Northrop National Park Solstice Ritual

[Cam MacKinlay]

It was a cold night, but not as bitter as it could have been, given it was winter in New England. There was only a gentle breeze and not much snow on the ground. Sensible people were home with their families at ten at night. Some would already be asleep. It was a Thursday, after all, so work tomorrow for many and staying up late wouldn't be on the schedule until the five o'clock bell on Friday - or however people with regular employment marked the time until it was theirs again.

The tent was pitched behind him. Inside were all the items he would need for a stay in the park for one night, maybe two, depending on how well or how badly the next three or so hours progressed. At best, he would likely be exhausted and want - no, need - to sleep. At worst -

Cam had dug a pit for the fire with a circumference of about three feet, surrounded by rocks and fueled with fallen branches, twigs, dead grass and crumpled pages of yesterday's paper. He had gathered more of the same and stacked it nearby so he could feed the fire as needed without having to leave the site. Kneeling in the damp soil, he broke another branch in half and added it to the fire, completing a loose structure that would be the core of the blaze. He was dressed warmly enough, not that it would matter later: jeans, hiking boots, flannel shirt, cream-coloured, cable-knit sweater, his black leather jacket, scarf loose around his neck. He had gloves nearby, in case they were needed. Crazy camper, he would seem to anyone who passed by. Though out here, at this time of night, in the cold, what were the chances he would have company?

He dragged his eyes from the flames to the night sky, currently clear and bright with stars. His breath puffed before him as he focused on the moon. It wouldn't be full until the twenty-seventh, which would have been a decent enough date to perform the ritual. He could have waited, but the Winter Solstice in the Northern Hemisphere started on Thursday, December 21st, at 10:27 PM, with a history and power all its own, and he was as ready as he was ever going to be.

Angus Cameron Iain MacKinlay had started the ritual earlier, in his head, anyway, by hiking to this spot, which he had discovered a few weeks ago, and setting up camp. He had cleared any snow, forest debris, rocks and walked slowly around the site, chanting simple words of protection under his breath, scattering torn leaves of fresh sage as he travelled. The tent was near the tree line, but not so close as to encourage anything or anyone to use as a hiding spot. There was a space of about ten feet around the tent, with a battery-powered light on a stick thrust into the ground on each side. Fewer shadows. The fire pit was about twenty feet away from the front of the tent

Tonight, he would bond with the claidheamh soluis - the 'glaive of light' - the sword Cameron had inherited from his father upon the man's death. It was his responsibility now, as the eldest male in the family line. The only male. He could curse the Fae who set up this bloody system, thinking they should know better than to leave such a thing to Fate like that, to a simple genetic randomization. It left out the female heirs so if there were no males in that generation, well... that was it for that particular Clan line.

He turned his attention back to the fire and added another piece of wood to the little log cabin form that burned cheerily before him. It was the shortest day of the year. The longest, darkest night of the year.

Aboot bloody time I got this doone.

Beside him was a gym bag, containing all he would need for the ritual. Sitting back from the fire, but remaining in a crouch, he unzipped the bag and removed each item with the reverence it deserved.

[Juniper Gray]

The benefit of having no solid work schedule was that Juniper could disappear into the woods whenever she wanted after school was out. Before coming to Easthaven, she wouldn't have considered simply being in the wild as therapy--in fact, it had sounded crazy boring--but after seeing the way constant trips out to Northrops seemed to calm her mind and body, she wouldn't have it any other way.

Tonight, she'd booked a plot at a remote campsite, one high up in the foothills where one could be alone for miles. It had been on a whim earlier that evening, so she'd set out late in the evening, getting a few looks at the trailhead when she head out near dark. Not that it mattered to the tiger--there weren't a lot of things that could kill her.

Juniper didn't know that tonight was special. It was a week before the full moon, but other than that, it was just like any other night. She carried her kit on her back into the dark forest, bundled lightly against the cold in an oversized flannel, t-shirt, and jeans. The stars twinkled through the branches overhead, and she drew in a deep breath of the cold night air as she meandered down the path. Her site was out another few miles, past a ranger station, but she was in no hurry.

That was why the light through the trees gave her a pause. It was possible she was closer to the station than she thought, but it didn't seem right. The smell of burning wood on the breeze didn't help either and the animals were quiet.

She was the curious sort. Curious enough to cut off the trail and creep through the trees to take a look at the distant light. It danced like firelight and when she got close, that was confirmed. She saw a man, his breath clouding around his head as he moved through the clearing. Something about him was immediately familiar, even if the context was completely new and Juniper drew up short with surprise and some bafflement. The sheer coincidence!

On any other occasion she might've snuck away and went on her way, but her mild pleasure at finding a familiar face out in the woods tonight stopped her. Juniper hoisted her backpack a little higher up on her back. Deliberately snapping a stick with her next footfall, she telegraphed her approach so as not to surprise the man. Brushing a low branch aside before stepping into the clearing, she called out to him. “Cam? Issat you?”

[Cam MacKinlay]

He had just finished removing the smooth stones from his gym bag when he heard the unmistakeable sound of a fallen branch being stepped on. He had picked his firewood from the forest floor, some of it when he cleared his campsite, but he had not taken all of the branches he had found.

Not anticipating trouble, he stayed in his crouch and shifted sufficiently to turn toward the figure stepping into his cleared area. His eyebrows lifted in surprise when he recognized them.

“Juniper?” He stood then and smiled, though his expression probably showed his puzzlement. “Wot er ye doing oot here? Are ye owl by yerself?” Cam did not think of Easthaven as being a particularly dangerous place, but one could never be too careful.

[Juniper Gray]

Juniper shared in Cam's puzzlement, but her pleasure at finding a familiar face was greater. And then there was the accent she could barely make heads or tails of. It was context that saved her, although she was sure she would warm up to it the more they spoke. Accents were funny like that.

“Yeah! M'heading out to camp for the weekend,” the question about by herself made her grin, and she just shrugged. “I do it a lot, it's no big. What about you?” Now was when she took a good look around the campsite and started to notice its careful set up. That was... interesting. She glanced back at Cam, one eyebrow unconsciously lifting in curiousity.

[Cam MacKinlay]

Cam was aware his accent could be confusing to those not used to such pronunciations, but continued to forget just how confusing it could be. He decided to make an effort so that the young woman would not misunderstand him.

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. “Ye do? In the winter?” He did not ask if she was mad, because really, pot meet kettle.

[Juniper Gray]

“Aye dew,” she confirmed, grinning as she unapologetically tried to imitate his accent. It wasn’t very good but the tiger was having fun with it. “But yeah. I’ve got a spot further on the trail, past the ranger station. S’nice out in the winter, y’know? Not as busy.”

[Cam MacKinlay]

He pressed his lips together, trying to squash a grin at her attempt at the accent. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't good.

“Aye,” Cam said with a nod. “Verra quiet this time of year.” Did he explain what he was doing or did he let her go on her way? The reasonable side of him said he should let her go. The curious side of him, who had sensed something different about her, wondered if he should ask her to stay. Would she freak out if he told her? It was close to the official start of the Solstice and he was running out of time.

“Juniper,” he began quietly, “Do ye know what a ritual circle is?”

[Juniper Gray]

He was trying to hide it but Juniper caught the beginnings of a grin. That was enough encouragement got her. He went on and she glanced around again, tilting her head when she saw the duffel bag.

She suspected nothing, imagining Cam to be a perfectly normal dude so ritual wasn’t her first thought. It all came together with unpleasant abruptness with his next question. The tiger tucked her chin, the humor draining from her face, but there was no accusation in the look. It could be better described at a poor attempt at a poker face that quickly evolved into concern for her newfound friend.

“Uh…” she dithered, and then shrugged, trying to be cool while she measured the interaction with more attention. That Cam was a wizard was not her first thought—perhaps he was someone who found a book and was about to stumble into a world that was way too big for him. But he could be a wizard and she totally missed it. They tended to fly under the radar. “Yeah, I- Yeah. I know. Do… you?” She lifted her eyebrows, curious but wary.

[Cam MacKinlay]

Her look of concern was enough to let him know that she did, indeed, recognize a ritual circle. Her words confirmed it. Rituals were not something attempted at random, nor were they usually performed by a novice without assistance or someone with lots of experience on hand to temper any misteps. At least, that was Cam's experience. How they practiced in other countries and other cultures was mostly unknown to him. His research and experienced was limited to what he had learned from his uncle, who was an elemental mage with water as his focus. The man had not mentored his nephew, though, even when Cam had asked.

This left the young man to glean what he could from watching his uncle, lots of research and the input of his sister, who dabbled in protection magic or whatever it was called.

Cam had pursued his studies on his own in his early twenties, but had let that aspect of his life mostly lie fallow until he turned thirty. Why that year, he was not sure, but he had a more serious five or so years under his belt.

That did not make things easier, though he was certainly more aware of what could go wrong.

“Aye,” he acknowledged softly, remaining by the fire. “I do. That's why I'm oot here tonight.”

[Juniper Gray]

Cinder Detect Magic, partial failure

The mood of the moment changed, the chill of the night moving into Juniper's gut. She shifted her shoulders, a little wave of goosebumps shivering over her. Drawing in a breath, she stilled, trying to get a bead on everything around her. She didn't have Max's sensitivity to magic, but she could feel it in a similar way to how cats could sense air currents. Right now, the night was too flush with sensation for her to make anything peculiar out, but her reaction wasn't borne of fear. To her, Cam was still Cam, circle or not. She just wanted to know what she was getting into.

Eyebrows furrowing, she glanced around their little circle of firelight once more. Then she drew in a breath and exhaled, the mist clouding around her head. “Alright...” she said drawing the word out. “So, you're a wizard, that's... cool.” she murmured, nodding repeatedly as she thought aloud. She glanced back at Cam, pursing her lips up. “I guess I never pegged you for it. You seem like- actually pretty normal, I guess.”

[Cam MacKinlay]

The young woman continued to be wary, in her stance and in her words. He did not blame her. She called him a wizard and the term sent him to Hogwarts for a moment, the fictional school in Scotland.

Cam smiled and hoped it was a reassuring look. “Aye, I think I am pretty normal, though I suppose that depends on yer definition o' 'normal'. I take it ye've encountered some... wizards before, then?” Given her initial reaction, he almost hated to ask.

[Juniper Gray]

“Ye, ye, here and there,” she answered vaguely. In fact, Juniper lived with one and another made her food on the regular but that was almost completely irrelevant right then. This was about Cam and getting a bead on the situation. What kind of wizard was he? Was he like Emily and Billy? Or was he like the cold stranger who scribed runes on her skull?

As the tiger came out of her initial shock, she smiled faintly. Cam’s look was reassuring, and if she was being honest, Juniper didn’t feel threatened. Just taken aback and cautious. “My definition of normal’s pretty broad, I guess?” the girl shrugged her narrow shoulders, before slipping her pack to one shoulder. She wasn’t going anywhere now, invested in figuring this out. “Like, what’re you planning on magicking up?”

[Cam MacKinlay]

He pressed his lips together in thought as she elaborated, though she did not share a great deal of information. Cam decided to tell her why he was camping in a national park four days before Christmas.

Or, at least, the gist of it.

“I need to perform a ritual that will bond me with a sword,” he began.“Essentially, I'm something called a seneschal, an 'hereditary steward' of a sword given t' my family a verra long time ago. It is known as a claidheamh soluis or 'glaive of light'.” He shook his head as the fire popped behind him. “I canna use it properly until I perform a spell to bond with it.” He shrugged and glanced at his wristwatch. “That's the short form.”

[Juniper Gray]

Juniper had been in the supernatural world for a very long time, but this was the first time she'd ever heard about anything like that. It was a bit like the Inquisitor: it sounded regal. A seneschal with a glaive of light.

For all her misgivings, it seemed like the supernatural world in Europe had a kind of dignity to it. Quite unlike the way things were in the States, which felt far more rough and tumble to her.

“Woah,” she breathed, her dark eyes widening. Cam glanced at his watch and Juniper huffed, grinning crookedly. “I mean... Don't lemme keep you or anything. That sounds pretty important.”

[Cam MacKinlay]

He looked up from his watch when she said 'woah', laughed a little and spoke quietly.

“Dinna fash, lass... um, worrry. Dinna worrry. The Winter Solstice begins at 10:27 tonight, so I have aboot fifteen minutes before I need t' get serious.”

Cam did not know if she would want to stay or not. It was a personal, private ritual, but Juniper had demonstrated trust and fearlessness at the haunted farmhouse. He could send her away to a safe camping experience or he could give her a choice.

“If ye would like to stay, witness the ritual... if yer interrrested, ye can,” he said, still standing in the same spot. “I canna guarantee it will be verra exciting, though, an' ye have camping plans.”

Then he waited for her to make a decision or ask any questions.

[Juniper Gray]

That it was the winter solstice was news, and Juniper squinted up at the sky as if the phases of the moon should've told her that. In reality, she didn't know much about the winter or summer solstices. She wondered if the time of year really helped with ritual magic. It had to, unless this was a purely spiritual thing for Cam. It was important to some witches, right?

Juniper didn't know about that, and she didn't put much stock in all of that anyway. Even less so these days, now that Max's ma had given her a little icon of the Theotokos and instructed her to display it in her room.

Still, Cam barely had to ask before Juniper was slipping her backpack off completely. Her curiousity overrode any caution, Juniper living up to the old adage about cats and curiousity. “Actually, nah,” she said, slow but clearly game. “I think I'd like to see it and well- Maybe I can help, in case you need back up.”

Rituals could go wrong in all sorts of ways, but Juniper was familiar with the worst of it.

[Cam MacKinlay]

Juniper did not take very long to consider her choices and he was only mildly surprised that she decided to stay.

As for being his back up -

“Rituals can sometimes go wrong, aye,” he said, finally moving. He turned and headed toward his tent. “Come along, now, an' bring yer pack. We'll get ye settled in and safe.” She should be safe, anyway. He would do his best to ensure it.

Trying to recall what the drinking age was in Massachusetts, Cam added over his shoulder, “There is coffee in a thermos an' whiskey in a flask an' quite a few snacks.” He stopped at the entrance to his tent and raised one eyebrow. “Dinna eat them all, please. I'll need something t' eat when I'm doone.”

[Juniper Gray]

Offering the tiger food was a fast track to her heart. Juniper grinned sunnily, even more delighted that he was offering up his whiskey. Was that a Scottish thing? Did they have a lower drinking age wherever Cam was from?

As June grabbed her bag and followed him to the tent, she straightened up, and went for the answer that might make her seem more grown up and responsible. “We can save the whiskey for when you pull it off,” she said, thinking she sounded very mature as she scanned the snacks on offer. In mild contradiction to that, she selected a pack of Poptarts to munch on, tearing open the foil and breaking off the corner of the pastry.

[Cam MacKinlay]

The legal drinking age in Scotland was eighteen, though if you were sixteen or seventeen, you could consume alcholic beverages if you were in a restaurant or pub, as long as you were accompanied by an adult.

This only covered beer, wine or cider, with a meal, and certainly did not include hard liquor like whiskey. All he said on the matter was, “Aye, good idea.”

He secured one side of the centre-split tent flap open, smirking a bit as he noticed Juniper was already into the snacks. Teenagers were always hungry, weren't they? He certainly had been at that age.

“Reet, then , I'm going t' continue my set up and we can talk, if ye want. I'll let ye know when we canna talk anymore. Stay inside the tent, ye'll be warmer there.” She should be safer, too.

[Juniper Gray]

Within a few seconds, by the time Cam stopped talking, the first pastry was already gone, a masticated lump in Juniper's cheek. He rearranged the tent flaps, instructing her to stay inside and crumbs sprayed out as she wailed, “Wait, you want me to stay in here?” Looking back at him, she protested with big eyes, even while she was poised to take a bite of the second poptart. “I'm plenty warm, and I've seen rituals before, Cam. You don't have to stuff me in the tent!”

[Cam MacKinlay]

So, now came the bargaining. His eyebrows rose as he gave Juniper a 'Really?' look. It was not enough that he was letting her stay?

“I'm nae stuffing ye in a tent, as ye so eloquently put it. I'm encouraging ye t' stay here, where ye'll be safe.”

[Juniper Gray]

The lifted eyebrows quelled any more forceful arguing, for the moment. Juniper understood that he was allowing her to stay and feeding her to boot. She swallowed her mouthful of poptart and asked more reasonably, “Can I sit outside the tent at least?”

There was space at the entrance where she could perch that also gave Cam space to work.

[Cam MacKinlay]

The tent was about twenty feet away from the fire, which would he about twelve feet from the edge of the circle he would soon start drawing in the dirt. He considered her request, finally saying, “Aye, ye can sit ootside the tent.”

Before she could say anything, Cam quickly raised a hand and crouched in front of her. “Ye must promise me t' be verra careful during the ritual. It could take two to three hours and the sword is Fae, remember. They could choose t' make their presence known during that time, and ye don't mess with the Fae.” He leaned closer to her face, his eyes on hers, for emphasis.“No' everrr. Ye understand, Juney?”

[Juniper Gray]

Although Cam had yet to relent, Juniper crouched and then plopped onto her butt near the mouth of the tent to demonstrate that she wasn’t too close and she wasn’t in the way. Fortunately, Cam agreed to it and she didn’t have to move. Crossing her legs, she perked up with a grin, about to reiterate that she wouldn’t get in his hair.

With all her exposure to wizards and their weirdness, she thought she could even help, but decided to keep it to herself. Not only was Cam talking, but this actually seemed a lot more important to him than the sorts of experiments Billy and Em performed. The Scotsman went on, and despite the warning, Juniper felt a frisson of excitement when he said the Fae might make themselves known.

The tiger had some experience with the fair folk, mostly in the form of a feud. She knew from firsthand experience that they were a handful, but again, Cam seemed deadly serious. He probably wasn’t just referring to stupid pixies.

With respect to her friend, she nodded solemnly, meeting Cam’s eyes. “I understand. I’ll keep out of the way, I’ll be careful.” Her tone was serious, but she was careful with her phrasing. The tiger didn’t think it needed to be a binding promise, after all. Besides, she was sure Cam thought she was human. The cat did her best not to lock eyes and stare, distracting herself with another bite of her pop tart.

That done, Juniper neglected to swallow before asking, “The Inquisitor says you can’t swing a dead cat without hitting a Fae in England. Issat true?”

She made a lot of assumptions all at once, from thinking Cam knew Theo, to thinking he knew the state of Fae in England. But who didn’t know Theo? And wasn't Scotland near England?

[Cam MacKinlay]

She was eager to witness the strange and unusual, which probably was not very strange or unusual for a curious teenager. She also seemed to be listening, which was unusual for someone her age, in his experience, anyway.

He did notice that she would not look him in the eye for very long, but he attributed that to her obvious interest in pop tarts. Cam had sensed there was something different about Juniper back at the haunted farm house, but he couldn't put a finger on what made him think this was true.

Her change in topic had interesting timing, but he filed that away for later. He was removing his scarf and black, leather jacket when he realized she was speaking about -

“The Inquisitor? Englishman in a foul mood?” He placed the scarf and jacket on a free-standing, metal rack just inside the tent.

[Juniper Gray]

“Yeh, Mr. Crowhurst,” she confirmed, laughing and brightening up when Cam revealed that he knew the Inquisitor. Foul mood was true but not always. She followed his progress as he removed his scarf and jacket, hanging them up inside his tent.

If he knew about the Inquisitor, then he knew about the Exchange, which vastly simplified the conversation. Juniper could get to the bottom of this Fae thing sooner rather than later. “English, scowls a lot. But he’s not that mad, really. That’s just his resting face.”

[Cam MacKinlay]

He had only met the man once, but could clearly recall that scowl and how displeased he was with Cam's presence. It was kind of the young woman not to use thevterm 'resting bitch face', which was another way to describe someone who had an unfortunate expression when hecwas not trying. That Juniper knew the man and his role with the Exchange was very interesting.

Cam laughed. “Aye, that sounds like him, owlright. How is it ye ken the Inquisitor?”

[Juniper Gray]

Ah, this was where they ran into a bit of an issue. Juniper couldn't just say that Theo was practically her caseworker. That he'd been on her butt since day one to make sure she didn't lose her mind and rampage through the city. But, she didn't want to just lie to Cam. Not completely.

“I've been shadowing him for a bit. Been thinkin' about joining the Exchange so he's let me tag along here and there,” she said, and then grinned brightly. Although it wasn't the complete truth when she formulated it in her head, the desire to join the Exchange was authentic.

[Cam MacKinlay]

He raised an eyebrow. Now, that was very interesting. He wondered how that arrangement came to be, but was not going to swamp her with questions. Not now, anyway. He had a deadline to meet.

“Weel, good for you,” he said, meaning it. Crowhurst might have a resting bitch face, but he seemed to know which way was up. He would not be the Inquisitor if he didn't.

Cam took a step away from the tent and walked back toward the fire. He said over his shoulder, “I have t' get ready.”

[Juniper Gray]

At first, with his lifted eyebrow, it looked like Cam was going to pry, and Juniper's mind started spinning up a bunch of white lies to feed him. She didn't want to, but there were a lot of things she wasn't keen on dropping on a new friend. Being a huge monster encapsulated in a girl's body was one of them.

Fortunately, he saved her from digging herself a hole after he divested himself of his jacket. Juniper relaxed slightly as he turned away. “Alright, cool,” she said gamely. As she glanced over at the unopened Poptarts, she continued the conversation. “So, like, what'll you do if the Fae show up? Are you planning on talking to them?”

[Cam MacKinlay]

Cam crouched beside his gym bag again and continued to remove the items. Once all of the ones he needed for the next task had been removed, he began by drawing the circle in the dirt using a smooth, pointed stick of wood, fashioned to ensure the line would be crisp, roughly eight feet from the fire. He had measured and marked with divots in the ground so he could make the circle as perfect as possible.

“If any o' the Fae should stop by, an' it loooks like they want t' say something, I'll respond or no', depending on what they say.” It was the best answer he could provide. The Fae had rules and you abided by them. If they appeared, but did not want any input from him, Cam would remain silent.

Unless they asked a direct question, there was no need.

He honestly did not think they would see any of the elusive beings this solstice eve.

Cinder 3 passes, Ritual Circle

[Juniper Gray]

That seemed very sensible to Juniper, especially when she considered the warning Cam gave her. These weren't going to be pixies, that was for sure. She made a sound to show she'd heard him, but otherwise fell silent, understanding that now was the time to let him concentrate.

That didn't last however. When he started drawing the circle, she thought about Billy's technique. He used a stick and a rope, which seemed to give a pretty good circle, but Cam's ritual seemed to be centered around the fire. Hard to plant a stick and a rope in the middle of that.

Rather than insult Cam's expertise by sophomorically asking why he did it one way instead of another, Juniper erred on the side of politely asking, “How long've you been doing magic?”

[Cam MacKinlay]

Cam usually made his ritual circles with a string and a stick, tools he used in landscaping, too. For this particular spell, he wanted the fire, his power source, to be at the centre, so he improvised. Very, very carefully.

Uncertain about the quality of the circle he had just drawn, he decided he would try again.

Juniper had stayed quiet for what was possibly the longest five minutes of her young life. She had apparently been unable to suppress this question any longer. Cam glanced over at her and said, “Aboot three years, in a serious way. Aboot, oh, ten as a dabbler, I suppose ye could say.”

Then he held up his hand, to indicate he needed a moment of silence, then proceeded to draw another circle.

Cinder 5 passes, Ritual Circle - Done!

[Juniper Gray]

Leaning over, Juniper started to sort through the snacks Cam had brought again. Her appetite was never sated, but with great effort, she conservatively picked up one piece and started to slowly gnaw on it.

“What got you into it?” she asked around her mouthful as Cam refined his circle. He still didn't look like a weirdo wizard to Junie--neither did Em or Billy, though, so, she couldn't be sure what she was envisioning. The first thing that came to mind were the weirdos who dressed all in black Anton LaVey-style, and the second were the ladies who dressed in robes and wore crystals. Cam didn't look like either, he just looked like a normal dude, so he somehow seemed more legit.

[Cam MacKinlay]

Cam completed his second attempt at the perfect circle and was very pleased with the result. Juniper had the good sense to wait until he had straightened from his task and lifted his stick from the dirt before asking her next question.

“I hae a few relatives who practice magic of various sorts,” he replied. “One uncle in particular, an elemental mage, let me observe his work an' ask questions, but he would'na mentor me. After he passed, I was on my oon, wi' a mountain o' books an' random advice.”

Cam set the stick down beside his duffle bag and pulled his cable-knit sweater over his head. He folded it once and set it beside the stick. He still wore a flannel shirt, jeans and his hiking boots.

[Juniper Gray]

Juniper listened carefully, holding the jerky between her thumb and forefinger and taking tiny delicate bites. This was the height of discipline for her.

It seemed that Cam's ritual work came from within his family. The tiger found that intriguing. It gave the practice weight, perhaps even family-specific tradition. It was a bit different from the other arcanists she knew once again; they all seemed to be islands unto themselves, practicing alone and under the radar. Maybe Cam lived in a world where magic was commonplace--it made sense, with the way he talked about being the caretaker of a Fae sword.

“So this is just like... Part of your family life, huh?” Juniper mused retorically. She watched Cam with bright, shrewd eyes as he removed his sweater and started on the next part of his ritual. “What kinda magic do you do? Elemental stuff, too?”

[Cam MacKinlay]

Cinder 4 passes, Placing of Rune Stones - Success!
He reached into his duffle bag for a rectangular, glass container, one with a plastic lid that clipped securely to the glass on all four sides. Placing it on the ground, he snapped the clips and lifted the lid, setting it aside. Inside was an assortment of stones, all about the size of Cam's palm. On each stone, a rune had been very meticulously carved. Some of the lines were more worn than others, but that was from generations of handling.

The stones didn't go all the way back to the beginning, but in the Seventeenth Century, one of the MacKinlay stewards had decided that risking any miscalculation with drawing the runes for the bonding ritual was rolling the dice too much on the outcome. The runes for this particular ritual were, therefore, permanently established.

“I suppose ye could say its a family thing, aye,” Cam replied to Juniper's observation. “Each generation hopes fer a son in the main line, which is rubbish, but that's how the Fae set it up.”

All the stones in the container were for the bonding ritual. There were others, back in his rental, on which various stewards along the way had carved runes into, ones that were often needed for other spells. The seven stones he had with him were all he needed for the night.

Cam picked out two of them, one in each hand, stood and placed them around the circle, just inside the line he had drawn in the dirt. This was repeated with the remaining five stones until they were all firmly pressed into the ground just enough so as not to be easily displaced. They were set apart by an equal amount.

On the fifth stone, Cam said, “Aye, elemental stuff, too.” Once the seventh stone was in place, he stepped back to check the arrangement in case any tweaks were required.

[Juniper Gray]

When Cam talked about how his family handled this generational magic, Juniper made a thoughtful sound, eyebrows drawn as she pinched her chin. She didn't know what to think about how he called it rubbish. Would he rather one of his sisters, if he had any, have to take on the mantle and deal with the fey? Juniper didn't have any brothers, but when she thought of Max, it didn't seem like something he'd wish for, even if it was unpleasant.

But maybe it was really unpleasant. But then... Juniper circled around it: why would he want a sister having to take it on? Unless he meant that it was rubbish to hope for a son, but that was just... Kind of mean, wasn't it? What was wrong with baby boys?

Watching Cam lay out his runestones--she thought that was neat. Billy liked to make runestones too, but they weren't nearly as nice looking--she nodded as he confirmed elemental magic. She didn't know any elementalists, but then... She only knew a few wizards.

Which was really more than a lot of people could say.

“Why's it rubbish?” she asked, probing into that. It kept bothering her. She was pretty accustomed to things going patrilineally, in the magical world. The family names, the authority, all of that--through the father. It was just how it was done. Even Mr. Crowhurst was the heir to his family name without being the eldest child and it didn't seem to bother him.

[Cam MacKinlay]

He surveyed the stones and decided no adjustments were required. The next stage involved the components of the ritual. Cam checked his watch. Not needing to start right at the beginning of Solstice, he still wanted to make sure he had enough time to complete the task. It was necessary and long over-due.

Juniper had been quiet, which should have been a sign of something afoot, but he wasn't too concerned. Then she asked a question and in three brief words, conveyed that it had been nagging at her.

He turned his head to look at her then walked to the opening of the tent and crouched down to meet her gaze. He thought about the simplest way to describe the contract with the Fey, but when it came to it, there was nothing simple about the Fey.

“A certain number of families in a clan were each given a sword,” he began quietly. Even though it was unlikely that anyone else was around to hear them, he hadn't expected Juniper to arrive. Caution was always prudent. Other parts of the ritual would be less quiet, but there was no need to rush into noise just yet.

“The role o' Steward passes on t' the eldest son. If the family dinna hae a son, no' even a cousin that is male, the sword canna be used t' fight the Darkness. It will be... reclaimed, we think, by the Fey, an' that family line... willna continue.” He sighed. “We, the other families, are nae sure what the correlation is exactly, but after a generation or two withoot the sword...”

Cam was sure Juniper had the gist of it now, but just to be certain, he added, “The daughters canna wield the sword. After a generation or two, the family... dies oot. As if they're noo longer worthy.” He stopped then and waited for her reaction.

[Juniper Gray]

As Cam drew close, Juniper leaned in, although she probably could’ve heard him whispering from a few hundred yards away. Regardless, she listened very carefully.

Being what she was, Juniper was unfortunately well-acquainted with the short end of the supernatural stick. It was more like the “beat stick”, if she was asked. Being a shifter was nothing but misery. Even if things were alright now, the years of heartache still sat heavily on her narrow shoulders.

That, however, barely compared to an entire family line dying out. It was horrific, really. She wondered how the Fey did that. Did they just murder them? Did they stop producing children? Was it more metaphorical in that the family name died out? In any case, she could see what Cam meant, now. The stakes were high to have a son.

“Shit, that sucks,” she breathed, her eyes wide. “Fey curses are pretty bullshit.”

[Cam MacKinlay]

She paid close attention and he could tell by her expression that she did, indeed, understand. Her words confirmed it.

“Aye,” he replied, nodding solemnly. “It sucks on soo many levels, Juney, an' the bullshit doesn'a seem t' stop.” Cam wasn't bothered by her swearing, though he knew some would still react with the belief that 'young women of breeding did not swear'. That, too, was a load of shite.

“The sword allows us t' fight the evil in the world, but the cost can be quite high. Tis something we must bear, with acceptance an' no' shame.” He smiled a brilliant smile, hoping to dissuade the darker mood that was dabbling around them.

“Now, I need t' continue setting up the ritual. We can still talk, but my responses will likely be delayed.”

[Juniper Gray]

Juniper had so many more questions after that--Was there a way to break the curse? If there were, would Cam take that option? Or was this a thing about honor? Surely Cam would continue to fight evil even without the Fey. But perhaps this was the way that worked for him.

However, Cam made it clear that he had to get about his business and Juniper was aware that she was observing as a guest in his campsite. Returning his brilliant smile with a faint one of her own, she nodded solemnly and let him go. Slowly, she reached out for another bit of jerky, watching and chewing slowly as the arcanist did his work.

That said, she was quiet, but she bore a great deal of restless energy. She wouldn't just fade into the background, rustling the bags more than once, and wiggling in place, trying to get comfortable on the ground.

[Cam MacKinlay]

Cinder 7 passes. - Ritual Component:Taste
- His father's favourite whiskey - Excellent quality component!

She looked like she had more questions and Cam couldn't blame her. The implications of such a contract were many, but she managed to contain herself. He was willing to answer, as best he could, anything she might ask of him. Within reason, of course.

Cam stood and returned to kneel beside his duffle bag. He reach inside for a small bottle of alcohol, the type they used to serve on airplanes. Cam hadn't been on a flight lately, with the latest journey being via a Fey tunnel, so he didn't know if they still sold the little bottles or poured from bigger ones now.

Regardless, this bottle held his father's favourite whisky and thus, his component to represent taste for this ritual.

Glenfiddich 12 Year Old Single Malt Scotch Whisky.

He placed it in the circle and reached for the next item, wondering if Juniper would ask any of her questions now or wait until the ritual was complete.

[Juniper Gray]

Juniper was snacking without thinking, her carnivore's appetite causing her to keep reaching for the jerky. It was not as good as a fresh deer, but it was something to do while she watched. As Cam retrieved the little airline bottle of alcohol from his bag, she tilted her head, interested enough to stop squirming.

Her thoughts shifted along their conversation, from the Fey curse on his family to the darkness he'd spoken about. Cam's family had history with magic and she had more questions than they likely had time for. Her gaze lifted from the ritual to the night sky. “So, you're from Scotland. What're you doin' here in the States?” she wondered, speaking around a wad of jerky in her cheek.

Around them, the woods were humming wit noise to her sensitive ears, the shifter picking up the sounds of animals quietly moving in the brush and the a gentle wind through the trees.

[Cam MacKinlay]

Cinder 3 passes. - Ritual Component: Sight
- Family Photograph - Average quality component.

Next up was sight and for that, he had a photograph of the family, just his Mam, his Da, his three sisters and himself. It had been taken last Autumn by one of his cousins at the wedding of another cousin. There they were, in their best, looking happy. Not one had a weird expression or closed eyes or was passed out at their place setting. It was perfectly their branch of the MacKinlays, minus the grandchildren, who were visiting with friends.

“Just us six...” Cam murmured and placed the 6x4 photo next to the bottle of whisky.

Juniper spoke up then, stating the obvious then asking the next logical question. He wasn't sure how much to reveal as to why he was in America, and decided to share a part of the reason.

“Aye, Scotland,” he said over his shoulder, “an' I hae some business with the Fey.”

[Juniper Gray]

“Right, yeah,” Juniper murmured, nodding as she pieced together what he'd said before with this. She settled back in her seat with a sigh.

He needed to bond with the sword, a Fae sword, and he had business with the fair folk here in America. It was starting to paint a very interesting picture, overall, and Juniper briefly wondered how many families over in Europe, or even around the world, had this kind of magical heritage. Magic swords, commissions from other worlds, missions against the dark...

“Is that business to do with your sword or something else?” She eyed the photograph, picking out a few familiar facial features, even in the flickering firelight. Cam's family, she thought, but only six of them. That was still a big family. Bigger than hers, anyway.

[Cam MacKinlay]

Cinder 3 passes. - Ritual Component: Smell
- Dried Heather - Average quality component.

Cam retrieved a small envelope made from craft paper. He gently pressed the sides of it so the 'mouth' would open, as if it might have something to say. Inside was a sprig of dried heather. He tapped the envelope against his palm and the flower slid onto his skin. Cupping his hand, he held it to his nose and inhaled as if it were a balm to sooth his soul. It was, in a way.

“Both,” he said to Juniper. It was the truth, after all. He needed to do the ritual to bond the sword to him, as the Steward next-in-line, and he was the new Steward because a Fey had killed his father. He would need the sword and all else he could bring to bear on the task. God help them if other families were also targets.

With the same reverence he had placed the two previous items, Cam set the heather next to the family photo.

[Juniper Gray]

Cam had warned her that he might not want to do a lot of talking, but even after this succinct answer, Juniper felt like she wanted to keep filling the air space. She wanted to know more!

He pulled out the dried heather and the scent of it tickled at her nose. She was a good twenty-some feet away, but her nose was good, and she watched him reverently place it down, adding it to the grouping of components.

How many did wizards need again? Five? Six? Em and Billy were always carting around bits and bobs for their spells, but it usually looked like random trash. At least Cam seemed to have some idea of what he was going for.

With Cam's warning about staying near the tent and out of harm's way, and with a ritual in progress, Juniper knew she couldn't just get up and start pacing around, much as she wanted to. So, she turned on the snacks again. She'd been very good about the jerky, leaving at least half of the package, but now she decided she needed to sample the granola. For the next minute and a half or so, Juniper busied herself with rummaging through Cam's snack bar, trying to solve the problem of her appetite.

[Cam MacKinlay]

Cinder 3 passes. - Ritual Component: Touch
- MacKinlay Tartan - Good quality component.

A piece of fabric was next. It was a swatch of wool, roughly a square about two by two inches in size.

Cam knew Juniper was curious about the ritual and all it entailed, so he decided to tell her a bit more about it.

“This,” he said, holding up the fabric and glancing over his shoulder at the tent. Ah, she's eating again... He smirked, then continued. “This is material from my father's kilt. Jus' a small piece cut from a part that's covered when the kilt is worn. So, the component fer 'touch' is the MacKinlay tartan.” Not that it mattered, but he added, “No' the dress tartan, which looks like a table cloth t' me. Jus' the large blue an' green plaid with the thin, red lines running through it.”

He placed it next to the heather.

[Juniper Gray]

Juniper looked up with a clump of granola in her cheek as Cam broke the quiet. She made an 'ooh' noise, interested in both the component and the fact that his father wore a kilt. It was wild to the young girl that grown men--men who were straight anyway--still wore anything but trousers, but she'd never been outside the US and had only recently visited elsewhere beyond the East coast.

“Cool!” she said, rummaging around in the pack of granola. “Is the whiskey your dad's too?”