“Did I feel you poking into things that were none of your business, releasing certain energies without discovering if those energies were vicious or benign, not to mention being directly responsible for the snuffing out of a power without ever considering if that power might possibly be a guardian protecting the people you profess to be so concerned about rather than a jailor illicitly confining the innocent?”

“He was a guardian?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Charlotte; he was a nasty piece of work. Once his sort’s started on stuffed toys, the world is a better place without them. But he was neither family nor bothering family and should have been left alone. Why are you in Vermont?”

“I’m here to see a friend who’s playing at a street fair.”

“You’re in Vermont for the music?”

“Have you met me? It’s why I go anywhere.”

“Only for the music?”

“And, apparently, the teddy bears.”

“I see. So given this was clearly a case of a Wild Power assuming she knew best . . .” When Auntie Jane hesitated, Charlie frowned. The aunties liked to pause and allow their listeners a chance to really realize just how much trouble they were in. This didn’t sound like that kind of a pause. It sounded, strangely enough, like Auntie Jane was unsure. “. . . have you spoken with Catherine recently?”

“Auntie Catherine?” Charlie couldn’t see a clear path from teddy bears to Auntie Catherine, but that didn’t mean Auntie Jane couldn’t. “This morning in Vegas. Why?”

“Vegas again.” As disapproving snorts went, Auntie Jane could give Dan a run for his money. “Of course. Drink some tea with honey, Charlotte, your voice sounds like you’ve been gargling glass.”

“Funny that,” Charlie muttered. Given the emphatic click as Auntie Jane hung up, she’d either called from one of the farmhouse’s old rotary phones or Auntie Phyllis had created a new app.

Auntie Jane and Auntie Catherine didn’t get along, although, Charlie realized, being able to see random bits of the future would put a strain on most relationships, and Auntie Jane’s expectations had never been particularly flexible. That said, this was the first time Auntie Jane had ever assumed that Charlie and Auntie Catherine were in contact because they were Wild. Did Auntie Jane want Auntie Catherine to call home? Was Charlie supposed to pass on the message?

“A little less obscure in my life would help,” she pointed out to a squirrel watching her from the top of a gravestone. “So I need to ask Gary what specifically sent him out on the road and I need to ask Auntie Catherine to call home and I need to ask Jack to be less . . . Jack.”

The squirrel’s response sounded distinctly rude.