There, I said it. Voiced my worst fear, that Harper or Thatcher would be kidnapped by Doug or one of the Fae working for Meribah.
“I have to go, Wes. I have to go to the farm and see them for myself.”
“I’m coming too, Calliope. I’ll meet you there.”
The pouch. “Wes, wait. I forgot to check for Tanner’s pouch before I left. Can you go to my bedroom and see if it’s in the pile of clothes on my desk chair?”
I was fairly certain I had pulled it over my head when I took off my sleeping T-shirt. Forehead resting on my arm, I drummed my fingers on my dashboard, counted my breaths, and tried to come up with a safe place to stash the pouch.
“Found it. Right where you said it was. Do you want me to bring it with me?”
“There’s a pile of ribbons on my bureau. Tuck it under there. I know it’s messy but…”
“Done. I’m on my way.” Wes hung up, and I started my car.
Nothing, absolutely nothing compared to the feeling in your gut when you’re in a stupid tiny car, forced to drive slow because of gawking tourists, speed limits, an in-bred deer population, and hairpin turns. Gripping the steering wheel, I kept my gaze to the road and hollered behind closed windows for humans and deer to get out of my way.
Harper and Thatch liked to stop at one of two roadside bakeries on the way to the farm. I even knew which treat they would pick up for a long day of harvesting vegetables under the sun: Nanaimo bars. They would stick their desserts in the fridge in the barn and split one bar at each of their two breaks. I knew this because they would still be fighting about who got the bigger half as they walked in the front door after work.
I tore through the open gate at the first bakery, left my car idling, and smacked the screen door open. “Gail, did Harper and Thatcher stop in this morning?”
“No, not that I know of, why?”
“Just…nothing,” I said, flopping my hand in her direction and tearing back to my car. The next section of road was flat and all curves, with family farms and orchards to both sides, which meant I had to be on the lookout for tractors pulling out and sheep and chickens and—
There! Harper’s Jeep, parked in the near corner of the small lot fronting the second bakery.
I almost cried with relief. I parked perpendicular to the back of the vehicle and ran to the bakery.
The gangly teen behind the counter was a friend of Thatcher’s, and for the life of me I could not remember his name.
“Hey, was Thatch here?” I asked.
“He was, but he didn’t come in.” The kid lifted his arm and pointed past me, to the big glass window. “I saw him and Harp pull in. Their dad pulled in behind them, kinda like what you did.”
“Then what?” I asked, digging my nails into my palms. Talk faster, talk faster.
He lifted his bony shoulders. “They all got into the Japanese mini-truck their dad was driving and left. I think he was pissed. They almost hit another car on the way out.”
“Do you remember which way they went?”
Tall and skinny leaned his head to the side. “South. And the truck was white, like all of ‘em.”
Tears blurred my eyes as I trotted to my car. This could not be happening, not after Christoph promised they would be safe.
Fuck.
Wes pulled in and parked at a haphazard angle, worse than mine. Slamming his door behind him, he asked, “They got them, didn’t they?”
I could only nod and point to the Jeep. The windows next to the front seats were down, two painfully familiar backpacks still in the back seat and both cellphones connected to the charger. I jogged around the car, not knowing what I was looking for, when Wes called out.
“Calli, c’mere.” He crouched near a back tire and pointed. “Look. The leather bands we made. Cut off. Same with their amulets. And the portal stones are crushed.” He squinted up at me. “Either whoever took the boys sliced off the bands, or your sons left them deliberately.”
“If Harp and Thatch cut them off, what does that mean? Why would they do that? They could have used the stones to get home.”
“And whoever took the boys could use the stones to bypass the wards and get to your house.” Wes poked through the broken bits with the tip of his knife then lifted the leather strips.
“It was Doug,” I said. “Doug took them. The kid in there said he saw their father pull up, argue with the boys, and then they all drove away in the same white truck.” I spun around, surveying the packed dirt of the parking area. “What the hell do I do now?”
Wes had the Jeep’s driver’s side door open. “Let’s take their things and leave a note. I’ll tell the kid in there you had a family emergency and ask if we can leave the Jeep here.”
“Okay,” I said, nodding and jangling my keychain. “I’ve got a spare key. And I need a minute to think.”
Chapter 19
Standing still might work for meditation, but it sure as shit wasn’t working for problem-solving of this magnitude. Wes jogged back to me.
“Can you call Rowan?” I asked. “I don’t think there’s anything she can do, but—”
“Already done. I’m calling the Pearmain house now.” Wes had his phone to his ear.
I mimed him hanging up. “Before you do that, can you call Ro again? Ask her if Lolly Brooks is human or Magical.”
“Lolly who?” he asked, stepping into the shaded side of the car and tapping his phone.
“Brooks. Lolly Brooks. Her family owns the farm where Harper and Thatcher work, and she’s a patient of
