“Just making conversation.”
“Why?”
“Are you always so bitchy? Shit, just trying to be friendly.”
“Oh.” I glance away. He’s right. I am being bitchy and have no reason to be. “Sorry. I haven’t been feeling well.”
“I heard. You okay?” His eyes might be plain brown and a little too small, but they’re squinting in what looks like genuine concern.
“Yeah.” I shift the basket from one arm to the other. “Thanks.”
He nods at it. “It’s a long walk to Madda’s. I could double you, if you want.”
“No, thanks,” I say as I pick up my pace. I don’t know what it is-the look in his eyes, the strange smile pulling at his mouth, but the last thing I want is to go anywhere with him.
Cedar rides beside me. “Oh, come on. You can sit up here on the handlebars. I won’t bite-promise.”
“No, thanks. I’m still working on getting better. I don’t want to risk falling off and getting hurt again.”
“No; let me show you.” He pedals hard, cutting me off with a skid of tire. “Here-sit here.” He moves in to grab me, but I sidestep him.
“Cedar, I don’t want to.” I walk on, ignoring him as he curses and makes another grab for me.
“Come here,” he says, this time without the pleasant air.
“No!” I glare at him, but something’s wrong. I can feel it. No matter what I say, I don’t think he’ll take no for an answer. He catches my wrist and holds me fast, pulling me toward him, smiling, until I twist and wrench myself free.
Sparks flash around my eyes as I break into a run. I hear Cedar grunt as he pedals hard, but I’m off the road and into the woods. Brambles slash at my legs. Branches reach out to tear at my face, but I don’t care. The sparks cluster around my head, blurring my vision as I fight to get away from him.
I can hear him crashing behind me. “Stop! Stop, damn it! Don’t go in there! I’m not going to hurt you!”
I continue to run until he tackles me. We fall into a thicket of stinging nettle and I claw at his face.
“Jesus Christ, stop!” he says as he tries to pin my hands down.
“Don’t touch me!” I strike at him.
“Stop it!” His hands are so big that he holds both of my wrists at once. “You shouldn’t be here. Ah, shit!” He stands up, pulling me with him, then lets go. Angry red welts run up his legs and more are sprouting up all over his face. He points at the spear-leafed plant crushed by our fall. “Stinging nettles? Why did you have to go through stinging nettles?”
“I didn’t. If you hadn’t chased me, we wouldn’t be here.” Welts are rising on my hands and arms.
“Come on. We need to get out of here. This is old burial ground-not a good place to be.” He glances around and holds out a hand. When I don’t take it, he rolls his eyes. “I’m not a monster, you know.”
“Right,” I mutter. “And all that stuff out there on the road? When I said no? Why wasn’t that good enough for you?”
“Shh,” he whispers. His eyes dart around, searching for something among the trees as I realize the birds have fallen silent. “We need to go-now.”
I shiver and follow him back to the road.
“What on earth happened to you two?” Madda jumps off her ladder, newly severed blackberry cane still in hand, gaping at us as Cedar leans his bike against the gate. Our legs and arms are stained green from the dock I found along the roadside and used to take away the worst of the sting.
“Nettles,” Cedar says. “On the old burial ground.”
“What,” Madda says, fixing Cedar with a piercing glare, “were you doing on the burial ground?”
I speak before Cedar has a chance to. “Cedar chased me into the forest.”
“What?” Madda says.
“I thought he was going to hurt me.”
Madda’s face loses all its color. “Didn’t you see the wardings, Cassandra?”
“What wardings?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t know what the wardings for a burial ground look like,” she snaps.
I grind my teeth together. How am I supposed to know what wardings look like if no one has bothered to tell me? How am I supposed to know the rules and regulations of this place if they aren’t spelled out anywhere? The words try to force their way out, even though I know I’ll regret them later, but Cedar interjects first.
“The markers weren’t there.” His voice is hard. “I double-checked as we were leaving. They’re gone.”
“That can’t be.” Madda starts to pace back and forth, tugging at her chin. She stops and leans toward Cedar so suddenly that he sits back and hits his head against the wall. “You’re positive?”
“Yes, Madda,” he says firmly. “The markers are missing.”
“Okay,” Madda says. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Cedar, you’re coming with me. We need to see the Elders. Cassandra, you’re going to stay here.” She fixes me with a stern look. “Go inside. There’s a bottle of vinegar in the pantry. Use it to clean that green stuff off you. It’ll kill the last of the nettle sting, too. Then go home and come back tomorrow. If anyone sees the two of you looking like this, well, talk’ll spread all over town like wildfire, and not in a good way.”
I notice that this doesn’t seem to bother Cedar, but it sure bothers me. He got what he wanted, didn’t he? I can’t help feeling he’s one of those people who taints everything he touches, and now I’m damned by association.
I’ve just finished washing my arms and my legs with vinegar when someone knocks on the door. Quickly I pull on my clothes and look up to find Avalon peering through the curtains. “I know you’re in there,” she calls. “Let me in!”
Her nose wrinkles when I open the door. “What’s that smell?”
“Vinegar.”
“Oh. Where’s Madda?”
“Gone into town,” I say, though I know perfectly well that Avalon must have passed Madda on her way up here.
She motions to my green-stained and welted legs. “So, what happened?”
Like I’m about to tell her. “Long story,” I say, waving her away.
“Huh. Looks painful.” She trails her hand across the table, over the counter, touching the glass bottles of herbs lined up, waiting for Madda’s return, as if she owns them all. “Do you like it? Being a witch’s helper?”
“She isn’t a witch.” I cap the vinegar and set it back in the pantry. “She’s a medicine woman. There’s a difference.”
“Whatever.” She opens a cupboard and begins to paw through the contents.
“I don’t think you should do that,” I say.
She doesn’t stop. “Why?”
“Because that’s where Madda keeps her poisons. You should know that.”
She cocks an eyebrow at me. “Really? Madda never taught me that sort of thing.”
“Oh, well, that mushroom, the one in that container you’re about to pick up? It’s called fly agaric. It’s so poisonous even the dew from it can kill you.”
“Oh.” Avalon closes the cupboard door and tries to pretend that she’s not interested.
I can’t help but smile as I turn away. For once I have the upper hand. “Madda might be a while. Do you want to come back later?”
“No,” she says. “I’ll wait here.”
“Fine. Just don’t touch anything.” Helen’s left a half-finished basket sitting beside the fireplace, so I pick it up and start weaving where she left off. Madda did say I could go home, but that was before Avalon arrived, and I’m pretty sure leaving Avalon here by herself isn’t a good idea.
“So,” Avalon says, nodding at the basket, “where’s Helen?”
“Don’t know,” I say as I join a new piece of cedar to the one Helen’s already worked. “At the orchard, I guess.”
“Really.” Avalon snickers. “You know about her, right?”
My breath sticks in my throat. “Know what?” I say as I force myself to keep weaving, even though every muscle
