“Just give me a minute,” I said sleepily, watching the clouds drift overhead. They were dark around the edges. Eldric had promised a storm. Was that really only this morning? No wonder I was so exhausted. For once the heat felt pleasant, like a soft blanket. Devin started to snore beside me. Isadora was put out. She had a sword again and she clearly wanted to use it. She hacked at the weeds, grinning manically.
“Eldric,” I whispered. I pushed up on my elbows, waiting. “Eldric.”
Nothing happened. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, that he’d come striding out of trees or appear next to me in the grass. He’d said good-bye. I sighed. “Isadora?”
“Aye?”
“If I called your name and you were inside the rath, could you hear me?”
“Only if you used my true name.”
“Which is?”
“None of your business,” she scowled. “Fae don’t give out their true names, not to anyone.”
“Oh.” Come to think of it, I’d read that somewhere. And that meant even though I finally knew Eldric’s name, I didn’t know his true name. And he’d broken up with me before we’d even had a chance to figure out if we wanted to be together in the first place.
Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, I just felt tired and despondent. I got up and wandered toward the birch grove on the edges of the field, letting Devin sleep and Isadora practice her swordplay.
The shadows were dark and welcoming, but the birch trees glowed like candlesticks in the shafts of sunlight filtering through the leaves. It was peaceful and quiet here. I could barely hear the sound of birds or Devin snoring. The white branches swayed in a wind, which didn’t touch the grass or the pond’s surface. It smelled green. It made me smile, made a musical hum build in the back of my throat. I turned in a circle, arms out, letting the sun dapple my face.
“Jo!” I thought Isadora might be saying my name, but it was so quiet I could barely hear her. The trees danced around me.
“Jo!” Her little voice was annoying, like a fly buzzing around my head. I swatted it away, hummed louder. Birch was so slender and pretty. I’d never noticed before.
“Jo!” I squinted. For some reason I could barely see on the other side of the trees. The sun was too bright in the field and painfully hot. It was nicer in the grove. I turned away from Devin and Isadora and their frantic waving.
“Josephine Alice Blackwell.”
It was Devin that time. The use of my full name made me start. I could see him a little clearer.
He didn’t look happy.
He was trying to get inside the grove, but the wind was tossing the trees too violently. He was avoiding the branches like they were elf arrows. His voice was muffled. I frowned. “What?”
“Don’t let them touch you!” he yelled.
I looked back because Isadora was now trying to stab the nearest birch with her sword. It was like the use of my full name had woken me up. Jo was apparently just my speaking-name. And if Devin hadn’t known my middle name I would still be trying to dance with the birch trees.
Because they weren’t birch trees.
They were tall, skeletal old women with ragged white dresses and ragged white hair. Their eyes were too black, arms too long, fingers extended.
“Don’t let them touch you!” Devin repeated.
Easier said than done.
I was in the heart of the grove and they slapped at me with their long arms, branches dragging this way and that, trying to catch in my hair, trying to claw at my chest. The hot wind seared my nostrils. I jumped as if we were playing double-Dutch jump rope. I ducked and weaved and sweated through my shirt. My throat burned, my legs muscles ached.
I wished fervently for Granddad’s handsaw.
The birch women kept swatting at me and my dance became frantic. I didn’t know how long I could keep it up. I somersaulted to avoid getting poked in the eye.
“Keep going!” Devin yelled, trying to reach my hand. “You’re so close.”
It didn’t look close, and it sure as hell didn’t feel close.
“On your left!” Isadora shouted. I jerked out of the way. The leaves rattled like a hiss. Sweat and dirt ground into the pinpricks left by the arrows. I inched forward, using the most foul language I could come up with. When I reached the edge of the grove, it was like crawling out of a trench. Devin grabbed my shoulders and pulled me the last of the way out. I was panting, my lungs screaming, sweat soaking my hair and stinging my eyes
“What the hell just happened?” I croaked. Devin opened a water bottle and thrust it at me. I guzzled it so greedily and so quickly that I gave myself the hiccups.
Isadora snapped a curse at the birch trees and they shook their branches at her menacingly and then subsided.
“Seriously, what the hell, woman?” I said.
“Those aren’t regular birch trees.”
I rolled over to glare at her. “You think?”
“It’s the One with the White Hand,” she explained, hovering well out of reach. “They are usually solitary. Groves like these are rare.”
“Don’t I feel special.”
“And as Samhain approaches, everyone stirs.”
“Great. Why couldn’t I let them touch me?” I groaned, trying to sit up. My legs felt like marmalade.
“If they touch your head, you go mad.”
I blinked, horrified.
“And if they touch your heart, you die.”
I shivered, crawling farther away from the woods and into the field.
I’d never look at a birch tree the same way again.
Chapter 13
Eloise
Lucas and I wandered through the park while he told me about his home, about people that turned into birds and deer and otters, and tunnels of silver under the ground.
“So, if I’m part of the Deer clan, does that mean I’m Fae too?” I frowned. “Because I don’t feel particularly deerlike.”
The sun gilded his profile. “Your Fae blood is very diluted,” he said. “It’s a curiosity more than a strength. We value history and bloodlines. That’s why Antonia was chosen. Strahan likely thought she had just enough of a connection that the courts would follow her. It’s tricky with mortals. We need them, but we don’t want to need them.”
“You need them? Why?”
“To vary the bloodlines, to have children. Some Fae think of humans only as animals, and it galls them to be dependent on them in any way.”
“What about you?” I asked quietly. “What do you think about humans?” I was almost afraid of his answer. He wanted Strahan deposed. I could be a means to an end, whatever Jo might say about how he looked at me.
He was looking at me like that now. It made me warm all over. “I’m pledged to you, Eloise.”
“Oh.” I tried not to sound disappointed.
“But even if I weren’t,” he said, “I would still be at your side.” He took my hand. “I want to show you something.”
I let him pull me along. His fingers entwined in mine, grounded me when I was so tired I felt like I could drift away. I might as well be pollen. He found a secluded stretch of lawn and winked at me.
Just before he leaped up into the air, transforming into a hawk.
His chest was white, with brown wing feathers darkening at the tips. His eyes were green, even from a distance. His talons looked as deadly as the sword he wielded in human form. He soared above me and I watched him spellbound as he drifted on invisible pockets of air. He was beautiful, magical. And the splendor of it washed away some of the fear and fatigue clinging to me like mud.
He let out a shrill, piercing cry that shivered over the treetops. He widened his circles until he was right on the edge of the woods, a brown speck in the distance. He dropped, gave another cry, and flew back my way.
When he landed in the grass, shimmering back into the brown-haired boy I knew, he wasn’t alone. He grinned, taking my hand again and turning me in a slow circle as if he were waltzing. Birds filled the sky, settli
ng on branches and benches. There were cardinals, like the ones that had watched my mom and me on the roof. Blue jays perched next to sparrows and yellow finches. Hummingbirds darted; pigeons cooed. A heron glided past on his way to the pond, gray-blue feathers the color of water.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I whispered. A chickadee landed on my arm and watched me with curious eyes. I laughed. “Are they all Fae?” I asked, astounded.
“No, but I can speak to them. Otherwise, they’d never share the sky with a hawk.”
“Why not?” The chickadee hopped down my arm to my wrist.
“They might think I was hungry.”
“You’d eat them?” The chickadee flew off, insulted.
Lucas laughed. “I prefer hamburgers,” he said.
“Does it hurt? When you change, I mean.”
He shook his head. “No.”
At some silent, secret signal, the birds all lifted into the air and flew away. Feathers drifted to the grass like multicolored snow.
I beamed at Lucas. “Thank you.”
He bowed. “Simple joys can arm you for battle better than any weapon can.” He glanced at the sun, sinking behind the town. “We should go,” he said.
We walked through the streets, and Lucas put his arm around me. It probably shouldn’t have made me so happy, considering what was happening all around us, but it did. It was simple, like any boy who liked a girl.
We got to the bus station just before dusk. Clouds gathered, dark as pewter and edged with fire from the last of the sunlight. Lucas glamoured his sword away so no one paid much attention to us. Well, not as much anyway. He was still handsome, with a smile that could sell toothpaste to the toothless. I bought us coffees and we found seats in the back. There was one bus out of town leaving at seven and after that it would be mostly deserted. I texted my mom again, then leaned back against the hard plastic seat.
I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. “Are you really a hundred and eighty-seven years old?” I asked.
I felt him smile into my hair. “Yes.”
“That’s pervy.”
He kissed my temple. “I’m about nineteen by your reckoning. Time runs differently for us, remember?”
“You were the hawk at the party, weren’t you?” I drifted off before he could answer me.
I woke up a little while later. Lucas’s arm was still around my shoulder. I kept falling asleep on him. At this rate he’d get a complex that I thought he was boring. I looked up at him through my lashes. “Don’t you sleep?”
He just angled his head, leaning down. I could see the hawk in him, the alertness, the absolute focus on me and me alone. I shifted so we were closer. My breath was frayed and there was heat lightning flashing through me. I swallowed, parting my lips.
And then the others arrived.
“I’m beginning to dislike your friends.” Lucas smiled against my mouth. Our lips were touching and we still weren’t kissing.
“Me too,” I murmured back.
We pulled away as Devin set down a large garbage bag. Jo dropped onto the seat across from me. She was ragged, covered in dirt, with her hair in knots.
“What happened to you?” I asked when she didn’t bother to wink at me or waggle her eyebrows suggestively because she’d caught Lucas and me nose to nose.
“A birch tree tried to bitch-slap me.” She looked a little shell-shocked.
I blinked at her, then at Devin. He just nodded. “Blimey,” I said, using her favorite word. A ghost of a smile touched her lips. I handed her the rest of my coffee. “Here. Clearly you need this more than I do.”
“The veil is thinning,” Isadora said, marching along the backs of the chairs. Lucas nodded like that made perfect sense. I glanced at him quizzically.
“The closer to Samhain, the farther the Fae can roam,” he explained. “And the easier it is for mortals to see them.”
“I do not like birch trees anymore,” Jo muttered. “If I find one on the farm, I’m chopping it down for firewood.” She rubbed her arms. “That was not fun.” She set down the empty cup, wiping her mouth with the back of her scratched hand. “I’m going to get some air,” she said.
“I’ll come with you,” Devin said automatically.
She smiled wearily at him. “You don’t have to. I’ll be right outside; you can watch me protectively through the window.” She wandered out, still rubbing her arms. She went around the corner to where her car was parked in the alley and sat on the hood. Her hair trailed behind her, the ruffles of her skirt torn. She looked sad.
Devin and I exchanged a worried glance. I wanted to go join her, but I knew better than anyone that sometimes not talking was the best cure. So I stayed where I was, in an uncomfortable plastic chair, worrying. Time trickled.
“This is the part of the book I always want to skip through,” Devin admitted, rubbing his face. “The boring rest-until-you’re-strong-enough-and-freak-yourself-right-out-while-you’re-at-it part.”
“You don’t look freaked out,” I assured him.
He snorted. “Of course I don’t; I am coolness personified.”
“If you say so.” I grinned. “Is that why you’re tapping your foot like a deranged hummingbird?”
He opened one eye. “Where’s the love, Hart? Where’s the love?”
We sat back and tried to get comfortable for the long wait. He was right; this part was almost worse than being attacked. The constant waiting, the sizzle of adrenaline in the belly.
“Eloise.” Lucas stood slowly. “Eldric Strahan is talking to your friend.”
Eldric was sprawled on the hood of Jo’s car, the sunlight on his face making him look younger than he had in the rath, surrounded by the Grey Ladies. It warmed him, made him seem more human, more vulnerable. I still wanted to go out there and kick him, though.
Jo looked wretched as it was, but something about her glowed when he was beside her. Even I could see that. “Leave them,” I said reluctantly. “But watch him.”
Isadora floated innocently away, toward the door.
“Don’t let her see you,” I said.
“Teach Grandma to suck eggs, mortal,” she shot back. “I’m going to check on her, then go meet the others. We have maneuvers to discuss.”
“You know Eldric?” I asked Lucas.
“Of course,” he replied tightly. “How could I not? He’s Strahan’s son. He’s not to be trusted.”
I sighed, hearing him echo my own thoughts. Eldric had been benignly ambivalent about my capture and hadn’t lifted a finger to stop the Grey Ladies from giving me away. But he hadn’t hurt me either.
And Jo had good instincts, I felt obliged to admit, if only to myself. She’d never let him hurt Devin or me, no matter how much she wanted to make out with him. Devin was still frowning out the window, but not at Jo. “Storm’s coming.”
He climbed up on a chair and turned up the volume on the television hanging in the corner. “Hey, Doug,” he called out to his uncle, over the heads of passengers lining up for the last bus. “Change it to the weather channel, would you?” His uncle fiddled with the remote, aiming through the plastic partition of his booth. The channels changed and changed again until he found the right one.
“Residents of Rowan and surrounding areas should take immediate shelter,” the newscaster said in strident, professional tones. “We repeat, a tornado warning is in effect for Rowan and surrounding counties. Active weather is imminent, producing strong and damaging winds, hail, and danger from flying debris. Take immediate shelter in a basement or a room with no windows.”
“But there’s not even any wind,” I said. The trees were still, and even the litter on the curb didn’t skitter across the pavement. The quiet was eerie, actually.
“Not yet,” Lucas said grimly. “But look at the clouds.”
I looked again. The clouds charged toward us, not just black, not just green, but shaped like horses and stags blowing fire from their nostrils. The sky cracked and broke open.
> “Get Jo. Now.”
Chapter 14
Jo
“I tried to stay away.”
Eldric climbed up to sit next to me on the hood of my car. The metal was hot and he winced, though that could have been because of the iron. He was careful not to brush any bare skin over the hood. I didn’t turn my head to look at him. I couldn’t bear to see his beautiful brooding face looking distant or cold. I wanted to remember him smiling wickedly, kissing me.
His voice changed. “What happened to you?”
I pushed tangled hair off my shoulder. “The One with the White Hand.”
He cursed softly, under his breath. “I told you this was dangerous.”
“I know.”
He leaned back against the window. “You should put rowan berries and salt in your pockets, for safekeeping.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” I wished he would go away. It hurt to have him so close and so far at the same time.
“You’d do well to stay away from me.”
“Yes, you’ve said that already.” Was it really necessary to break my heart all over again? I rubbed my breastbone, as if that would help. “You came to me. Did you have something else to say?”
“Yes. I—” He cut himself off with a frustrated sound. He jerked a hand through his hair. “You don’t get it.” His voice was raw. “You can’t belong to Antonia and Eloise Hart and belong to me.”
“Then how about I belong to myself?” Though the truth was I did want to belong to him. Or at least have us belong to each other.
“You don’t get it,” he said again.
“Maybe not,” I agreed. “But neither do you. You’re not your father, Eldric. And you can love him and defy him at the same time.” I smiled but there was no humor in it. “I’m proof of that, with you,” I added softly.
“I don’t know what you have planned, though I’m sure it’s something reckless and insane, but my father can never know about you. About us.”
“You said there is no us,” I replied evenly. “So you don’t need to be afraid that I’ll embarrass you.” I bit the inside of my cheek. Farm girls don’t cry, I reminded myself.