Bones of Faerie (19 page)

“I was too late.” My voice was flat.

Kate pressed her lips together. “We were all too late, one way or another.” She pulled me into a swift hug, held Matthew a moment as well. “Seeing both of you back safely is already more than I'd hoped for. Now out of those clothes. The effects of radiation have a lot to do with the length of exposure, and your clothes can hold particles you can't see.”

“I'm always too late.” I didn't release Mom's hand.

“Liza.” The anger in Kate's voice startled me. “Don't you
dare
go blaming yourself for this.” She drew me roughly to my feet and turned me to face her. “This began before you were born. You did all anyone could expect and more. Now get out of those things. You can wash in the kitchen. I'll stay with your mother, and when you're through we'll wash her, too.”

I sighed, brushing a stray hair from Mom's face, even as Kate hugged Matthew again, then Allie. “I'm sorry,” I told Mom, then stood and followed Matthew and Allie from the room.

The well was working again. Allie and I filled buckets and carried them in. Outside the sun was low, and the chill air raised goose bumps beneath my wet sweater and jacket. Soon oaks and maples and sycamores would shiver with cold, shaking winter snows from their green leaves.

Matthew met us in the kitchen with soap and towels and changes of clothes from upstairs. I bent to pull off my boots, then hesitated. I glanced uncomfortably at Matthew. He glanced uncomfortably back, and his neck flushed red.

“Come on,” Allie said. She already had her jacket and boots off and was tugging on her socks.

“Um,” I said, even as I thought how I'd seen Matthew without clothes before, how it shouldn't matter.

“I'll go see if Gram needs any help,” Matthew said quickly. “I'll come back when you're through.”

Allie rolled her eyes as he left. “Boys are silly, you know that?”

I didn't answer.

We scrubbed down hard with the cold water, shivering all the while. It took both of us to wash Tallow. When we finished, the old cat shook herself and stalked indignantly away. We put our ash-coated clothes into a plastic bin and changed into clean ones. Matthew had also brought a blanket for a new sling. When I wrapped Rebecca in it she looked up at me and smiled, a quiet baby smile that was free of tears. My heart tightened in my chest. She would never be more than shadow.

Allie rolled her pants and sleeves up. Our feet were bare. We'd have to find or make new boots later. I hesitated, then hung Caleb's disk around my neck once more. Allie tried to braid her tangled hair, but quickly gave up and let it fall loose like mine.

“Maybe things will be all right after all,” she said hopefully, and followed me toward the kitchen doorway.

From the living room I heard Kate's voice.

“I've never wished so hard for a perfectly ordinary emergency room, or a phone that could dial nine-one-one. But I doubt even that would help her.” Kate sounded tired and old. “Truth is, Matthew, there's not much any of us can do. Keep her comfortable. Give her what we can for the pain.”

“Liza,” Allie breathed. She grabbed my hand so tightly my fingers hurt.

“Before it would have been different,” Kate said. “There was always something more we could try Before.”

My stomach knotted. I crept forward and peered through the doorway. Kate had propped Mom up on some pillows. The ash had been scrubbed from her skin, and beneath the blankets she wore only a loose nightshirt. Matthew slowly poured water from a cup down her throat. Mom didn't move, not even to take the cup from his hands.

“I can call her back.” My words were high and strange. “As often as I have to.”

“That won't make her well,” Allie said. She kept holding my hand.

I looked down at Rebecca. The baby breathed softly in her new sling, as if asleep. “I don't care. I'll do it anyway.”

Matthew looked up and saw us. He handed the cup to Kate and headed toward the kitchen, his shoulders hunched. He didn't speak as he walked past us toward the buckets and soap.

“I hate this,” Allie said. “Hate it, hate it, hate it!” And then, “I wish Caleb were here. He'd know what to
do. He'd know how to heal this, or whether it really was too late. He'd know.”

I bit back a sharp retort. I wished Caleb were here, too.

“How far apart do you think our towns are, Liza? Maybe we can get him. Maybe if we leave right away—”

“A day apart,” I said, remembering the map and thinking how we'd have to get there and back both.

“Oh,” Allie said in a small voice, and I knew that was too far. “It's not fair!” she shouted. Kate looked toward us. “I wish Caleb wasn't so far away. I wish you could just call and make him come!”

“Allie!” My heart started pounding. “Maybe I can.”

I bolted across the living room, knowing better than to hope, hoping anyway.

“What is it, child?” Kate asked, but I ran past her, to the mirror.

Swiftly I untied the sling and set it down beside me. In the glass my hair was streaked pale, but I didn't care. I grabbed Caleb's quarter in both hands as I looked into the mirror.
“Caleb!”
He was too far away to call by voice alone, but maybe in visions I could find him. Mom had seen me, after all, through glass and through water.

Maybe Caleb would see me, too. Maybe the time we saved, if he answered my call, would be enough.

The mirror turned to silver, my reflection fading into the brightness. I kept staring, kept calling until I saw—

Caleb and Karin walking through our ruined city, the Arch growing small behind them, grief clear enough on both their faces. Karin leaned on Caleb as if she'd been hurt, though there was no wound that I could see—

Caleb guiding Allie's hands over a goat's wounded leg. Allie laughing as the leg mended. Caleb smiling, a different smile than Before, older and sadder, for all that his face remained young—

I pushed through the visions. They were in the past, and I needed the present. “Caleb!”

Samuel and Caleb hunched over a late-afternoon fire. A small pot sat on the coals. Samuel stared silently into the distance, while Caleb's face was grim and hard as stone.

They weren't in Washville. Of course they weren't. They'd gone out looking for Allie.

“Caleb!”
I called, even as I wondered—why hadn't Father gone looking for me?

Caleb reached out to pour something into the pot.

His glance caught on its metal surface, and his hand froze in midair. He looked right at me and opened his mouth as if to speak—

I heard footsteps behind me. Caleb faded away, and in the bright mirror I saw—

Father approaching one slow step at a time. With a sick lurch I knew this was no vision. I watched him, knowing better, always knowing better than to run.

Father's hand came down on my shoulder. He turned me firmly about.

“Liza,” he said, and his voice was hard as metal that refused to give way, “where have you been?”

Chapter 16

W
ords froze in my throat as I stared up at my father. Maybe I needed only to explain. Maybe once he understood—

“Have you grown too stupid to speak?” Kate stood and moved to my side. “Let her be, Ian.” “Stay out of this. I asked my daughter a question.” “M-mom,” I managed to stammer. “Mom was ill. We found her, and we brought her here—”

Father slapped me. I staggered back. “I can see that much! Tell me how it happened. Tell me where you've both been.”

My throat tightened. I hated the way my words came out, my voice close to breaking. “I went looking for her
after she left.” That was close enough to truth. I didn't know whether he'd guessed at the magic in Kate's mirror—though surely he could see my hair if nothing else—but the rage in his face was enough to tell me I still didn't want to talk to him about magic, no matter whom it healed or failed to heal. “I went looking, and I found her, and I brought her home.” That much I'd done right, at least. I'd brought Mom home. Surely even Father could see that.

“She knew the rules,” he said. “You knew the rules. Why did you break them? Why did you venture out alone into the dark?”

Because I'd feared if I stayed, I'd do harm—but I knew that would be the wrong answer, too. Father drew his hand back again.

“Ian!” Kate stepped between us. “You leave her alone. You get out of my house.”

Father shoved her aside, his eyes never leaving me. Kate fell to the floor with a cry as Father grabbed my shoulders. “Answer me!” He started shaking me. From the corner of my eye I saw Allie grab a branch from the firewood pile, like a weapon. If I could have spoken at all, I'd have told her to run away. She was a stranger. He'd hurt her worse than he'd hurt me.

Father shook me harder, his face red with rage. My shoulders hurt, and my breath came out in gasps. I couldn't have answered him if I tried. I fell to my knees, and he reached for his belt.

Matthew stepped through the kitchen doorway, taking the room in at a glance. Fury darkened his features. Matthew never got angry, I thought numbly, but I knew better. He ran at Father, changing as he did, arms lengthening into legs, face into snout, fur flowing like melting silver over his skin. Even as Matthew leaped Father whirled around, throwing an arm in front of his throat, putting his body between me and the wolf.

Matthew sank his teeth into Father's arm. Father's face twisted in pain, but he held his ground, reaching for his knife with his free hand. Matthew's teeth sank deeper, snapping bone, drawing blood through Father's sleeve. I remembered Matthew's rage as he'd lain half-conscious under Caleb's care.
I'll tear him limb from limb.
Matthew would kill Father, I realized with a sick, cold feeling. I struggled to my feet.

Without warning Father threw his weight forward, knocking Matthew onto his back and shoving a knee into his chest. I heard ribs crack. Fur swiftly receded, leaving a human boy behind. Father didn't even hesitate,
he just drew his knife toward Matthew's throat. “At least Cam was too young to know better,” he growled.

“Father!”
I put all the command I could into that call. It was the same call I'd used to bring Allie back from the river, to bring Mom back from Faerie. “Father,
stop!”

His blade halted against Matthew's skin. Matthew glared at him, eyes hot with rage, a wolf's eyes still.

I didn't dare let my gaze, my command, waver. “Father, come here.”

Slowly, fighting the compulsion all the way, Father stood, grasping the knife in one hand. His other arm hung strangely at his side. Slower yet, he turned to face me. Clutching her branch uncertainly, Allie moved behind him. Tallow crouched behind Allie's legs, hissing.

“What witchery is this, Liza?”

“Give me the knife,”
I commanded, holding out my hand, calling the knife to me.

His arm trembled, but he reached forward and handed it to me. His eyes flicked to my hair as if seeing it—as if seeing me—for the first time. “Not you, Liza. This taint of magic cannot have touched you.”

I spoke slowly, holding my control, not trusting him. Had I ever trusted him? “Magic isn't what you think.” Treacherous hope rose in me. Maybe he truly didn't
understand, like I hadn't understood. “Magic doesn't always kill.”

Father's eyes didn't leave me. “What can you possibly understand about magic? You weren't there during the War. You have no idea what magic can do.”

I'd seen as much of the War as he had, now. And I did understand, maybe for the first time. “Magic is a tool, like a knife or a bow. We can learn how to wield it.” I thought of Cam, and I knew no tool is ever fully safe, but we could learn to use this one. We had to learn, if we were going to survive.

Father spat, and I knew doing even that much while I held him took great effort. His knife felt heavy in my hand. “That's your mother talking, Liza, not you. I should have known your mother was magic-cursed the moment she came to this town, knowing no one, playing at innocence. But she had me fooled well enough, right until she bore that monster. Then I knew. She knew, too, or else why would she have gone? She should have done us a favor and gone sooner.”