The Blue Woods (13 page)

“In addition,” Nerina said, drawing our attention back to her, “the Tibetan site is the only site that has always—
always
—been under Malandanti control.”

Cal drew his legs in. “That just seems so at odds. I mean, Buddhist monks and the Malandanti? They seem like very strange bedfellows.”

The corner of Nerina's mouth twisted. “It isn't the Buddhist monks who are in bed with the Malandanti. The Mongols and the Chinese have been fighting over it for centuries. And do you know what year the People's Republic of China invaded Tibet?”

“Nineteen fifty,” Cal supplied as if he was reciting an answer to an SAT question.

“Correct,” Nerina said. “One year after the Guild incorporated itself.”

“They took advantage of a precarious political situation,” Jeff added. “Installed a government that is under Malandanti control.”

“And it's the people who suffer,” said Heath. “The Tibetans are some of the most oppressed people in the world.” He looked out the window, where the sky was beginning to lighten. “I've been there. It
is
at odds with itself. So beautiful and yet so sad.”

I stared at Heath. He'd never told me he'd been to Tibet. Had he gone on a Benandanti mission? Or during his wanderlust days?

“In any case, it makes sense that the failsafe is originating there,” Nerina said. “Seeing as it's a Malandanti stronghold. We still have the book of the Tibetan magic,” she continued, nodding at Bree, “so we'll start our research there.”

“I want to help,” said Cal.

“You can,” Nerina said, “by training with Alessia. That is your job right now.”

“But . . .” Cal glanced at Bree. It was so obvious, I almost laughed. “Part of my training is learning about the different sites, right? Plus, we just got back from the Waterfall. We won't be going back out until tomorrow.”

“Don't you have school?” Bree asked.

Cal shrugged. “I'm already accepted to—”

“Yale.” Bree rolled her eyes. “
We know
.”

“So what are they going to do to me if I don't show up?”

“Call your mom. Give you detention. Expel you. Failure to graduate will cancel that early acceptance to Yale right out.” Bree got to her feet. “But, sure, if you're willing to risk all that, I could use the help.” She stalked out of the room, heading for the den where I knew Nerina had all the books stored.

Cal looked and sighed, his face an open book of emotions. He had a crush on Bree, probably as bad as mine on Jonah had been when I'd first met him. I couldn't blame him. I, of all people, knew the charms the Wolfe twins could work on a person.

“She'll come around,” I said. “Just ignore her until she does.”

“I can't,” he muttered, running his hand through his sun-colored hair, his eyes dark on the door to the den where Bree had disappeared.

Something hot and uncomfortable shot through me. I squeezed my eyes shut. I wasn't jealous that Cal wanted Bree. But I was jealous that he could have her, if he wanted to.

“Are we done?” I asked Nerina, my throat suddenly so tight. She nodded at me as she headed for the den, too.

I bolted from the room, up the stairs as fast as I could, and clambered into my bunk. Jenny was still fast asleep below me, her breathing slow and steady. I curled into a ball, my shoulders shaking. I tried to breathe, but my lungs were squished together. I hiccupped and gasped, hugging myself smaller and smaller. My mind was blank except for the memory of Jonah, the scent of him, the feel of his arms around me, the press of his lips on mine, and then tonight. Being with him without really being with him. It was so screwed up. My heart twisted, wanting so much more than I could have.

I rolled onto my side and stared at the wall. I wished I could talk to my mother. And I could; she was just down the hall. But that white-hot resentment remained and stopped me from getting out of bed and going to her. I could wake up Jenny. She would definitely listen and be sympathetic. But she wouldn't really understand. There wasn't anyone who could.

Except maybe Heath.

My lungs loosened, and my breathing slowed. I slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the top of the stairs.

Heath sat alone on the couch, staring into the fire. At the sound of my footsteps, he looked up and gave me a weary smile. “Can't sleep either, huh?”

I shook my head.

He patted the cushion next to him.

I settled into the pillows and pulled a throw blanket over my knees. I nudged Heath with my elbow. “I didn't know you'd been to Tibet.”

“Yeah.” Heath stretched his arms behind his head and leaned back. “The
Concilio
sent me there a few years ago. The Clan there was down one member and needed a loaner, I guess. We tried to overtake the site.” He sighed. “We failed, obviously.”

“Was anyone—?”

“No. Thankfully. But it was rough.” He pulled his legs up into a crisscross. “I was there for a couple of weeks and got to spend time with the locals. It really is beautiful.”

“You're so lucky you've gotten to travel,” I said. The firelight flickered on the brick hearth. “I'm never going to get out of this town.”

“You might,” Heath said. “If we defeat the Malandanti—”

“You said it yourself tonight—this war has been raging for centuries.” I swallowed hard, that hot lump threatening to appear in my throat again. “I'll probably never get out.”

“There's nothing wrong with spending your whole life in a place where you are loved,” Heath said softly.

I turned my head to stare at him. He wouldn't look back at me, so I studied his profile. The shadows on his face somehow made him look sadder than I'd ever seen him. “What do you mean?” I finally asked.

The fire crackled and spit. A log broke in half, tumbling deeper into the flames. “Have I ever told you how I ended up in Friuli?” Heath said.

It wasn't really a question because he knew damn well that he'd never told me. I didn't know anything about Heath's past, no matter how many times I'd asked him about it. I held my breath, scared that if I made a sound he would change his mind and not tell me.

“I grew up in Iowa,” Heath said, and I did start at that. Although he had that whole blond-haired, blue-eyed, corn-fed look to him, I'd always thought of Heath as cosmopolitan. “My dad died before I was born. My mom raised me. She was very religious.”

“Kinda like me,” I murmured.

Heath's gaze snapped to me. “No,” he said, sharp as a jagged rock. “Not like you at all. My mom didn't pray to a Virgin Mary statue on Sundays.
My
mom didn't let me read anything except the Bible. Because all books except the Bible were written by the devil.”

I sucked in air so fast it whistled in my teeth.

Heath started to talk fast, as though the story wouldn't come out any other way. “When I was fourteen, I started to spontaneously transform. It's very rare, but sometimes it happens to potential Benandanti. I didn't know what was happening to me, and I couldn't control it.”

“What—what did your mother do?” I kept my voice low, like I was talking to a frightened animal.

“She thought I was possessed by demons,” he said. “First she tried to beat it out of me. That didn't work, so she locked me in the basement.” He met my eyes. “For eight months.”

My insides froze.

“Finally she called her minister to come over and perform an exorcism. I knew him well; we'd been going to his church for years. I also knew that he'd put at least two children in the hospital ‘performing exorcisms.'” Heath's whole body was rigid. I could see how much this story was costing him to tell, and I imagined he'd probably only told it one other time in his life. “So the moment she opened the basement door, I was ready. He stepped onto the top stair, and I was there. I pushed him down the stairs, I knocked her to the floor, and I ran.

“I ran all the way to New York City, and I got a job as a cook's assistant on a cargo ship across the Atlantic. We docked in France, and I worked my way to Provence, where I got a job on a dairy farm.” A small smile played across his lips. “They were nice to me there. I learned French and all about cheese.” The smile dropped away. “But eventually they caught me transforming too, and they chased me off the farm. With a shotgun.” Heath exhaled slowly. “By then I'd learned about the Benandanti, so I made my way to Friuli.”

Heath tilted his head back and closed his eyes. I could tell he was seeing something in his mind's eye, something precious and sacred. “I will never forget . . . I got off the train and stood in the town square, turning in a circle to take everything in. And when the circle was complete and I was back in the place I'd started, Nerina was there, standing right in front of me. ‘So,' she said, ‘you have finally come.' She took me back to the seat of the
Concilio
, and they Called me, and I was home.” He opened his eyes and looked at me. “Nerina and I fell in love, but the
Concilio
forbade it because she's immortal and I'm not. It made no sense. We both knew the risks, but we were willing to take them. And still they said no.”

“And she chose them,” I whispered. “And then they sent you here.”

Heath nodded. His eyes were wide and bright, dappled with firelight. “Out of all the places I've been, even Friuli, this place, this town, has been the most
home
to me. Because I've been loved. By you, by your mother, by the Clan. I've been accepted. I will go wherever the
Concilio
asks me to go, but I hope they never ask me to leave Twin Willows.” His gaze narrowed, as though he could see right into my heart. “Don't ever take this place for granted, Alessia. No matter how much pain you feel right now—from Jonah, from your mom, from the Malandanti—there are people here who love you no matter what.” He turned back to the fire, his face in shadow again. “Everyone should be so lucky.”

Walking to Tibet

Bree

Cal followed me into the den like a freaking puppy dog. Part of me wanted to order him to
sit stay good boy
, but the other part of me . . . well, okay. Cal was cute and smart—
Yale,
for God's sake—and there were worse boys to have following me around. In fact, I usually did have worse boys following me around. Maybe it was time I let a good one come calling.

“Here, take this.” I thrust one of the ancient texts into his hands and gestured to the couch. “You can start looking in there.”

Cal examined the pages. “Latin?”

“Yeah. There's a translation codex in the back.”

“Don't need it.” He flopped onto the plaid-covered cushions and grinned at me. The smile sparkled all the way up into his blue eyes. “I read Latin.”

“
Of course
you do.” I snatched the book away and handed him another. Time to show him who was boss. “How's your Sanskrit?”

“Um . . .”

“You don't know Sanskrit? Jeez. And they let you into Yale?” I clucked my tongue.

“
I'll
take the Sanskrit,” Nerina said, plucking the book away from Cal and handing him back the Latin one. “You don't read it either, Bree.”

I rolled my eyes and picked up another Latin text. It was the most common language in the books and texts we'd stolen from the Guild, and I could read it now without having to check the codex in the back too much. I glanced around the room. Nerina sat in the huge lounge chair in the corner, her silk-pajama-clad legs tucked up beneath her and her manicured finger running along the words on the page as she read. Jeff and Cora sat with their heads bent together at the desk against the wall, studying one of the texts in Middle English. The only seat left for me was on the couch, next to Cal.

I went to sit, but just before my butt hit the cushion, a wave of pain crashed through me. I froze, my teeth gritted, breathing in and out hard. A gentle hand on my elbow guided me down, and I sank into the pillows. I closed my eyes for a moment until I could breathe normally again.

“Are you okay?” Cal asked, keeping his voice low so that the others didn't come rushing over, which I appreciated.

“I'm fine.” I tossed my hair back and smiled at him. “I just got tortured, that's all.”

He grimaced. “Yeah, I heard something about that. That sounds . . .” His eyes squinted.

I laughed. “There's not really an appropriate word, is there? It's not like Hallmark makes a Sorry You Got Tortured card.”

Cal leaned in closer to me. The scent of the forest still lingered on him, pine and bark and snow, and something about it eased the pain in my ribs. “The new Sorry You Got Tortured line is in stores now! Featuring the Hey, At Least You Didn't Lose Any Fingers and the You Still Have Your Kneecaps designs.”

I choked, trying not to draw Nerina's attention by laughing too hard. “Nice,” I said to Cal, fumbling for a snappier comeback, but for once I felt like I didn't even need it.

A Cheshire-cat grin spread across his face. He was obviously pleased with himself for making me laugh, but somehow instead of rolling my eyes in annoyance, I smiled back. Okay. I'd let him have that one.

I turned one of the thick, weathered pages of my book. The sun crested into the room through the cutesy wooden shutters on all the windows. “I just don't see how the Tibetan magic could be used as a failsafe,” I said, rubbing my eyes. After not sleeping all night, they felt all itchy and swollen. “The magic only works for the Benandanti and the Malandanti—those who've already been Called and potentials. How would they use it to get their power back?”

“I thought you said monks could use it to shadow-walk,” Cal said.

“Yeah, but they're not dipping into the actual magic,” I explained. “They're using its essence to reinforce their own ability.”