Shadows Cast by Stars

boathouse, out to the end of the dock as fear transforms itself into fury. How dare he chase me, after what I saw in the park? How dare he!

His footsteps echo behind me. “Cass! It isn’t what you think,” he calls from several steps away, as if he’s afraid to approach.

“Isn’t it?” My words come out as a hiss. “I saw you with her. What was all this about, coming to get me, holding my hand? What was that all about? I’m not like her. I’m not like that.” I spit the last word at him.

“I know. I know you aren’t,” he says, his voice halting, unsure. This is not the Bran I know. He holds his hands out toward me, pleading. “Please, Cass. You have to listen. She has ideas, Avalon. She won’t listen. She kissed me. I didn’t kiss her, and I’m sorry you had to see that. There was something between us, once, but it hasn’t been that way for a long time. That’s where I went when I left you with Ms. Adelaide. She had something of mine I needed back, and I had something of hers. I thought she’d understand, but…” His voice trails off.

I want to believe him. I want to believe him so badly it hurts.

“Ask Paul,” he says. His eyes are full of desperation. “Please. He’ll tell you.”

I turn toward Bran. A green stone hangs at his throat. The one Avalon wore the day I met her. With two quick steps, I stand right before him, catching the stone in my hand. “Then what is this?”

“That?” He meets my gaze. Moonlight reflects in his eyes. “That is mine. Avalon took it months ago, and I’ve been trying to get it back ever since. That’s what you saw-me, trying to get it back.”

“And the whiskey?”

“I didn’t drink any.” He whispers the words, and I can tell they’re true, but I can also tell that he can taste the memory of whiskey on his lips. If a bottle appeared in my hand and I offered it to him now, he’d drink. “I’m trying, Cass,” he says. “I don’t want to be like my mom, but it’s hard. It’s so hard sometimes.”

We stand like that for several minutes, me gazing into his eyes, searching for-something. I don’t know what, exactly, and finally I sigh and pull him close, resting my forehead against his.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” he says.

“I think so,” I say.

“Good.” He traces my arm with a single finger. “I want you to have…”

The sentence remains incomplete as the dock suddenly lurches. Bran makes a desperate grab for me but misses, and we both tumble into the water.

I try to swim back, but my hand slides off something smooth and slick that blocks my way. It writhes in the water, churning it to white as I kick with all my strength, trying to get away.

“Here!” Bran screams. He’s back up on the dock. “Give me your hand!”

I swim toward him, stretching my hand out to his, but as our fingers touch, I’m hit square in the stomach and borne to the bottom of the lake, pinned there by a glittering mass of black.

I kick and try to scream, but water fills my mouth. My hands rake across leathery skin as clouds of sparks fly at me, misting my vision so I can’t see anything as I lash out, fighting with all the strength I have. The creature bites me right in the stomach and I scream, and scream again, even as water gushes into my mouth, down into my lungs, consuming me whole. The lake is my coffin, and I am about to die.

No, I think. No, this isn’t how it’s supposed to be! I will not be trapped here in the dark with that creature. I want to live, so I can hunt it down and do to it what it’s done to me!

And with that, I start to kick-kick with all my might. I will not die here. I will not die. This is my life. The lake and her creature will not steal it from me.

My hand finds the knife Madda gave me and unsheathes it, blindly lashing out at whatever is pinning me down. I strike and strike and scream and forget that I can’t breathe underwater. I don’t care. I will kill this thing that seeks to kill me.

And then, it’s gone. I float. Up, down, I don’t know. I don’t care.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Hands lift me from the water. I drift above my body, looking down at it, at Bran, at my father running down the dock, at Madda chasing after him.

I think I might be dead.

Bran presses his mouth to mine and blows air into my lungs. I know this, but I don’t feel it. He tries again, and then Madda takes over, pushing Bran out of the way. My father holds him back while he moans, “Oh Jesus, oh Jesus, Cass. Oh Jesus…”

A strong voice whispers in my ear, “You aren’t going anywhere yet. Get back in this body right now!”

All at once, I’m pulled in two directions simultaneously, and then with an audible snap I am back inside my body, staring up at Madda as she blows breath tasting of whiskey and wood smoke into my lungs.

My body jerks and as she draws back, lake water gushes out of my mouth, all over me, all over her, all over the dock. I retch and retch as if my lungs have drunk the entire lake dry and now they’ve decided to give it back.

Arms grasp me, strong arms, and I look up to see my father. He rocks me back and forth. “Oh sweet Jesus,” he whispers. “I thought I had lost you, too. Not you, too.”

My throat aches, but my rib cage aches more. “You’re hurting me.”

Madda pulls my father back. “Lou, let her go. I need to check her over. Bran, step back. You’re in my way. Go get my medicine kit. It’s up at the house. Go!”

Bran thunders down the dock and disappears into the shadows.

Madda eases me down. Pain sears my skin as she peels back my wet shirt. She sucks in a breath. “Cassandra, I need you to stay very still. You’re bleeding quite badly. Lou, get something for a stretcher.”

I reach out for my father’s hand, but all I touch is nothingness.

• • •

They carried me up the hill on an old door. But I don’t remember this. I don’t remember anything except the blackness that stood over me like a stalwart soldier and refused to let consciousness draw close.

Madda sits beside my bed. Her eyes are closed. Her face is pale. I’m not sure whether she’s asleep or not, so I don’t move. If she is sleeping, I don’t want to wake her.

Every inch of my body hurts. Sparks float before my eyes, threatening to draw me back under when I move my head. I try wiggling my toes. I shift my body a little to the left, a little to the right, just enough to know I can move but not enough to upset the sparks that buzz about me like flies.

Madda’s eyes flutter open. “You’re awake,” she says. Her voice is hoarse and her eyes are bloodshot. “Let me get your father.” She rises slowly and leaves the room.

I hear them talking, but I can’t make out the words- just the low rumble of my father’s voice and Madda’s gravelly response. Then, footsteps echo down the hall. Madda enters first, followed by my father. He looks as bad as Madda. “Hey, starshine,” he says. “You gave us quite a scare.”

I force a smile onto my face, though it hurts so much. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says as he bends to kiss my forehead. “I love you, Cassandra.”

I try to find words, but they won’t come, so I nod.

“Okay, that’s enough for now,” Madda says, gently pushing my father back. “Now that she’s awake, we need to have a talk.”

Madda herds him out the door. I hear him walk away and wish he’d come back.

Madda kneels at my side and draws the blanket down. Then she lifts me up a little, just enough to wedge a pillow under my back. “I need you to see what happened,” she says.

But I don’t want to. I squeeze my eyes shut.

Her hand is cool to the touch. It falls on my stomach where the cool vanishes, replaced by blistering heat. It hurts so much. I moan. I can’t help it.

“Sorry,” she says. “This is going to smart, but you need to see.”