"No, Grandma, don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault, and if you'd been there I would have lost both of you-and I couldn't stand that!"

"I know, u-we-tsi-a-ge-ya, but the death of a child, even one that has been lost to her parent, is a heavy burden."

"Was it-did she-did Mom suffer?" My voice was barely above a whisper.

"No. She died quickly." Grandma spoke without hesitation, but I thought I saw something pass through her eyes.

"You found her?"

Grandma nodded, tears spilling more and more quickly down her cheeks. "I did. She was in the field just outside the house. She was laying there and she looked so peaceful that at first I believed she was sleeping." Grandma's voice caught on a sob. "She was not sleeping." I held tight to Grandma's hands and spoke the words I knew she needed to hear. "She's happy, Grandma. I saw her. Nyx took the sadness from her. She's waiting for us in the Otherworld, and she has the Goddess's blessing."

"Wa-do, u-we-tsi-a-ge-ya. You give me strength," Grandma whispered to me as she hugged me again.

"Grandma," I said against her cheek. "Please stay with me, at least for a little while."

"I cannot, u-we-tsi-a-ge-ya. " She stepped back, but kept hold of my hand. "You know I will follow our people's tradition and mourn for seven full days, and this is not the right place for me to mourn."

"We're not stayin' here, Grandma," Stevie Rae said, wiping her face with her sleeve. "Zoey and our whole group have moved to the tunnels under the Tulsa Depot. I'm their official High Priestess, and I'd really like it if you'd come stay with us-for seven days or seven months-for as long as you want."

Grandma smiled at Stevie Rae. "That is a generous offer, Elohine, but your depot is not the right place for me to mourn, either." Grandma met my eyes and I knew what she was going to say before she spoke. "I must be on my land, at the farm. I must spend the next week eating and sleeping very little. I must focus on cleansing my home and my land of this horrible deed."

"All by yourself, Grandma?" Stark was there beside me, a warm, strong presence. "Is that safe after what happened?"

"Tsi-ta-ga-a-sh-ya, do not let my looks deceive you." She called Stark rooster, her pet name for him. "I am many things, and not one of them is a helpless old woman."

"I'd never think you were helpless," Stark amended. "But maybe it's not a good idea for you to be alone."

"Yeah, Grandma. Stark has a point," I said.

"U-we-tsi-a-ge-ya, I must cleanse my home, my land, and myself as I mourn. I cannot do that unless I am at peace with the land, and I will not stay inside the house until it is thoroughly cleansed and the seven days have past. I will be camping in my backyard, in the meadow by the stream," Grandma smiled at Stark, Stevie Rae, and the rest of my friends. "I do not believe you would fare so well exposed to the sunlight for that time."

"Well, Grandma, I-" I began, but she stopped me.

"This I must do myself, u-we-tsi-a-ge-ya. I do have something to ask of you, though."

"Anything," I said.

"In seven days will you come to the farm with your friends? Will you cast a circle and perform a cleansing ritual of your own?"

"I will." I nodded, and my gaze took in the friends who surrounded me.

"We will," Stevie Rae said. Her words were echoed by the kids who stood beside and around me.

"Then that is how it shal be," Grandma said firmly. "The Cherokee tradition of mourning and cleansing will be coupled with vampyre ritual. It is good that it is so, as my family has expanded to include so many vampyres and fledglings." Her eyes shifted around my group. "I ask one more thing. That each of you think bright thoughts of me, and of Zoey's mother, for the next seven days. It does not matter that Linda faltered in life. What matters is that she is remembered with love and kind thoughts."

"We will," and "Okay, Grandma," sounded around me.

"I will go now, u-we-tsi-a-ge-ya. Sunrise is not far away, and I would greet the dawn on my land." Keeping my hand in hers, Grandma and I walked to the door. As she passed my friends, each of them touched her and said "Good-bye, Grandma," which had her smiling through her tears.

At the doorway, we had a little bubble of privacy and I hugged her again, saying, "I understand why you have to, but I really wish you wouldn't go."

"I know, but in seven days-"