There was a bitter taste at the back of Poppy’s throat and heat burned her cheeks. “What should I have done, Mack? If we’d done things your way, we would still be waiting at the Holly Oak! You know, it’s easy for you to say that we should play by the rules. It’s not your parents that are missing! It’s not you that spent your whole life trapped at the edge of Strange Hollow, between your own people and the Grimwood.”
They glared at each other across the distance, until Poppy began to feel sick again.
Mack’s voice was almost a whisper. “Fine. Learn the hard way. It’s obvious that nothing I say can stop you … but I choose the elven way—Do right, and you’ll be right. I promised Jute I would stay, and I will. I keep my promises. But our friendship—I don’t know if I can do it anymore, Poppy.” And with that, Mack turned and strode into the forest.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Poppy’s feet made no sound on the carpet of soft pine needles as she walked away. She needed a minute to compose herself. There was no way she was going to let Mack see her cry.
Sitting next to Poppy, Eta and Brutus were of two minds, with Eta leaning into Poppy, and Brutus staring toward where Mack had stopped, back turned, a distance away. Two let out a plaintive cry.
Mack’s words hurt, but at least it gave her something to focus on besides the guilt and dread that washed over her when he said she didn’t care—that she could learn the hard way. He was being unfair, and if she could be angry at him for it, then she didn’t have to think about what he said. She didn’t have to wonder if he was right. She didn’t have to consider whether it was even possible to find her parents … if they were even alive. She pushed every doubt to the side and focused on feeling the low, steady burn in her chest.
A small sniff from behind a tree told Poppy that Nula was back. Mack must have realized it too, because he straightened.
“Nula?” Poppy called.
“Yes?”
“Why are you hiding behind a tree?”
“Because you shouldn’t have to look at me. She said I’m—I’m nobody … nothing—no one wants me.”
“Come out. That’s not true,” Poppy said at the same time that Mack turned and said, “You’re someone.”
“We want you,” Poppy added gently, glancing at Mack.
The pooka sniffed. “You do?”
“The faeries have always thought they’re better than everyone else.” Mack rolled his eyes. “They can’t stand to think they’re just like the rest of us.”
“But they’re not,” Nula protested. “They’re so much … more.”
“Are not,” Poppy insisted.
“They’re not,” Mack agreed, and the kindness in his voice forced a lump into Poppy’s throat.
Nula’s tail swished like a pendulum from behind the tree. “But they’re so beautiful.”
“I don’t think so,” Poppy managed to say. “I think they’re creepy … with their streaky eyes, and those giant spiders spinning silk for them, are you kidding?”
Nula stepped out and cocked her head at Poppy and gave a small, watery laugh.
Mack gave Nula a gentle smile. “Beauty is what we do and who we are. Physical beauty is nothing compared to loyalty, and wit, and kindness.”
“I’m witty.” Nula sniffed again.
Mack laughed, and Poppy dropped her gaze to her boots, fighting tears. She’d never fought with Mack before—not like this. It was like bleeding—painful, and irritating, and messy all at once. You did promise, a voice in her head implored. Poppy felt the hurt in Mack’s gaze, but she kept her eyes on the ground.
“Agreed,” Poppy answered Nula at last, her throat tight. She gritted her teeth. It wasn’t fair for Mack to be angry at her. He wasn’t the one whose parents were trapped in some kind of soul catcher. What if she couldn’t get them back? He was supposed to be on her side.
Nula leaned against the tree. “Do you really believe that stuff … that stuff about beauty though?” Her cheeks were tearstained, bright tracks over her blue skin.
Mack moved to put one hand on Nula’s shoulder, and the anger rushed out of Poppy in an instant, leaving her hollow and tired. “When you get to know Mack better,” she said, “you’ll realize that he’s usually right.”
Nula must have heard the bite in her voice, because she shot a look at Mack, and then back to Poppy again.
“Are you two okay?” she asked.
Mack didn’t answer. Instead he looked up through the canopy. “The sun is setting. We need to make sure we’re safe for the night.”
Poppy shook her head. “We can’t stop for the night. We only have twenty-four hours to find the Valkyries and capture their song.”
“Right.” Mack’s shoulders tightened. “But walking through the Grimwood at night isn’t an option for us … which,” he added, “I’m sure the Faery Queen knew when she made that deal with you.”
Poppy swallowed.
“We’ll just have to make the best of it. And maybe we’ll get farther, faster if we get some rest. I’m going to get us some food. If I were you, I’d get out the salt and iron shavings, and make a circle big enough for all of us to sleep in.”
Poppy muttered about Mack being a know-it-all as she pulled the bag of shavings from her pack. Nula dragged over a big flat stone for a cook fire. After seeing the thorn trees spring up out of nowhere to douse the fires they’d escaped, it seemed wise to keep flames off the soil. Poppy sprinkled the coarse grains of salt, dappled with thin curls of iron in a huge circle around them. She enclosed a large ash tree to lean against, and made sure the circle was big enough for all of them to sit around the fire, and to take turns lying down.
Once the circle was finished, Poppy gathered windfall wood to get them through the night. Nula helped. The forest was peaceful. Spike frogs thrummed in the trees and along the riverbed, and
