For Your Heart (Hill Dweller Retellings) (34 page)

    
Tamrin’s fingers slip under the hair at the back of my neck.  “In my mind, you’re mine and you’ve always been.  If I need to proclaim it to God, then I’ll do so.  If I need to sign a foolish human piece of paper, I’ll do so.”  His eyes slide up and fix on mine again.  “Either way, I’m not letting you go, Jean.  Not again.  Not ever.”

    
Meant to be…But it can’t be if we don’t overcome the obstacles.  And there’s a really big one right in front of us.  “What about Roxel?  What about the tithe?”

    
Tamrin’s lips purse, I think he forgot about that in all the excitement.  But I haven’t.  How could I?  For all of Tamrin’s beautiful proclamations of love and marriage, we won’t have either if Roxel kills him.   Finally, he says, “I’m not letting her take me from you again.”

    
I nod, closing the subject.  “Right, so what do we do?”

    
Tamrin stares at the ground between us.  “I know someone who might help us.”

Jeanette

     Later that day at lunch, Celeste is playing bruised and wounded because we bailed on hot chocolate.  Amber sits with her, trying to be that friend she promised to be, while I sit with Emily.

    
“So, what did your Dad say?” she asks.

    
I poke at my chicken patty.  “I haven’t told him yet.”

    
Sighing, she puts down her sandwich and gives me
the look
from over the top of her glasses.  “You know it’s not going to get any easier the longer you wait.”

    
“I know.”

    
She takes a bite of turkey and cheese on rye and talks around it.  “Come on, Nett.  You’re dad’s a pretty cool guy.  I bet he won’t be as upset as you think.”

    
I frown.  “I dunno…”  And then I just jump right into confessing.  “I saw Tam this morning.”

    
She nearly chokes on her food.  …I should really stop dropping bombs on her when she’s eating.  Coughing, she takes a sip of her iced tea and pounds her chest.  “What?” she croaks.  “I thought you were totally against that?”

    
I shrug.

    
“How?  You knew where he was?”

    
Letting out an even breath, I crush a chickpea with my fork.  Honesty is the best policy, right?  “Em.  I haven’t exactly been one hundred and ten percent honest with you.”

    
She doesn’t answer, just takes another swig of iced tea, her eyes expectant.

    
I look down.  “You know how we always used to talk about how cool it would be if faeries existed?”

Thank heavens for Emily – who, more than me, is the kind of girl who wants to believe so much that she already sort of does believe and doesn’t need much convincing.  And even if she doesn’t believe you, she’s just awesome enough a person that she’ll give you the benefit of the doubt or humor your craziness.  She takes the whole truth in stride, something that I was pretty certain she’d do.

    
“Can they, like, go invisible and stuff?” Em demands, her voice animated.

    
I pause in eating my pudding.  “I dunno.  I didn’t think to ask.”

    
“What?!” she yelps.  “How can you not ask everything there is to know?”

    
I try to smile.  “Well, I was kind of skeptical at first.  I thought I was crazy then I thought he was the nut job.  And then he was all I wanna kill you and then he’s all I want in your pants.  And I think I must have forgotten somewhere between trying to cope with the reincarnation of the Red Queen and my best friend coming back from the dead.”

    
“But he wasn’t dead,” she reasons.

    
I roll my eyes.

    
“You always knew he was still alive and you always knew he got snatched by something crazy weird.  And I think your reluctance to date other guys was because, deep in your heart, you never gave up that he’d come back.  And he totally did.”

    
I bite my lips and look down.  My voice comes out husky.  “Yeah.”

    
She pulls at her earlobe.  “That’s like sickeningly romantic.  And holy cow, now you’re gonna have his baby!” she squeals.

    
Shushing her, I check to see if anyone heard.  “Be serious, Em.  If I don’t get him back from Roxel then there is no happily ever after.  How am I going to explain to my kid they don’t have a father because an evil faerie queen sacrificed him to Hell?”

    
“Oh, right.”  She takes the final sip from her iced tea, making the straw choke and gargle in the juice box.  “She’s a bitch.”

    
I scoff.  “Yeah.”

    
“Like worse than Celeste.”

    
I glance across the cafeteria.  Amber’s mopping tears off of Celeste’s cheeks.  I don’t think Celeste and Roxel are anything alike.

    
“I wonder who’d win in a fight…”

    
“Em!”  I huff, exasperated, but grinning a little bit ‘cause one does have to wonder…

    
She straightens and puts down her empty juice-box.  “So, why’d you tell me?  Obviously this is a big secret.  You must have a reason for telling me.  You need me to poison the Summer Queen or something?”

    
I laugh at her.  It’s hard to take anything seriously when she says things like that.  I shake my head.  “Actually, I just need you to drive me somewhere.”

    
She wrinkles her nose.  “That’s it?”

    
I shrug.  “’Fraid so.”

    
She picks up her juice box and puts the straw back in her mouth, sucks again, but nothing but air comes up, making another gurgly noise.  She pulls it away.  “Bummer.”

Jeanette

    
Emily pulls her sky-blue Prius into a white-pebble driveway – just behind a massive candy-apple Dodge pickup.  She glances out the window, taking in the huge brick-red barn and the small white farmhouse.  “Are you sure this is the right place?”

    
I reach for the door-handle.  “We’ve been up and down the road twice.  This is the only farm on Knock Way, right?”  I push the door open and get out. 

    
Emily follows.  “And you’re sure this is the address Tamrin gave you?  I mean, he’s not exactly a human anymore, maybe he’s confused?  This definitely doesn’t look like a place where you’ll be able to find someone who can help you.  I mean, where does he keep the Panzer tanks?”

    
I glance over my shoulder.  “I trust what he tells me.  Now be polite and let me do the talking.”

    
“That’s fine,” she mutters as we go around to the front of the house.  “I didn’t bring my elvish dictionary anyway.”

    
Giggling, I knock on the door and wait.  When it finally opens, she and I both take an involuntary step back because the guy on the other side of the door looks none-too-happy to see us.  Deep brown eyes dart back and forth between the two of us and he lifts an unshaven chin, making his longish mess of dark hair fall back from a surprisingly handsome face.  “Yeah?”

    
I open my mouth to speak, but don’t really know what to say.  I hadn’t thought that far.

    
“Who is it, Con?”  An elderly lady with a Scottish accent asks as she all but runs him over with a wheel chair.  “Is it those Jehovah Witnesses again?”

    
He steps out of the way, holding the door open so she can see us.  Steely blue eyes examine us from beyond silver rimmed glasses.  She folds her arms over a woolen tartan blanket. “Well, we’re certainly attracting quite a few young ladies lately.”  She glances pointedly at the tall grumpy guy standing next to her then back at us.  “I’m sorry but if you lassies are looking for Lacey she’s not about.”

    
She begins backing away from the door and the Con guy moves to shut it, but I find my voice.  “Actually,” I blurt, making both of them go still, “Tamrin sent me.”

    
Con guy looks over his shoulder, frowns at me.  “Tamrin?”

    
I nod and then try to explain myself.  “Look, I know it’s kind of weird that I’m here, but he sent me to find you.”  I look specifically at the guy because I’m assuming he’s the Connor that Tamrin told me about.  “He’s in trouble and we need your help.  He says you can show me where to find the Mushroom Woman.”

    
“Hush!”  The old woman snaps, she wheels around and glances about, as if searching for someone that might have heard me.  I look too, uncertain of what I’ve done wrong.  As I’m peeking over my shoulder, the woman’s strong grip finds my wrist and drags me into her house.

    
“Come inside, lassy.” She continues to drag me across her dining room.

    
“But, Mara-” the boy argues.

    
“Shut up, Connor, can’t ye see the girl’s in a bind?  Let the other one in.”

    
He makes a growling noise in his throat, but I hear the door squeak open further.  “Come on,” he gruffs.

    
Emily’s oxfords tiptoe in and she follows us into a bright, warm kitchen that reminds me of a typical old lady kitchen.  Copper pots, lacey curtains, floral table cloth, bright china plates hanging on the wall, various containers of baked goods and ingredients on the counters, everything is meticulously clean.

    
“Sit.” The woman, Mara I assume, practically throws me down in a chair.  “Con, put the kettle on.”

    
Con shoots a
why me
look up to the ceiling, but does as he’s told.  Mara motions for Emily to sit as well and she does, looking wide eyed like maybe we’re being fattened up for the slaughter. 

    
“Now,” Mara says, shifting in her wheel chair.  “Explain to me again who you are and your relationship with Tamrin.”

    
“My name is Jeanette Sauderheim.  Tam’s uh,” I crease my brow.  “Well, I guess he’s my…fiancée.  Sort of.”

    
Connor snorts and puts a teacup down on the counter.  “Tamrin?  Getting married?”

    
I shrug.  “It’s a long story.”

    
Mara sits back in her wheelchair and gives me a level stare.  “I think it’s best you explain everything because the Tamrin we know isn’t the type to have a wife or find himself in a bind to necessitate
the witch
.”  She says the witch, like it’s something poisonous and I assume she means the Mushroom Woman.

    
I take a deep breath and explain everything to the best of my ability. 

“You see,” picking at the ribbon still tied around my wrist, “Tamrin is really Timmy and Queen Roxel is going to sacrifice him as this tithe thing.”  I look up, meeting Mara’s eyes and then Con’s.  My hand goes unconsciously to my stomach.  “I have to save him.”

    
Mara purses her lips and swirls the dregs of her tea in her cup before setting it on a delicate saucer with a dull
click
.  She doesn’t look up as she says, “The Mushroom Woman is a very powerful witch and she may be able to help you, but she doesn’t work without a price.  More often than not, you’ll find you may not like the price you must pay for her services.”

    
I shake my head.  “I don’t know what else to do.  Do you know another way to save him?”

    
The skin around Mara’s lips and eyes puckers as she looks thoughtful, she glances at Con, who’s leaning against the counter looking like a pissed off bouncer.  His eyes meet hers for a long time, then he unfolds his arms, braces them against the counter, and shakes his head.

    
Mara turns to me.  “No, we don’t.  Though, we would most certainly like to know what you do find out.  That will be Connor’s price for taking you to her.”

    
I lift my chin and look at Connor.  Tamrin has told me about him in passing, though he’s not at all what I expected.  For some reason, I was thinking of some kind of fop, not this southern grunge dude who looks like he eats steel for breakfast.

    
“What do we have to do?”  Emily asks, directing my attention away from Connor.  She looks determined and I’m glad she came with me.  Even if she hasn’t said much and is obviously out of her element, it’s good to have her for moral support.

    
Mara reaches out and pats Emily’s hand.  “You’ll do nothing, dear.  This is an endeavor for your friend only.”

    
Emily’s face contorts into one of those “give me a break” expressions.  “You’re joking right?  I’m not letting her go off alone with Rambo over there.”  She points at Con.  “He’ll rip her to shreds!”