“This will just pinch a little…”
Rose whispered those last words, though what followed felt more a sharp poke than a pinch. Poke after poke; as curve after curve of blackest pigment emerged from beneath my skin.
And the rune appeared: flawless, small; intricate upon my left ankle.
“Thus the circle is fulfilled” Hildie said, dark eyes gleaming too bright and I dared not look Rose full in the face; for I knew this rune well and could not bear to watch the tears fill my Aunt’s eyes.
“The Rowan sign..” Rose’s hands had fallen into her lap.
“Of course” Hildie smiled.
My mother’s blessing tree…