Slowly, I walked back to the bench and took my seat beside Sister Mary Angela, who was smoothing her hair and reaffixing her wimple. Finally she looked at me. "I've long suspected it."

That was so not what I'd expected her to say. "You suspected that I can control the elements?"

She laughed. "No, child. I've long suspected that the world is filled with unseen powers."

"No offense, but that's weird for a nun to say."

"Really? I don't think it's so weird when you remember I'm married to what is in essence a spirit." She hesitated, then continued, "And I have felt the stirrings of these powers--"

"Elements," I interrupted. "They're the five elements."

"I stand corrected. I have felt the stirrings of these elements often before at our abbey. Legend has it the abbey is built on an ancient place of power. You see, Zoey Redbird, fledging Priestess, what you have shown me tonight is more validation than shock."

"Huh, well, that's good to hear."

"So, you were explaining how the Ghigua Women created a maiden from clay who entrapped the fallen angel, and the Raven Mockers sang a song about his return, and then turned into spirit? Then what happened?"

I grinned at her matter-of-fact tone before my expression got serious again. "Apparently nothing much happened for a bunch of years--like a thousand or so. Then, just a few days ago, I started hearing what I thought were crows cawing obnoxiously at night."

"You don't think they're crows?"

"I know they're not. First of all, cawing is not really what they did--they croaked."

She nodded. "Ravens croak. Crows caw."

I nodded. "So I've recently learned. Second, not only have I been attacked by two of them, but I saw one last night. It was listening in at my window when Grandma was saying where she'd be driving to today while I was asleep. It was while she was driving that she had her weird, and almost fatal, 'accident.'" I made air quotes around accident. "Witnesses said it was caused by a huge black bird flying directly at her car."

"Mother of God! Why were the Raven Mockers after your grandmother?"

"I think they were after her to get to me and to be sure she didn't help us any more than she already has."

"Help you and who else with what?"

"Help me and my fledgling friends. Most of them have single affinities for the elements, and one of my friends sees visions that warn about bad things that are going to happen--usually death and destruction, you know, the standard vision stuff."

"Would that be Aphrodite, the lovely young woman who--thankfully--adopted Maleficent yesterday?"

I grinned. "Yeah, that's Vision Girl. And no, none of us are thrilled about the Maleficent adoption." Sister Mary Angela laughed, and I went on. "Anyway, Aphrodite saw what we think is the Raven Mockers' prophecy in her last vision, and she wrote it down."

Sister Mary Angela's face paled. "And the prophecy foretells the return of Kalona?" "Yes, which appears to be happening now."

"Oh, Mary!" she breathed, crossing herself.

"That's why we need your help," I said.

"How can I help keep the prophecy from coming true? I do know a few things about the Nephilim, but nothing specific to this Cherokee legend."

"No, I think we have most of it figured out, and tonight we're setting into motion some stuff that's seriously going to mess with his ability to fulfill the prophecy. What I need your help with is Grandma. See, the Raven Mockers were right. By messing with her, they messed with me. I won't leave her alone so that they can torment her. The folks at St. John won't call in a Medicine Man because they don't like the whole Pagan thing. So I need someone who is spiritually powerful, and who believes me."

"So that is where I come in," she said.

"Yes. Will you help me? Will you stay with Grandma and protect her from the Raven Mockers while I try to set the prophecy back another thousand years or so?"

"I would love to." She stood up and started walking resolutely to the crosswalk. She glanced back at me. "What? You thought you'd have to conjure wind again to blow me back up there?"

I laughed and crossed the street with her. This time when she paused before the statue of Mary in the foyer, bowing her head and whispering a quick prayer, I didn't wait impatiently. This time I took a good long look at the statue of the Virgin, noticing for the first time the kindness of her face and the wisdom in her eyes. And as Sister Mary Angela genuflected, I whispered, "Fire, I need you." When I felt the heat begin to build around me, I cupped it into my hand and then flicked my fingers at one of the votive candles that sat, unlit, at the statue's feet. Instantly it, along with half a dozen others, burst into happy flame. "Thank you, fire. You can go play now," I said.