Bones of Faerie

“I only hope we're in time. I am called Karin, by the way. And you are?”

“Liza.”

The night deepened around us, but the trees kept their distance. At last the path left the forest and came to a hedge, where hawthorn and ivy and briars were all woven together into a wall. Karin reached for the green leaves, and for a moment vines seemed to twine lovingly around her hands. I backed away, fearing those vines would consume us, but Karin showed no fear. “These two humans are Matthew and Liza. I ask you to grant them safe passage.” She glanced down at Tallow and smiled a little. “Them and their feline companion.”

The greenery rustled and parted, forming an archway. “Walk quickly,” Karin said.

The hedge could have swallowed us whole. “Wait!” I looked wildly around. A shadow—the shadow I'd seen in the mulberry grove—flowed from forest to path, moving toward us.

Karin didn't seem to notice. She was already on her way through, taking Matthew with her. I had no choice— ignoring the shadow, ignoring the chill seeping into the air, I closed my eyes and plunged after her.

I heard voices on the other side and saw figures rushing forward. The pain in my back and legs turned hotter. I stumbled. Someone caught me, and all the world went dark.

Chapter 6

I knelt on a moonlit hillside, sifting shards of jagged bone through my hands. I knew I didn't belong here, but still I searched, knowing there was someone, something I needed to find before I could go.

A shadow rose from the fragments. Shadow hands reached toward me, and I reached back, but then howls cut through the night.

The shadow melted into earth as a creature trotted toward me, larger than a dog, teeth gleaming. “Liza,” the wolf said, and its voice was a human voice, its eyes human eyes. As the wolf met my gaze I turned away. It loped on, disappearing into the dark.

Out of the night a voice called, “Lizzy, my baby, my girl—” I stumbled to my feet and chased after the sound, knowing that if only I could catch it all would be well, night forgotten, shadows forced to flee. I ran until my legs cramped and my knees gave way. I fell then, and bark rose up to catch me. I tried to cry out, but wood clogged my throat and sealed my lips. It forced its way past skin and bone, through ears and eyes and heart —

I woke and bolted upright, screaming. Dream fragments fled like sparks from a blacksmith's forge. I was sitting on a feather mattress in a wooden frame, surrounded by white walls and dark windows. A small lamp burned on a dresser nearby. Someone had pulled off my boots, and bruises the color of mulberry juice stained my swollen feet and ankles. My sweater was covered with dried blood.

The latch clicked in the door. A woman with wild silver eyes stepped into the room, braided hair clear as glass falling down her back.

I swallowed my screams as I stared at her. Was this what my sister would have grown to, had she lived?

The woman looked back at me. “Caleb said we should expect you to wake soon.”

I knew her voice. “Karin?” She'd looked so different in the dark. I hadn't realized magic was rooted in her so deeply. Yet you didn't speak to trees without magic— or if you did, the trees didn't listen. I'd been too hurt, too scared, to think it through.

“Yes, of course.” Karin stepped forward and offered me a mug filled with dark liquid. “Here, this will help with the pain.”

I just kept staring. She was too old to have been born with magic, like Rebecca. Trees have always listened to me, since I was a child. Had magic found her later, the way it had found Cam?

I hadn't known there was magic that could make a tree release its hold. Matthew had known, though. He'd said magic didn't have to kill.

“Matthew.” I looked around the room. He wasn't there. I shoved the mug aside and tried to stand.

Daggers of heat stabbed through my back. My knees gave way. I reached upward, like a swimmer struggling through deep water, but darkness found me once more.

This time I dreamed only of silver light. Light flowed around me, over me. Slow at first, hesitant, then stronger, like a gathering wave. I threw my arms up against this new magic, trying to protect myself, but instead of pain or heat I felt only cool, cool healing.

*   *   *

When I woke again, Tallow lay purring on my chest.

I opened my eyes and saw a girl, maybe ten or so, red hair pulled back into a tangled ponytail. She scratched the old cat behind the ears, and Tallow bent her head this way and that in response.

“You're awake!” the girl said, then pulled her hand guiltily back. “Sorry. Dad said I should ask before I pet your cat. But you don't mind, do you?”

“Not if she doesn't.” I nudged Tallow aside and sat up, expecting pain. Tallow leaped to the floor.

My back didn't hurt, and neither did anything else. I stretched, knowing I couldn't possibly have healed that fast, not unless I'd slept for weeks and weeks. The girl smiled. “I don't have a cat. I have two goats, but that's not the same thing.”

I stood. The wood floor creaked beneath my feet. My legs trembled, then steadied. Still I felt no pain. Even the blisters on my fingers were gone.

“Hey, you really are better!” The girl's smile turned to a grin. “I told them so! I told them I was old enough to help, and not just with little stuff like bumped toes or scraped knees. They didn't believe me, though, not until they had no choice. Wait here—I'm supposed to tell Dad and Caleb as soon as you wake. What's your cat's name?”

“Tallow.”

“Tallow's a good name. I'll be back.”

I heard her footsteps clomping through the hall, then back again and down the stairs. Tallow leaped from floor to dresser, from dresser to window. She stretched out on the sill and closed her eyes, morning sun bright on her fur.

It had been night when we came here. Night when Matthew—

I went very quiet, listening. I heard a few birds outside the window as well as movement down the hall. The bruises on my ankles were gone, and someone had replaced my torn clothes with a soft wool nightgown. From downstairs I heard someone—the girl—talking to herself as she moved about.

I left the room and crept down the hall. The floor sighed beneath my feet.

Through an open doorway I saw Matthew lying motionless in another bed, his skin dull and gray. A man bent over him. He had clear hair like Karin's, only it hung loose to his shoulders. I felt a shiver of familiarity without knowing why. A second man with ordinary reddish-brown hair stood by his side, watching him.

The first man pressed his hands to Matthew's bare chest. Matthew's eyes went wide. He opened his mouth as if to scream, but only a strangled whine came out. The stranger pressed harder, lips moving to words I couldn't hear, silver light flowing from his hands.

I forced myself not to cry out. Matthew arched his back, and I knew he was in pain. I reached for my knife before realizing I didn't have it. Instead I entered the room, quiet like Father had taught me, scanning the floor and dresser for something to use as a weapon.

The red-haired man looked up, and his eyes locked on mine. I froze in place as he crossed the room. “Don't,” he whispered. “If you interfere with Caleb's healing you could kill them both.”

Healing? That didn't look like healing. But I waited as the man gave me an apologetic smile. “I'm Samuel,” he said, still whispering. “And I understand you're Liza.”

I nodded, my eyes not leaving Matthew. He fell limp in the bed, eyes shut, chest moving uneasily up and down. Pale-haired Caleb collapsed into a chair, watching me through half-lidded eyes—with suspicion or curiosity, I couldn't tell.

“Come,” Samuel said. “It's safe now.” I went to Matthew's side, even as Samuel laid a hand on Caleb's