Porcupine Ridge Numerous sections are inscribed with "ETERNAL",

Listening.

There was no better way to describe it, though Anathema felt it wasn't quite the right word. The bones reacted in different ways to one another with each new arrangement, but their position meant little else for their meaning. That part was — something else. A mix of that ancient ancestral knowledge in her veins and something like intuition. It was their energies she felt and interpreted; their moods and their wants.

The bones were impatient, but she sensed their acceptance too. The sea could wait. The Blackwater sisters were here for a reason, though Anathema didn't know yet know what.

You're a dangerous man. She looked up, not questioning but probing him all the same. This was no telling of the bones; any fool could guess as much. Dangerous men were commonplace, Anathema had learned, but there were some dangers she could live with. What she feared more than anything was the moments which would teach her that difference.