"Waft it around you. Girls, both of you need to concentrate on protection and positive spirits. Think of your Goddess and how much she loves you."

We did as Grandma told us. Both of us were fanning the smoke gently around with our hands as we inhaled slowly.

Maleficent sneezed, growled, and jumped off the bed to disappear into Aphrodite's bathroom. I can't say I was sorry to see her go.

"Now keep the pot close to you while you listen carefully to me," Grandma said. I heard her draw three deep cleansing breaths before she began. "First you should know that the Tsi Sgili are Cherokee witches, only do not be deceived by the title 'witch.' They do not follow the peaceful, beautiful ways of Wicca. Nor are they the wise priestesses you know and respect who serve Nyx. A Tsi Sgili lives as an outcast, separate from the tribe. They are evil, through and through. They delight in killing; they revel in death. They have magical powers granted through the fear and pain of their victims. They feed on death. They can torture and kill with the ane li sgi."

"I don't know what that means, Grandma." "It means they are powerful psychics and can kill with their minds."

Aphrodite looked up at me. Our eyes met and I could tell we were thinking the same thing: Neferet is a powerful psychic.

"Who is this queen the poem talks about?" Aphrodite asked.

"I know of no Tsi Sgili queen. They are solitary beings and have no hierarchy. But I am not an authority on them."

"So is Kalona one of the Tsi Sgili?" I asked.

"No. Kalona is worse. Much worse. The Tsi Sgili are evil and dangerous, but they are human and can be dealt with as any human can." Grandma paused, and I could hear her drawing in three more deep cleansing breaths. When Grandma began to speak again, her voice was lowered, as if she was worried about being overheard. She didn't exactly sound scared. She sounded cautious. Cautious and very, very serious.

"Kalona was the father of the Raven Mockers and he was not human. We call him and his twisted offspring demons, but that's not really accurate. I guess the best way I can describe Kalona is as an angel."

A cold chill went through my body when Grandma said the words Raven Mockers; then I realized what else she had said, and I blinked in surprise. "An angel? Like in the Bible?"

"Aren't they supposed to be good guys?" Aphrodite asked.

"They are supposed to be. Keep in mind that the Christian tradition says that Lucifer himself was the brightest and most beautiful of the angels, but he fell."

"That's right. I'd forgotten about that," Aphrodite said. "So this Kalona was an angel who fell and turned bad guy?"

"In a way. In ancient times, angels walked the earth and mated with humans. Many peoples have stories to describe this time. The Bible called them Nephilim. The Greeks and Romans called them Olympian gods. But whatever they have been called, all of the stories agree on two points: First, that they were beautiful and powerful. Second, that they mated with humans."

"Makes sense," Aphrodite said. "If they were so hot, of course women would want to be with them."

"Well, they were exceptional beings. The Cherokee people tell of one particular angel, beautiful beyond compare. He had wings the color of night, and he could change form into a creature that looked like an enormous raven. At first our people welcomed him as a visiting god. We sang songs to him and danced for him. Our crops thrived. Our women were fertile.

"But gradually everything changed. I don't really know why. The stories are too old. Too many of them have been lost to time. My guess is that it is difficult to have a god live among you, no matter how beautiful he is.

"The song I remember my grandmother singing tells that Kalona changed when he began to lie with the maidens of the tribe. The story goes that after the first time he bedded a maiden, he became obsessed. He had to have women--he craved them constantly, and he also hated them for causing the lust and need he felt for them."

Aphrodite snorted. "I bet it was him feeling the lust, not them. No one wants a guy who's a man ho, no matter how hot he is."

"You're right, Aphrodite. My grandmother's song said that the maidens turned their faces from him, and that's when he became a monster. He used his pine power to rule our men while he defiled our women. And all the while his hatred for women grew with an intensity that was all the more frightening because of his obsession with them. I heard an old Wise Woman speak once, and she said that to Kalona the Cherokee women were water and air and food--his very life, though he hated that he needed them so desperately." She paused again, and I could easily envision the look of disgust on her face that was mirrored in her voice as she continued her story.