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refinery and everything.”
    “Lots of jobs,” Kenny sighed. “That’s hard to argue with. It’s always been tough going in the Maritimes. I know money was tight back when I was surfing off the north shore.”
    “Wait.” Charlie moved her attention from the television to the very old man behind the counter. “You used to surf the north shore of Nova Scotia?”
    “That’s where I met Robert August.” He pointed to one of the framed photographs on the wall of the shop. It was a signed, black-and-white shot of a young man in board shorts, cutting a sweeping line down a wave. “That was in the summer and the ocean was still cold enough to freeze your manhood off. And speaking of freezing . . .” He pushed the mugs toward her. “. . . take these before they get cold. Oh, and the apartment’s free end of September. You can have it if you want it.”
    Sleeping in without interruptions. Practicing without silence charms. Still close enough to Allie’s cooking. And bed. Charlie opened her mouth to say she wanted, but nothing came out.
    Kenny shook his head. “I’d cut you off if I hadn’t already poured. Your lip is twitching.”
     
     
     
    Auntie Gwen, Auntie Bea, and Auntie Carmen were waiting by the counter when Charlie got back to the store. Joe had left. Apparently Kenny’s uncanny ability to know who wanted what coffee could be thrown out of whack by the presence of the aunties. Hardly surprising; whole civilizations could be thrown out of whack by the presence of the aunties. And if some of the stories were true, had been.
    Auntie Bea looked stoic, Auntie Carmen looked concerned, but Auntie Gwen’s expression lifted the hair off the back of Charlie’s neck. She shot a silent What’s up? at Allie, who shrugged an equally silent I have no idea.
    “We just got off the phone with Jane,” Auntie Gwen said as Charlie put the mugs down. “And we decided you should be told this in person.”
    “I should be told?” Charlie asked, licking at the coffee slopped on the back of her hand.
    “Everyone here in Calgary needs to be told,” Auntie Bea announced. “We’re just starting with the two of you.”
    Auntie Carmen shook her head, concerned expression morphing to mournful. She took a deep breath, opened her mouth . . .
    And Auntie Gwen cut her off. “Alysha, your grandfather . . .”
    Charlie moved to Allie’s side. Alysha’s grandfather, Charlie’s Great Uncle Edward, held the same position back in Ontario that David did here in Calgary. Allie adored him.
    “. . . wavered during the ritual at Midsummer. It has been decided, there will be a Hunt.”

TWO
     
    A HUNT?” Behind the shield of the counter, Allie wrapped her fingers around Charlie’s. “Because Grandfather wavered ?”
    “Weakness at the heart of the family cannot be tolerated, Alysha.” Auntie Bea’s dark eyes narrowed. “You know that.”
    “But there hasn’t been a Hunt for generations.” Allie’s grip tightened past the point of pain. Charlie gritted her teeth. “Why hasn’t one of the uncles just challenged him?”
    “ Just challenged him?” Auntie Bea snorted.
    “David’s tied here,” Auntie Carmen sighed, thin fingers twitching at the hem of her pink polyester blouse. “I’m sure it was the only solution at the time, but no one else is strong enough.”
    Auntie Gwen shook her head. “Even if one of the others could defeat Edward . . .”
    “And we’re not saying anyone could,” Auntie Bea interjected.
    “If they could,” Auntie Gwen continued, “they couldn’t do it easily.”
    Auntie Carmen sighed again. “Not easily.”
    “David could have,” Auntie Bea snapped.
    Auntie Gwen turned on her. “David had a different destiny.”
    “Without David . . .” Auntie Carmen’s voice trailed off.
    “Without David,” Auntie Gwen continued, “it has to be a Hunt.”
    “Without a Hunt, the center will be too damaged to hold,” Auntie Bea pointed out, as though that, at least, should be obvious.
    “If the