My hand clenched the dead stone. How could I refuse Mom, after all she’d been through?
How could she ask such things of me, after all
I felt my way down the dark hall to my room. I pulled the coverings off my bedroom windows and took two nightgowns from my dresser, one for me and one for Mom. They smelled faintly of smoke, but there was no helping that. I added clean sweaters, pants, underwear, and socks to the pile. I went back downstairs, pulled on my hat and scarf and gloves, and headed to Kate’s.
The path through town was silent now, with just a few faint stars piercing the clouds. Lantern light spilled out around the shutters of the houses and made their tacked nylon glow.
“Sorry about your house, Liza.”
I dropped the clothes and spun around, only to find Kyle’s brother, Johnny, standing right behind me. He laughed. At fourteen he had a wiry build that made him look taller than he was, along with the wispy beginnings of something no one but him called a mustache on his upper lip.
I hadn’t heard him coming. I never did. “Don’t
Johnny shrugged. His magic was stalking, meaning he was the only human I knew who walked as silently as faerie folk did.
“Don’t go spooking the caller, Johnny.” Hope’s steps crunched toward us through the snow. “That can get you in all sorts of trouble. Almost as much trouble as spooking
Johnny slouched down in his fur-lined denim jacket. “I’m not afraid of a little wind.”
“You should be.” Hope helped me pick up the dropped clothes. She sniffed at a sleeve. “We’ll find better for you and your mom,” she said to me.
“I don’t mind.” As I folded the clothes, Johnny disappeared the way he’d come, without a sound.
“Everyone else will, if you walk around smelling like this.” Hope laughed, and acorns clattered around her face. “Seriously, it isn’t any trouble. I was already planning to come by later to check on the firestarter.” She walked with me halfway to Kate’s house before peeling off for her own.
Johnny appeared again at my elbow. “I really am sorry about the fire.”
I flinched but kept walking, as if I’d known he was there all along. Johnny stopped to scratch at the leg of his pants.
As far as I could tell, Johnny didn’t follow me any farther. I glanced into Kate’s backyard as I neared her house. Light glowed from within the shed, and tools and scraps of wood and metal lay on a tarp beside it. They must have already gotten Ethan inside.
I’d head out there soon, too, but first I crossed Kate’s front porch and entered the warmth of her living room. I set the damp clothes down near the fireplace, where a pot of water boiled above the coals. Kate’s walls were covered with bright wall hangings; I glanced at the one that hid her mirror. Most mirrors had been destroyed during the War, out of fear that the faerie folk could step through them into our world, but this one was a family heirloom, so Kate had secretly kept it. No faerie folk had found their way through the silvered glass, but I had used the mirror to bring Mom home from Faerie.
I heard voices from Kate’s kitchen.
“What he really needs is a burn clinic,” Kate said. Adults were always wishing for medicines and facilities from Before. The way they talked, it used to be that any hurt could be cured, no matter how severe.
“Well, we don’t have one.” Matthew’s voice was quieter—angrier. “That’s why I have to go.”
I put my hat and gloves in my pockets and joined them. “Go where?” Matthew and I drew each other into a quick hug. He smelled of smoke, too.
“To Caleb and Karin’s town,” he said as we drew apart. “Ethan—it’s bad.”
Kate drew a jar from a cabinet. Ground valerian root—it was a sedative, used when pain became too much to bear. “Bad enough I was debating between this and something rather more deadly,” she said.
“If Caleb can heal him, it won’t come to that,” Matthew told her. As far as I could tell, Caleb’s healing magic was as powerful as anything from Before.
I tried to picture Caleb controlling Mom’s thoughts. He’d risked so much for her—if not for my vision, I might not have believed it, even now, though I knew he was as capable as anyone of pushing too far.
Matthew and I followed Kate to the fireplace, where she sprinkled the valerian root into the pot. I wrinkled my nose as its sweaty-sock smell filled the air. Kate said herbs hadn’t worked nearly as well Before as now. I wondered if that meant they’d at least smelled better then.
Strands of soot-smudged hair fell into Matthew’s face. “Three days isn’t much time. If we can’t stop the Council from sending Ethan away, he’ll die out there. If Caleb can’t come, maybe Allie can.” As Caleb’s student, Allie didn’t know as much about healing as Caleb, but she still could do more than any of us.
My hands and sleeves were streaked with ash. “I thought you didn’t intend to let the Council send Ethan away.”
“Even if we stop the Council, he’ll probably die as he is now,” Matthew said. “I can’t let that happen, not when I have another choice.”
Kate stared into the boiling water. “At least wait until morning.”
I thought of Ethan’s blackened skin. I wasn’t sure a burn like that
Downy gray wolf fur shadowed the backs of Matthew’s hands, a sign he was uneasy. “I’ll go faster alone. It would take us all night to reach Caleb’s town on foot, but as a wolf I can get there in a couple hours if I run. If Caleb’s willing, he could be back here by morning.”
“I don’t like it,” Kate said.
I didn’t like it, either. “If anyone should take risks for Ethan, it should be me,” I said. Matthew had warned me not to push the firestarter too far.
“But I’m the one best able to do something about it this time.” Matthew rubbed the scar on his wrist. “You’re not the only one who can save people, Liza.”
“I never said—” The words caught in my throat. I’d spent enough time patrolling with Matthew to know he could manage a couple of hours alone in the winter forest well enough. Unless he ran into owls, or wild dogs—I swallowed a nervous laugh. If anyone could handle wild dogs, it was Matthew. “If you’re not back by first light, I’ll come after you.”
“I’ll be back before dawn,” Matthew promised. “I’ll run ahead of Caleb and Allie whatever they say, so that you’ll know whether to expect them.”
“I’ve trusted you before to know where you were needed and to take no more risk than you had to.” Kate filled a mug from the pot as she spoke. “I’ll have to trust to it now, too, however much I might wish things otherwise. Come. Let’s check on Ethan—and tell Tara—before you go.”
Matthew shook his head. “Tara will try to stop me. You know that.”
Kate drew the mug close, as if for warmth. “I do know. Perhaps I was hoping for it, and that isn’t fair of me, is it?” She set the mug down, brushed a few wisps of gray from her face, and hugged him. “It’s nearly spring. Keep an eye out for crocuses. Let me know if you spot any.”
“I’ll be careful.” Matthew knew as well as I the danger crocuses held. Until this year, they’d grown even in winter, burning through leather and wool and the skin of those unfortunate enough to miss them hiding beneath the snow. He pulled away from his grandmother and grabbed my hands. I squeezed them hard. As I looked into his gray eyes, it was all I could do not to pull him closer. I feared if I did, I wouldn’t let go and Matthew would lose more time. Besides, Kate stood right beside us, and what if I didn’t stop at holding?
Matthew laughed softly. “Nothing to pack—I couldn’t carry it anyway.” He released my hands to step back, and silver light flowed over him. Skin stretched and changed, arms and legs and body all giving up their shape, as if the form Matthew had worn all his life were illusion, nothing more. He fell to all fours, skin shifting to silver-gray fur, hands and feet to paws with dark pads. Dark markings emerged around his eyes and muzzle and ears. Those ears
