Untamed

him, this most beautiful of maidens welcomed him with smooth arms and inviting body. But the instant he penetrated her, that soft, inviting body changed back into what it had once been—earth and the spirit of woman. Her arms and legs became the clay that held him, her spirit the quicksand that trapped him, as the Ghigua Women's chanting called on the Earth Mother to seal the cave, trapping Kalona in A-ya's eternal embrace. And there he still is today, firmly held to the bosom of Earth."
    I blinked, like I was surfacing after a long underwater dive, and my eyes found the poem lying on the bed beside the lavender pot. "But what about the poem?"
    "Well, Kalona's entombment wasn't the end of the story. At the moment his tomb was sealed, each of his children, the terrible Raven Mockers, began to sing a song in a human's voice that promised Kalona would one day return, and described the horrible vengeance he would take against human beings, especially women. Today the details of the Raven Mockers' song are pretty much lost. Even my grandmother knew only snippets of what it said, and only that from words whispered by her grandmother. Few people wanted to remember the song. They thought it bad luck to dwell on such horrors, though enough of it has survived by being passed from mother to daughter that I can tell you it spoke of the Tsi Sgili and the bleeding earth, and how their father's terrible beauty would rise again." Grandma hesitated as Aphrodite and I stared in horror at the poem. Finally she said, "I'm afraid the poem from your vision is the song the ravens sang. And I think it's a warning that Kalona is about to return."

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

    "It is a warning," Aphrodite said solemnly. "All of my visions are warnings of a tragedy that could happen. This one really wasn't any different."
    "I think you're right," I said to Aphrodite and Grandma.
    "And aren't Aphrodite's visions warnings that, if heeded, prevent the terrible outcomes from occurring?" Grandma said.
    Aphrodite looked doubtful, so I answered for her, making my voice sound much surer than I felt. "Yes, they are. Her vision saved you, Grandma."
    "And several other people who would have died on the bridge that day, too," Grandma said.
    "All we had to do then was figure out how to prevent the accident from happening the way she saw it, so that's all we have to do with this warning, too," I said.
    "I agree, Zoey. Aphrodite is a vessel of Nyx, and the Goddess is clearly warning you."
    "She also clearly wants you to help us," Aphrodite said. "It was you who I saw reading the poem." She hesitated, looked at me, and I nodded, understanding what else she wanted to say to Grandma. "When I copied the poem, it came out in your handwriting."
    I heard Grandma's small gasp of surprise. "You're quite sure of that?"
    "Yeah," I said. "I even got one of your letters and double-checked. It's definitely your handwriting."
    "Then I must agree that Nyx wants me to play a part in this," Grandma said.
    "That's not surprising," I said. "You're the only Ghigua Woman we know."
    "Oh, sweetheart! I'm not a Ghigua Woman. That's something an entire tribe votes on, and besides, there hasn't been an official Ghigua Woman for generations."
    "Well, you've got my vote," Aphrodite said.
    "And mine," I said. "And I'll bet Damien's and the Twins', too. Plus, we're kinda a tribe all our own."
    Grandma laughed. "Well, I wouldn't think of arguing with the will of the tribe."
    "You should come here," Aphrodite said suddenly.
    I looked at her in surprise, and she nodded her head slowly, deadly serious. I listened to my gut instinct and knew with a sickening thud of my heart that Aphrodite was right.
    "Oh, Aphrodite, thank you, but no. I really don't like to leave my lavender farm. We'll just talk on the phone or instant-message each other and figure this out."
    "Grandma, do you trust me?" I said.
    "Of course I trust you, daughter," came her unhesitating reply.
    "You need to come here," I said simply.
    The phone was silent, and I could almost see Grandma thinking. "I'll pack just a few things," she finally said.
    "Bring some of those feathers," Aphrodite said. "I'm betting we're going to have to do more smudging."
    "I will, child," Grandma said.
    "Come now, Grandma." I hated the sense of urgency I was feeling.
    "Tonight, Zoeybird? I can't wait a few hours until morning?"
    "Tonight." As if to punctuate my request through the phone, Aphrodite and I heard the chilling sound of a raven's deep, creepy,