the Kalona part?" I asked.
"They are Cherokee demons. Dark spirits of the worst type." Grandma hesitated, and I could hear her rustling around with something in the background. "Zoey, I'm going to light the smudge pot before we speak any more of these creatures. I'm using sage and lavender. I'll be fanning the smoke with a dove's feather while we talk. Zoeybird, I suggest you do the same."
I felt an awful jolt of surprise. Smudging had been used for hundreds of years in Cherokee rituals--especially when cleansing, purifying, or protection was needed. Grandma smudged and cleansed herself regularly--I'd grown up believing it was just a way of honoring the Great Spirit and of keeping my own spirit clean. But never in my life had Grandma ever felt the need to smudge at the mention of anyone or anything.
"Zoey, you should do it now," Grandma said sharply.
Chapter Twenty-two
As always, when Grandma told me to do something, I did it. "Okay, yeah. I'm going. I have a smudge stick in my room. I gotta run and get it." I gave Aphrodite a look and she nodded, shooing me toward the door with a hand flutter.
"Which herbs?" Grandma asked.
"White sage and lavender. It's the one I keep in my T-shirt drawer," I said.
"Good, good. That's good. It's personal to you, but its magic