I bent at the waist and rubbed my hands over cold wet wool and invoked the water elements—the kelp and the seal. “Mama, Papa, I need you.”
Standing straight, I ran my hands up and down the center of my torso and whispered to my friends waiting on the far shore, “Ivy wind and ivy bind. I am ready for your help.” The vines were a sure bet. Standing on a narrow island, at night, with no means of communicating with humans other than wholly useless yelling, I chose the elements that made the most sense. Denizens of the water and minders of the earth.
Though I had never called on the vines hiding throughout the clusters of trees on this hunk of rock, they already acknowledged my presence. I knew they would answer my call. And when a snake-like thing approached the island from the water and tapped at my ankle, I understood the vines had come up with a solution.
Basket. Throne. Pull.
I lifted my face and laughed along with the stars. Odilon had thought to strand me.
The slender bit of vine tapping at my ankle circled up my calf and the front of my thigh and burst into a leafy greeting when it reached my cheek. “Keep your thorns in,” I remonstrated gently, stroking the surface of the newly unfurled greenery.
The island’s vines conferred in hushed consultation. An eruption of sound had me pivoting at the water’s edge. I tried to run, but the vine that had wended its way across the channel wasn’t letting me go. Together, we watched the other vines weave themselves into a basket shape big enough to accommodate me and, with a loud series of rips and pops, uproot the base of each section from the soil.
The basket was finished. I was moored in place.
“I think they need your help,” I said, sliding a finger between my skin and the possessive little leaves. The vine holding me in place slithered down my body, let go of my leg, and whipped up the beach. Droplets of salt water hit my skin until the vine stopped, wrapped itself once around the basket, and drew the rescue craft past me and into the water.
I picked up the plastic bag holding my belongings and made my way across the glowing white midden to the waiting vessel. In the dark waters beyond, inky black heads broke the surface. My aquatic escorts had arrived. I secured the bag between my teeth, gripped the edge of the basket, and muttered, “Here goes nothing.” Flinging one leg over, I felt for the bottom of the basket with my foot and shifted all of my weight.
While trying to not tip the entire thing over, I heard a rippling sound from the water and the basket lifted slightly. With the plastic bag still between my teeth, I glanced over the side to see a massive raft of kelp weaving into a pontoon. I grabbed hold of the vine that had come from the opposite shore. “I’m ready.”
I had to drop the plastic bag between my knees. The shoes might get wet and ruined, but I’d never ridden in a custom-made water chariot and I was secretly thrilled. Not only had I called the elements to me using the spells embroidered into my dress, but it looked like I would arrive home intact and with enough time to plan Benôit’s rescue.
Rain started to fall at the midway point between the island and the nearest shore. Though the wool offered protection and the basket began to pick up speed, every inch of bared skin was pebbled with goosebumps. Nearing shore, the basket slowed and sank lower in the water. Loud splashes announced the departure of the seals and the smell of low tide greeted my nostrils. My faithful invasives, tugging me and the basket across a short stretch of muck, finished their task with a sudden stop. We’d hit the end of a rotted boat ramp.
I reached for the splintered wood, grabbed the plastic bag, and planted one knee on the closest plank. “Thank you,” I said, patting the rim of the basket as I disembarked, unsure what else I should do. The tip of the vine, leaves intact, wrapped itself around my wrist and pulled.
The worn and rickety ramp led from the beach to a cottage. The windows were darkened and there were no cars in the driveway, but once I got to the street I knew exactly where I was. I unwound the vine and set it on the ground.
Ivy tired.
Calliope tired, too, I answered wordlessly, grinning. Not only was I wearing a sentient dress, but my vines were developing a bigger vocabulary and a sense of humor. Waving goodbye, I headed to the road that would take me toward Long Harbor and the ferry terminal. I could call for a ride from there.
Tanner picked me up in his truck, scattering rocks as he roared into the deserted parking lot. He’d brought a blanket and wrapped me tight before buckling me in. Eyes gold, mouth pinched, and rocking a fisherman’s knit sweater, he asked, “Are you okay?”
I nodded, teeth chattering and shivers coursing through my limbs. “Need heat,” I said.
He got me home in near record time. The only way I could have gotten there faster was by ambulance—or if Christoph had flown me in. I stumbled to the house, every step reminding me I had new cuts on my feet. Lights blazed from the kitchen and living rooms. Rowan waited at the door. She followed me down the hall and took over.
“I might be getting a little shocky,” I said, unable to keep my teeth from knocking together.
“Tub. Now.”
I dropped the blanket and stepped into the tub, still dressed. Ro got the
