Page 39 of Langiappe & Lost Legends

"Anyone else hungry?" I asked as Lucas helped steady me. "Because I feel like containing ancient magic should earn us at least a beignet. Or six."

Lucas jerked his chin to one of his shifters. “Ricky, go across the street and get a few dozen orders.”

“I’d better make sure you didn't scramble anything important in that head of yours before he gets back with food," Dre interjected with a sigh.

"Too late for that," Dani quipped. "She was scrambled way before this."

I would have argued, but honestly? After the day we'd had, she might have a point. Welcome to another day in New Orleans, where even the ground beneath your feet has stories to tell. Plus, the power to back them up. And where my sisters and I had a talent for finding new and exciting ways to almost destroy the city while trying to save it. At least we had beignets to look forward to. Assuming we survived long enough to eat them.

CHAPTER 14

DANIELLE

After setting up the shield network, we returned to find Willowberry had more secrets to share. I was reviewing party preparations because the universe thought we were experts at juggling an impending magical catastrophe with event planning. Just then, Cami called us all to the back forty with an urgency in her voice I'd never heard before. "The grounds are speaking," she said without preamble when we gathered. Her usual composed demeanor was shaken and her eyes held centuries of knowing. "The shields you created have awakened something. Something that's been waiting."

I felt it the moment she pointed it out. There was a resonance in the earth itself. It was a rhythm that matched the crystal's energy but had more layers. The manicured lawn seemed to shimmer in the late afternoon light. The way it hit the ground revealed patterns that shouldn't have been visible.

"Are those..." Phi started as her detection equipment began whirring erratically.

"Circles," Cami confirmed. "Ancient ones. They were here long before this became a plantation. The history that followed is a part of them now. I can feel the pain, the strength, and the endurance of my fellow slaves. It's all woven into their power."

The gravity of her words settled over us. Willowberry's history, like many Southern plantations, was built on the suffering of enslaved people. The thought of using power connected to such pain made my stomach turn.

"The enslaved people who were forced to work this land," Dre said softly, her healer's intuition clearly picking up on something, "they left their own marks on these power lines, didn't they?"

"Yes," Cami confirmed. "The magic of their lives seeped into the earth. Much of it came from the bonds of community that helped us survive unimaginable hardship.”

“That power runs deeper than any of the other magic that came later,” Adèle pointed out as she joined us. “It's part of why the ley lines here are so complex, so layered with meaning and memory."

Cami nodded and smiled down at our familiar. "The circles have guardians," she continued softly. "I was once one of the spirits who remained. We chose to transform our pain into protection. Phoebe’s magic transformed me because I was the only true witch. The other continue to watch over this land. They play a great role in ensuring its power is never again used for cruelty."

Adèle rubbed against Kota’s legs. "The guardians have been waiting," our familiar said. "They sensed the crystal's return, felt the echoes of power that mirror their own binding magic."

An idea occurred to me, but I hesitated to voice it out loud. It felt wrong somehow. "Can we use their help?" I stopped as the weight of history became heavy in my chest. "No. We can't exploit their power and pain for our purposes."

"No," Cami agreed. "But we can ask. You should listen to their stories. It will help you understand why they chose to stay and protect this place." She led us to the largest circle that was now visible as a subtle pattern in the grass. "This wasour place of gathering. Where we found moments of peace and community, despite everything. We sang here, shared stories, and kept our traditions alive in whispers and hidden rituals."

"I remember," she continued, her voice soft with memory. "The strength of the others around me. The dignity they maintained even when everything was trying to break them kept me going. We transformed this place with our resilience and unwavering spirit."

I felt tears prick in my eyes as Cami shared her story. The raw truth of it settled into my bones - how people had found ways to preserve their humanity, their connections, and their sacred traditions even in the midst of unthinkable cruelty. They'd turned their gathering place into hallowed ground not through grand ceremonies, but through small, precious moments of community and resistance.

"Thank you for sharing this with us," I said softly, meaning it with every fiber of my being. "For trusting us with these memories."

Dre knelt down to touch the earth where the circle was visible in the grass. "You all didn't just survive here," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "You guys created something powerful and sacred in spite of everything you protected each other. Kept your spirits free even when your bodies weren't."

Kota moved to stand beside me. "We shouldn't ask anything of them," she said quietly. "This is their space. It’s been consecrated by their experiences. We have no right to-"

"But that's exactly why they might choose to help," Cami interrupted gently. "The guardians didn't stay to be passive witnesses. They remained to ensure this power would only ever be used for protection and never for harm. That's why they're guardians, not just spirits." She looked at each of us in turn. "They understand better than anyone the importance of standing against those who would abuse power."

I took a deep breath, trying to process everything. "How do we... I mean, what's the proper way to approach them? This needs to be done with absolute respect."

Cami's smile was warm with approval. "We begin with acknowledgment. With listening." She moved to the edge of the circle and began setting out small items from a pouch at her waist. There were dried herbs, a few stones, and a length of raw cotton. "First, we honor those who came before. We recognize their strength, their dignity, and their humanity. Then, if they choose to respond, we listen."

She gestured for us to sit in a smaller circle just outside the larger pattern in the grass. "Take off your shoes," she instructed. "Feel the earth beneath you. This ground holds memories. You need to be ready to receive them with humility and grace."

I slipped off my boots, noticing how the others did the same without hesitation. The grass was cool beneath my feet. I felt their power thrumming through the soil. It was an echo of songs sung in whispers. There were also prayers and unwavering hope passed down through generations.

Cami began to hum softly as she worked, a melody that seemed to rise from the earth itself. The air grew thick with memory and meaning as she prepared to reach out to the guardians who had chosen to remain. They stayed to protect and to transform suffering into something sacred.

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