Tallie smiles and nudges me. “Sisters in sign reading. I knew you’d be special. I’m shutting up now. You go ahead.” She runs her finger over an uncut amethyst.
“The precious stones act as a conduit for pretty much anything,” I explain. I pull my opal from under my shirt. “Most of our clanspeople wear one on them at all times to facilitate Reading, although the adults usually leave the Reading to the kids. We’re better at it than they are.”
“And you’re the most talented of all?” Tallie asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Um, yeah, actually,” I say, feeling a little embarrassed. “My father says that my mother and I were prodigies, like any math or musical prodigy, but our gift was in using the Yara. My mother would have been the next clan Sage if she hadn’t died.”
“I’m sorry,” says Tallie softly.
I nod. “It’s been a long time. Anyway, because of my ‘talent,’ I was chosen to be the next clan Sage.”
“Figures,” she says with a wry smile.
“Why?”
“Because my goddesses wouldn’t bring just anyone to teach me the ways of Yara. They’d only bring me the best.”
I laugh, and continue taking her through the stones, herbs, ground-up minerals, and bones, skin, and fur, including the rabbit feet, and explain their different purposes.
“And Whit’s the one who came up with all this?” she asks when I finish.
“He says he ‘culled the world’s wisdom’ for it. This is Whit’s firepowder,” I say, pointing to the rapidly dwindling supply in my bag. “It’s a mix of ground mica, gypsum, and a couple of other minerals local to Alaska. Besides skipping stones, fire is the earliest thing children Read because it’s one of the easiest.”
I hand the pouch to Tallie and then shuffle over next to where she’s plopped down in front of the fire, being careful not to flex my ankle. “You do it first,” Tallie says, looking as excited as a kid at a magic show.
“Like I said, nothing is working for me right now. But this is how I would do it.” I take a pinch and throw it into the flames, where it pops and sparkles silver for a second. “You need to relax. Slow your heartbeat. Slow your breathing. And then focus on the person you want to see. You can even say their name if it helps. And then you open yourself up and let the Yara make that connection for you.”
“Where am I supposed to be looking?” Tallie asks. She’s arranged herself in a lotus position and has rested her wrists on her knees, palms facing up like Whit does when leading the elders in their daily yoga session. This makes me smile.
“Look just above the fire and a tiny bit to one side. And then try to see patterns in the top of the flames and the shimmering of the heat above them.”
“Does the person have to be alive?” she asks, not daring to tear her eyes away from the fire.
“Yes—you use fire-Reading for seeing things in the present.”
“Says who?” she asks petulantly.
“Whit,” I respond.
She pauses. “Okay,” she says, “Yara, show me that lying cheat Nick Chowder, may his pecker shrivel to the size of a cheese puff and rot in hell.” She stares hard at the fire, squinting at it like she’s daring it to comply. I can’t help but laugh, but try to hide it so as not to distract her.
“What?” she says, finally turning from the fire with an irked expression. “Why are you laughing at me?”
“I wouldn’t try to start with someone whose guts you hate,” I say. “Your emotions are supposed to be calm. Like meditation.”
“Then you do it,” she challenges.
“I told you, I’m not—”
“No, just pretend like you’re doing it, so I can copy you.”
I straighten my back and exhale deeply, closing my eyes. “Dad,” I whisper, and then let my eyelids slowly open as I stare above the fire. I watch the flames lick the air. Watch the negative space above them, pointing downward in flickering Vs, and wait, without hoping, for the tingle of the Yara connection. After a while, I break my gaze and look at her.
“Did it work?” she asks. I shake my head.
She sighs, and then gets up and grabs me a couch pillow to put under my foot. Digging through a cupboard, she takes out a plastic-lined box and scoops something out. “Clay from the riverbed,” she says, and comes back to sprawl beside me in front of the fire. “I think better when my hands are working.” She rolls it around between her palms.
“So when you were telling me your life story there, you ended up with your theory that you’ve lost your powers because you’ve lost faith in the Yara. But since you’ve been explaining to me how it all functions, I’ve noticed just how much you do seem to believe in it. Your face kind of lights up when you talk about it.