[Meredith].
The women moved then, stepping closer and forming a true circle now.
Each of them raised a hand, palm out, moonlight pooling against their skin. The air vibrated softly, like the hum before a storm.
Then, my grandmother lifted her walking stick and struck it once against the earth.
The sound rang in a final stance.
"Stand barefoot on the ground," she instructed.
I obeyed, slipping out of my slippers. The earth was cool beneath my feet, grounding in a way I hadn't expected. It felt as though the land itself recognized me.
"Close your eyes."
I did.
Immediately, darkness bloomed behind my lids and then something else—a presence.
"Meredith." Valmora's voice unfurled inside me, deeper and clearer than ever before. Then, she asked, "Do you feel it?"
"Yes," I whispered aloud, my voice shaking. "I feel everything."
Fear. Anticipation. Grief so sharp it made my chest ache. Relief so overwhelming it nearly brought me to my knees.
