Walnut Ridge

On a farm in the Blue Ridge mountains of North Carolina, Grace Pritchard hasn't slept through the night in months. The Oracle inside her doesn't rest the way it used to. The garden at the center of her property, sixty feet of carefully tended soil with forty-three carved objects buried beneath it, is changing. The warmth below has shifted. Something down there is finally paying attention.

It isn't alone in that.

High on the walnut ridge above the farm, something has been waiting since before ...