“But I—”
“No buts. That’s not negotiable. I was worried sick about you. What was I supposed to think? Do you even understand how selfish it was to disappear like that?”
“I guess not,” I said hoarsely. This was the worst—getting yelled at, feeling guilty for something that had been beyond my control. I wanted to yell, “None of it was my fault!” But I held it in for my safety—and for Aunt Jo’s. Who knew what the Order would do to her if I told her the truth?
I was sick of everything being out of my control. Anger burned through me as I clenched my fists under the table.
“So. Where were you? Not even your friends knew. Were you with those guys? The two you were telling me about?”
I wondered, for a moment, if I could get away with telling her an abbreviated version of the truth. The idea of continuing to lie to Aunt Jo—someone who had always treated me like I was her real, blood daughter—made me feel sick.
“There’s a cabin, in the woods. It’s not too far from here. I . . . discovered it. On a hike.” I swallowed. “I was scared.” And that, at least, was the truth. “I was standing there in the hospital with Cassie, and it looked like she might not . . .” I found myself getting choked up. “It looked like she was going to die, and it felt like my fault. Like I wasn’t there for her when she needed me this semester.” Aunt Jo murmured something to herself. “But it felt like everyone needed something different from me. And I didn’t know how to handle it all. Like everyone had a different idea of what my life should be. I had to get away.”
“Skye,” she said softly. “What happened to Cassie was not your fault. One thing has nothing to do with the other.” I wished right then that I could have told her everything, but that’s how Cassie had gotten hurt in the first place. If I broke down and told Aunt Jo, I’d only be putting her in danger, too. And after seeing Cass in the hospital that day, her face bruised and her arms and legs in casts—that was something I couldn’t face.
I just had to handle this on my own.
Not on your own, a voice in the back of my mind whispered. You have Asher now. You have the whole Rebellion on your side.
“A cabin,” Aunt Jo mused, breaking me out of my thoughts. “What kind of cabin?”
“Kind of old. There was one of those toilets with the chains and weird closets with lots of little drawers. But someone was living there much more recently: there was coffee from at least the nineties or something.”
Aunt Jo got a funny look in her eye. “I know that place,” she said. “I put that coffee there. Into the Woods has been trying to buy it for years, to use as a trail stop.” A small smile spread across her face. “How funny that you ended up in that cabin. That’s really where you went?”
I nodded.
“Thank you for telling me,” she said. “I’m not happy that you felt you had to run away for a few days instead of talking to me about it—”
“You were never here!”
“—but I understand that I was gone a lot. Jeez, Skye, I was just about to say that. I’m so sorry I left you alone for so long. I’m here now, and I’ll be here when you need me. Just talk to me, okay?” She eyed the cut on my face. “Believe it or not, your old Aunt Jo was a teenager once.”
“Please,” I snorted.
“All I’m saying is, I may know what you’re going through better than you think.”
“Fine.” I slowly let my fists unclench under the table. “I’ll try.”
“Good, but for now, you should go to bed,” she said. “You look exhausted.” She stood up and walked toward the door. When she got there, she turned around. The light from the stairs cast a fuzzy halo around her blondish-gray hair. There was something in her eyes that I couldn’t figure out.
Things were definitely different between us now. First Ian, now Aunt Jo.
I realized that the look in her eyes—it was worry. Fear. It was different from the looks she’d given me earlier in the winter, each time she was about to go away and afraid of leaving me alone. No, this wasn’t about what might happen to me. It was, I realized, about what I had done—or might do.
It was the same way Asher had treated me at the cabin. Like I was something fragile and yet unpredictable, something extremely precious.
I glanced at the window, wondering if he and Ardith—and Gideon now, too—were out there. Watching. Keeping me safe.
When I turned back from the window, Aunt Jo was still staring at me.
“You look older,” she said. “You know that?”
I thought about all that had happened to me since I’d turned seventeen.
“Yeah,” I said. “I guess I am.” There were dark circles under her eyes and the lines in her forehead looked deeper than I’d remembered. She looked older, too.
“G’night,” she said.
“Night, Aunt Jo,” I whispered back.
I couldn’t really remember what it felt like to be with my mom, but if I’d had to guess, I figured it probably felt exactly like this.
I stayed in the kitchen for a few minutes longer after Aunt Jo went upstairs, absently nibbling on a cookie. The spicy sweet taste reminded me of everything from before. Suddenly my stomach flipped, and I didn’t feel so great. A shiver ran down my spine as I remembered that time in the kitchen, at night, alone, when Raven had first confronted me. Was she out there right now? What if they all were? Waiting in the bushes and behind trees. Poised to attack the first chance they got.
I stood up quickly, turned the light off in the kitchen, and sprinted up the stairs to my room.
It was freezing in there, and it took only a second to figure out why: my window was wide open. I rushed to it—but instead of closing it automatically like I might have a month ago, I stuck my head out the window and looked up toward the roof.
“Asher?” I whispered. “Are you up there?” I heard a rustle of feathers in response, and then he appeared in my window.
“Hey.” He winked, his eyes glittering with mischief. “Want a hand up?” Grinning, I threw on a hoodie and sweatpants. I put my hand in his, and he pulled me up with him to the roof.
“Nice look,” he said.
“Shut up,” I replied. He put his arm around me, and I sank into the warmth of his body. All the tension I’d felt talking to Ian and Aunt Jo melted away, and I knew, right then, that this was home. Being with Asher. That was all that mattered.
As long as we were together, everything would be fine.
“They’re out there,” Asher said under his breath, looking out at the field below. “Do you see them?” I looked down at the field.
“Who?” I said. “I don’t see anything.”
“Shh,” he whispered. “Be still. Look again.”
This time, I did think I could make out some movement in the dark. Was I imagining things, or could I catch a glimpse of feathers among the trees, a flash of moonlit white against the night?
“Guardians,” I said in a low voice.
“Waiting.”
“For me.” I paused as I really let the weight of it sink in. “Asher, what if I see Devin at school tomorrow? What if I see Raven?” He tightened his arm around me protectively.
“Trust me, Skye, they’d never stage any kind of attack out in the open. At school like that, with everyone watching. Believe it or not, right now, school is the safest place to be.”
“I can’t believe it,” I said, shivering. “Hey, do you have anywhere to be tonight?”
“You mean other than right here?”
“I just thought, with Ardith and Gideon here—”
“Skye.” He stopped me. “I’m pretty sure protecting you is my top priority right now.”
“Good,” I said. “Look. I know this is stupid and embarrassing, but would you . . .”
“Yes?” He grinned.
“Um, sleep with me tonight? Just sleep, I mean. I hate saying this, but . . . I just don’t want to be alone.”
Asher raised an eyebrow. “Just sleep?” A smile tugged at one corn
er of his mouth in the most infuriating way.
I tried not to blush. It would only egg him on more. “Okay, you know what? Never mind. I’ll take my chances with the Guardians.”
“Oh, stop,” he said, helping me up. “I would love to just sleep with you, Skye.” He walked to the edge of the roof, then turned around, shaking his head. “Are you going to be this scared every night? Because I’ll have to check my calendar . . .”
I pushed him lightly. “Just don’t get used to it.”
We climbed back through my bedroom window. Asher took off his shoes and crawled into bed with me, pulling the covers tightly around us. I fit so perfectly in the crook of his arm. We were safe as long as we were together.
I turned off my bedside lamp, and we lay in the darkness.
“What’s the story with Ardith and Gideon?” I said sleepily.
“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” he whispered. “Go to sleep.”
As we dozed off, I thought I heard him mumble, “Never leave me.” Though it could have been “I’ll never leave you.” I wasn’t sure.
In the morning, I woke up before my alarm, as prepared to face school as I’d ever be. Asher was gone.
He always left before I was ready.
Chapter 9
That morning, I relished the familiarity of waking up in my own bed—but only for about five seconds. I was up and out of there like a shot. The exhaustion I’d been feeling since waking up in the cabin had melted away, replaced with a determined energy. I was back in River Springs, and I had things to do. I had to face my life again.
I reached for my jeans but hesitated. Remembering how ready-for-anything I’d felt the night of Cassie’s show at the Bean, I pulled on an off-the-shoulder sweater dress, tights, and motorcycle boots. A little blush, some mascara, tinted lip balm, a necklace or three, and a scarf, and I was good to go. My eyes blazed silver in the mirror. I didn’t even worry that they might not be normal again by the time I made it to my car. Somehow I knew they would be. I had to start trusting myself.
If I was going back to school, nobody was going to mess with me today.
“Whoa,” Aunt Jo said as I stomped through the kitchen in my heavy boots. “What did you do with Skye? And are those my boots?”
“I’m practicing mind-body consciousness,” I said, biting into a toaster strudel. “Look the part, act the part.”
“Just be nice to your teachers.” She tried to hide a smirk as she refilled her coffee mug.
“I am affronted!” I yelled, heading to the hall and zipping up my parka. “I am always nice!”
“Well, be extra nice today,” she called after me. “Offer to do extra credit or something. Get yourself back on track.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I mumbled. “See you later.” I hesitated in the doorway, remembering what it had felt like to come home to an empty house for weeks on end. “You’ll be home, right?”
“For sure I’ll be here. And you’re coming home right after school.”
“Got it,” I said. “Love you!”
“Ask the next time you borrow my things!” she called after me.
Oh, how I’d missed my car. The way it hugged the curves of the mountain roads. The way the piercing cold wind whipped at my hair. I always kept my windows open, even in the most freezing temperatures. Maybe because it made me think of skiing.
Or maybe flying.
I was early, but I wasn’t going right to school. I was going to pick up my best friend.
The closer I got to Cassie’s house, though, the more nervous I grew. What if she thought I had abandoned her? What if she never wanted to see me again? Suddenly, even though I felt sort of guilty for thinking it, the idea of Cassie hating me forever was so much worse than the thought of her dying.
I pulled around a tight bend and the grayish white side of her house came into view. The front yard had the same slightly askew, lived-in vibe it always had. Toy trucks and an overturned bucket of little green soldiers littered the frosted ground. As I parked alongside the curb, I noticed that the car parked directly in front of mine belonged to Dan. My heart beat double time. I hadn’t expected to find Dan here, too. I was hoping to have my reunions one at a time, in bite-size pieces.
Oh, well, I thought. Here goes nothing.
Good thing I’d worn my tough-girl boots.
The breeze was unseasonably warm today, the morning sky clear and bright, and even though it was still winter, I had a feeling I knew where to find them. Instead of ringing the front doorbell, I walked around through the side gate to the backyard.
Cassie and Dan were sitting side by side on the swing set with their backs to me. Dan was holding her hand, leaning in close to whisper in her ear. She giggled and swatted at him stiffly. Suddenly I panicked. They didn’t want to see me. Why would they? Whether I meant to or not, I had abandoned Cassie, and now there was no room for me in her life. She had Dan.
I took a deep breath.
“I better not feel like the third wheel all the time, now that you guys are couple of the year,” I said loudly. Dan whipped around so fast he almost fell off the swing.
“Skye! Holy crap, really?” He bounded over to me, grabbed me off my feet in a huge bear hug, and twirled me around.
“Ow.” I choked. “You don’t know your own strength.”
“Sorry,” he said, putting me down gently. “It’s just—you’re back! We missed you!” He turned to Cassie, as if she was going to chime in. But she still had her back to me.
Oh no, I thought. She’s mad. This is it. She thinks I abandoned her, and I’ll never be able to tell her the truth and I’ll have to find a new best friend and—
“Skye?” Cassie said breathlessly, and it sounded so normal—so like us—that she may as well have been about to say, This gossip isn’t going to spill itself! She tried awkwardly to turn around. “Is that really you? Shit, ow, wait—” She gripped the chains of the swing. “Dan! Crutches?”
“Oh, right, sorry.” He ran to her and picked the crutches up off the ground. Slowly he helped her lift herself onto them and turn around.
Cassie’s cascading reddish-blond waves had been hiding a neck brace, and her right leg was locked in a huge blue cast that went all the way up to the middle of her thigh. She looked up at me, and our eyes met. Half of her face was bruised, which gave her sort of an angry look.
I swallowed.
“Cass?” I said. “Oh my god.”
“Oh, whatever,” she said, a small smile lighting up her face. She was secretly into the fact that she looked like an invalid, I realized, as I broke into a smile, too. It was definitely dramatic looking. I bet she was getting tons of attention for it.
“You’re totally milking this, aren’t you?”
“What? No,” Cassie said, her smile widening like she really wanted to say, Who, me? “But listen, you’re going to have to come to me, because it’s effing impossible to move with this stupid cast on.” Before she even finished talking, I ran across the yard and threw my arms around her. “Ow,” she cried. “Ow, neck brace, neck brace!” But she was laughing. We both were.
Cassie pulled away and gave me a once-over. Her eyes looked glassy, but I knew she’d die before she let herself cry in public.
“Dan?” she said sweetly. “Can you get me that thing?”
Dan looked at her blankly. “What thing?”
She rolled her eyes. “You know, that thing. The thing I use to scratch inside my cast?”
“Oh, that thing. ’Course, babes.” I was surprised by the tenderness in his voice. He bent and kissed the top of her head. She smiled after him as he walked away, then turned to me.
“Babes? You guys say babes now?”
“Don’t change the subject,” she said, pointing her index finger at me accusingly. “Where the hell were you? I woke up and you were gone. And I thought something terrible must have happened to you, because there’s no way you would have left me there alone.” A tear brushed down her face, but she stubbornly ignored it. “So tell me
that’s it, right?” she said. “You were kidnapped? You were abducted by aliens? A tribe of hot nudist boys whisked you off to their native land, where they hailed you as queen?” She looked hopeful.
I swallowed. Face to face with Cassie, the story I’d told Aunt Jo about being scared felt flimsy and stupid. Cassie would never buy that. I was the strong one. I was the one who was supposed to be cool and levelheaded and unemotional. I was good in a crisis. I didn’t panic and run away. Cassie, of all people, would know I was lying.
“I don’t . . . have . . . a good reason,” I said. She stared at me, and the silence hung between us. I couldn’t keep lying to her like this. I opened my mouth to tell the truth, but something flashed in the woods behind her yard.
Guardians.
My head snapped up, and I glanced behind her toward the trees. Was it my imagination, or could I see a streak of white disappear behind an evergreen? It was a reminder that I could never tell Cassie the truth—no matter how much I wanted to. “I was scared,” I said quickly, trying to sound convincing. “I guess . . . I guess I didn’t handle it well.”
“That’s it?” She hobbled backward on her crutches. “Oh, gee, Skye, you think?” Well, thank god one of us was scared. It couldn’t have been me, you see, because I was the one in the coma!”
I glanced behind me, nervously.
“What do you keep looking for?” she asked. Suddenly recognition dawned on her face, and her jaw dropped. “I know that look. That’s the same look you had plastered to your face in the cafeteria all winter, and the look you had when we were waiting for the bus to the ski trip.” Her eyes widened. “You’re looking for them, aren’t you? Asher and Devin? They’re the reason you ran away!”
“What?” I cried. “No way!”
“Don’t play this game with me, Skye. The jig is so up. You left me. For a guy.”