Grace of a Wolf (by Lenaleia) novel Chapter 246

Chapter 246: Grace: Coin (II)

We manage to leave the cemetery without further incident, though Andrew had to haul me out of the ground because pulling your entire body up a rope is a lot harder than it might seem.

I really need to exercise more. Running, I can do. Anything involving strength, not so much.

I frown at my phone, completely devoid of notifications or help, as usual. Thanks for all your freaking help, Caeriel.

The coin sits heavy in my palm and I turn it over for what already feels like the hundredth time, tracing the worn edge with my fingertip. There’s something about it, a latent energy inside. I can’t sense it the way I sense arcana, but I can feel it in the form of static electricity and an unnatural coolness against my skin.

"Never see a half-dollar before?" Andrew asks curiously.

It’s not a half-dollar, but that’s all he can see when I show it to him. He doesn’t see how it’s actually a gold coin, hammered some time long ago. The etchings are too worn to make out.

"No, I have. I actually used to have a small jar of them." A long time ago, when Mom was alive.

"Oh, so you’re a collector."

It wasn’t like I was actively trying to; Mom always gave them to me as little gifts, saying they’d be worth money someday.

No idea where the jar is now, though.

Shaking off the memories, I squint at the coin again, a little uneasy. Before, at the Wash-N-Were, I’d had an update immediately when I found whatever clue I was supposed to find. This time, there’s nothing but radio silence.

And it smells. Even after I practically drowned the coin in hand sanitizer from the glove compartment, it carries the same scent from the grave.

Andrew turns onto an unmarked gravel road, only minutes from the cemetery. There were multiple locations on the list Caeriel sent me, but for a second it felt like the coin got hot when my eyes landed on this one.

It didn’t happen again, not even when I told Andrew to head there. But I can’t shake the niggling feeling it’s somehow connected to this coin, and following this yellow brick road is what I need to do. I think.

Too bad I’m not really Sherlock; his brain would be super helpful right now.

After cresting a small hill, the skeleton of an old building rises, looking like some sort of ancient ruin. It’s less creepy than the cemetery because there are no dead bodies here—I think.

What might have once been a two-story structure is now just a burned-out husk. It’s been here for decades, but I’ve never cared to explore it before.

"There’ve been a lot of fires in our territory," I mutter.

"I mean, they probably didn’t have fire departments a hundred years ago." Andrew squints out the window. "Shocked it’s still standing, honestly. I haven’t been here since I was ten or eleven, I think."

"Whose house was it?"

"No idea. We just call it the burned-down plantation."

"I know that." It’s what Caeriel called it, too, even though this definitely was never a plantation. Maybe a farm house once upon a time, but not a plantation. "But you guys don’t have any stories about the old owners or anything?"

"Not really, but I think they used to be human. There were a lot of them back then."

"Hmm. Wait here; I’ll be right back."

"Got it."

Sliding out of the car again, I make my way across the overgrown plot of land, wondering when a gravel driveway was even put in. If this house really burned down a hundred years ago, who put in a driveway?

Thinking about it now, doesn’t it all seem strange? And why is there even a gravel road leading up to this place?

But more importantly, why does it smell like the grave?

Whatever history happened here is long gone, eaten by time and fire. It doesn’t take much to search the place, and there’s nothing to find except dandelions.

"Did I seriously think I was going to find something here?" I mutter, kicking at dead grass.

I pull out the coin again, turning it between my fingers. I swear the damn thing had felt warm earlier, but it’s cold and inert now, despite the faint buzzing against my skin.

Something green and sinuous slithers across my foot.

"Fuck!" I stumble backward, my heart hammering as a small garter snake disappears into the overgrown grass. It wasn’t even that big, but my heart hammers like I’ve just seen a rattlesnake.

Okay, calm down. I’ve seen plenty of snakes in my time living with wolves. But it doesn’t matter how harmless it is, they always send a little slither of fear down my back.

Shaking off the sudden scare, I shove the coin back into my pocket and close my eyes, trying to sense the arcana of this place. I should have done this at Jebediah Wulfric’s grave, but I felt so rushed, like if we didn’t leave soon, something bad would happen.

But, as the sun beats down on me in between cloud covers, making the day seem a little warmer than it is, there’s nothing my senses can pick up, either physical or magical. There’s nothing here. It’s just an old, burned down building.

My first failure, I guess—

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