"Each of the Ghigua cut their palms and used their own blood as ink to draw on her body symbols of power representing the Sacred Seven: north, south, east, west, above, below, and spirit. Then they joined hands around the beautiful clay figure and, using their combined power, breathed life into her."

"You've got to be kidding, Grandma! The women made what was basically a doll come alive?" I said.

"That's how the story goes," she said. "Young lady, why is that any more difficult to believe than a girl having the ability to call forth all five of the elements?"

"Huh," I said, feeling my cheeks getting warm at her mild rebuke. "I guess you have a point."

"For sure she has a point. Now be quiet and let her tell the rest of the story," Aphrodite said. "Sorry, Grandma," I muttered.

"You must remember that magic is real, Zoeybird," Grandma said. "It is dangerous to forget that."

"I'll remember," I assured her, thinking how ironic it was that I could doubt the power of magic.

"So, to continue," Grandma said, drawing my attention back to the story. "The Ghigua women breathed life and purpose into the woman they called A-ya."

"Hey, I know that word. It means 'me,' " I said.

"Very good, u-we-tsi-a-ge-ya. They named her A-ya because she had a piece of every one of them within her--she was, to each Ghigua woman, me."

"That's pretty cool, actually," Aphrodite said.

"The Ghigua told no one about A-ya--not their husbands or daughters, sons, or fathers. With the next dawn, they led her out of the cave to a place near the stream where Kalona came every morning to bathe, all the while whispering to her what she must do.

"So it was there, sitting in a little patch of morning sunlight, combing her hair and singing a maiden's song, that Kalona saw her, and--as the women knew he would--he became instantly obsessed with possessing her. A-ya did what she had been created to do. She fled from Kalona with her magical speed. Kalona followed her. In his fierce need for her, he barely hesitated at the mouth of the cave into which she disappeared, and he did not see the Ghigua women who followed behind him, nor did he hear their soft magical chanting.

"Kalona caught A-ya deep within the bowels of the earth. Instead of screaming and struggling against 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 pe, 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.