The Blue Woods (20 page)

His eyes never left me.
Yes,
he said.
Yes, do it.
I was right in front of him now. I came down to my knees.
It's okay, Bree-girl. Look at my body. I'm already dead.

I glanced over. In the flickering firelight I saw the decay spreading across his face and neck. I knew it could take days, that his body would just suffer and suffer. Even if he couldn't feel it, the thought of it made me sick. I threw my arms around the Tiger's neck and buried my face in his soft fur. As I did, a powerful déjà vu swept through me. I had seen this before . . . done this before. This moment was the one true vision the Waterfall had given me the night we'd brought down the Guild, the night the Rabbit had put so many false visions in my mind.

I clung to the Tiger, my tears matting down his fur.

I love you, Bree-girl. I know I wasn't the best father, but I always loved you.

I wasn't exactly the best daughter,
I murmured into his fur.
But I loved you too.

Take care of your brother and your mom, okay? Tell them I died a good death.

I will. I promise.

A guttural sound of longing ripped out of his throat.
You have to do it now. I can't stay here much longer . . .

Somehow, I managed to tear myself away from him and stand up. Somehow, I managed to turn inward and enter that Tudor house. Somehow, I managed to find the door to the magic of Angel Falls and summon the red smoke.

But I don't remember anything after that. In that moment, my mind flooded with memories. The real Tudor house on that quiet street in Charlottesville with the white picket fence out front, jumping into the piles of leaves that Dad had just raked, the lemonade stand he'd built, the swing in the backyard that he'd push me on.
“Higher, Daddy, higher!”
And he'd push me so high I'd touch the sky.

When I came back down to earth, I lay on my back, the stars bright above me. I felt Dad's lifeless body next to me. We were alone. Shen had left me, gone to join his Clan so they could claim the site. So Dad and I lay there, side by side, counting the stars like we used to in our Charlottesville backyard until the dawn faded them from view.

The Awful, Terrible Truth

Alessia

It was odd to not have to step over Bree and her air mattress when I got up in the morning. I washed my face and went down to the kitchen, hoping that Lidia wouldn't be up yet.

No such luck. She and Mr. Salter sat at the kitchen table, their fingers just barely touching across the wooden surface. What the hell was he doing here? Was he
sleeping
here now? The second she saw me, Lidia snatched her hand back and jumped to her feet. “
Buongiorno, cara
. There's coffee and muffins, or I can make some eggs if you want.”

“No, thank you,” I said, my spine stiff as I sidestepped her and went to the counter. I poured two cups of coffee and turned around. I headed toward the living room, but Lidia blocked my path. “What?”

“Alessia, this is silly. Please let's talk after school,
bene
?”

“Won't you be busy?” I jerked my chin toward Mr. Salter.

“Alessia, your mother and I—” he began.

“I really don't want to hear it,” I said, a little too loud. I shot a glare at Lidia. “You know he shouldn't be here. You're putting him in danger.”

Mr. Salter stepped in front of Lidia. “It's okay, Alessia. I know about the Benandanti.”

That word, coming from his mouth, punched me in the gut. “What?” I said, looking between them. “Is there anyone in this town who
doesn't
know about the Benandanti?”

“I was as surprised as you,” said Heath, coming up behind me from the living room. He plucked one of the mugs of coffee out of my hand and took a sip. “I sat him down last night to tell him everything, but he already knew.”

“Did Nerina okay this?”

Heath shrugged. “Not really, but I told her if he was going to be hanging around he should know what's going on.”

“I can help,” Mr. Salter offered.

“How? How can you possibly help? Can you dismantle the magical barrier surrounding the Waterfall? No? Didn't think so.”

“Alessia!” Heath elbowed me.

“And how the hell does he know, anyway?” I narrowed my eyes at Mr. Salter. “You said you didn't know about the Waterfall that night you were over for dinner.”

“I
didn't
know about the Waterfall. Not until Heath told me.” Mr. Salter's voice was calm, which infuriated me.

“Then how do you know about the Benandanti?”

“Because . . .” He swallowed and his face softened. “Because Dolly was one.”

“Dolly was a Benandante?” My hand shook, sloshing coffee onto my wrist. Heath took the cup from me and set it on the table. “Did she—did she die in battle?”

Mr. Salter shook his head. “No. It was the cancer, just as everybody thought. Even Benandanti can get sick.” A sad smile twisted his mouth. “She never told me about the Waterfall. She told me only the barest minimum, to keep me safe.”

I tried to wrap my brain around the image of sweet Dolly, kicking Malandanti ass at the Waterfall. Actually, I could see it, because along with that sweetness had come a heavy dollop of sass. I wondered if my dad had known, if he'd suspected that his neighbor was in the same Clan with his parents. And who had replaced her when she died? Had it been Cora?

The answer hit me like a smack across the face.

I put my hand to my mouth, my words escaping between my fingers. “It was me, wasn't it?” I whispered. “I replaced her.”

No one spoke for a moment; no one needed to. I knew I was right. God, how twisted was this? How many families across Twin Willows had been drawn into the Benandanti's legacy? How many generations backward did it stretch?

Mr. Salter opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get a word out, Jeff ran in from the living room, Cora on his heels. “They've done it!” he yelled, waving a sheet of paper in the air.

I whirled, grateful for the distraction, and snatched the paper out of his hand. It was a printed email, sparsely written. “‘Tibetan site claimed,'” I read out loud.

Cora crushed into me, whooping in my ear. Heath and Jeff threw their arms around both of us so that we were a tight circle of hugs and tears and laughter. I buried my face in their nearness and let the joy of victory wash away the shock of what I'd just learned about Dolly. Even though I hadn't been there in Tibet, I could taste the success in my mouth. I pictured the scene in my mind, the brilliant blue barrier of Benandanti magic surrounding the site, blasting out the silvery gray of the Malandanti. They had done it. Nerina and Bree—they'd won us a site we'd never before possessed.

“I didn't even read the rest of the email,” Jeff said after we'd all calmed down. “What does it say?”

I pulled away from the circle and held up the paper to read the rest. “‘No casualties on the Benandanti side,'” I said.

“Thank God,” Jeff murmured.

“‘Will return in two days,'” I continued. My eyes scanned the next line, and the words died on my lips.

“What is it?” Heath asked.

I looked up at him. My breath froze in my lungs, my insides like icicles.

Heath took the paper from me. “‘Travis Wolfe dead. Bree not doing well.'” He met my eyes. “Oh.”

My mind crumpled, too many thoughts for it to contain. What had happened? Did he die in battle? He must have. And if that was the case, he must've died at the hands of one of our own . . . or—
God
—even Bree herself. Did Mrs. Wolfe know?
Did Jonah?

Without a word, I turned and ran to the front door. Everything else that had happened this morning was wiped away. I had only one coherent thought: get to Jonah. I wasn't even sure where he was but I knew I had to try. Halfway up the driveway I heard footsteps behind me. “Alessia, wait. Wait!” Heath caught up to me and grabbed my arm from behind, pulling me to a stop. “You can't just go over there. It's too dangerous.”

“I don't care. I have to see him.” My vision blurred with tears, and I swiped them away. “I know a back way in. Mrs. Wolfe is on our side—she's been helping Bree. It'll be okay.” I tugged my arm, but Heath held me fast. “Please. Heath, you have to let me. He
needs
me now.”

Heath looked skyward, as though the clouds might help him control his unruly charge. “Okay. One hour. If you're not back in sixty minutes, I'm coming after you.”

“Thank you.” He let go of me and I ran, faster and faster until I got to Jonah's house. I didn't know if he was there or not, but it was the first place I could think of to look for him. What if he didn't know yet? What if I was the one who had to tell him? I grasped the lowest branch of the tree outside the bathroom and heaved myself up. I didn't want to be the one to tell him, but better the news come from me than from Pratt, who I imagined had all the sympathy of an anaconda.

The bark scraped my gloveless hands, but I propelled myself up as fast as I could until I reached the bathroom window. It was unlocked; Mrs. Wolfe had said she'd leave it open for Bree to come in if she needed to. I landed with a soft thud on the bathmat and tiptoed to the hallway. The instant I poked my head out, Mrs. Wolfe's bedroom door creaked open.

“Alessia!” she hissed and gestured frantically for me to come to her.

When I reached her side, she shoved me behind her into the room, hard. I was about to protest when I heard the sound of a door opening farther down the hallway. “Miriam?”

I froze. It was Pratt.

“I was just coming to check on Jonah,” she said, her voice shaky.

“I'm handling it. If I need you, I will fetch you.” He slammed the door with such force it shook the wall I was pressed against.

Mrs. Wolfe backed up into the bedroom, shut the door, and locked it. “I'm so sorry about that,” she whispered. “But I heard you come in through the bathroom and I was afraid he had, too.” She picked up a towel that lay draped on the chair by the door and stuffed it into the crack beneath the door. “That'll help a little, but we have to be quiet. They're just next door in Jonah's room.”

“So he's here, then? Is it just Pratt with him?”

She nodded. “Pratt brought him over . . . to be with me.” Taking my elbow, she propelled me to the bed to sit. Her laptop bounced a little on the mattress, and she moved it to the nightstand before settling next to me. She swallowed hard. “Jonah's father died yesterday.”

“At the Tibetan site. I know. I'm so sorry.” I touched her arm, and she leaned into me. I suddenly realized I was probably the only friendly support she had at the moment, surrounded as she was by the enemy.

“It's an odd feeling,” Mrs. Wolfe said. She sounded as though she was thinking hard about her words. “I always knew this would end badly. The moment he took that job, I knew.” She looked out the window at the bare branches of the tree just on the other side of the glass. “Once upon a time, we had a lovely life together. And when I think about that, I'm sad.” Her gaze flicked back to me. “But I lost that life, that Travis, a long time ago. And so, in a way, I've already mourned.”

I looked at her face. It was almost serene with the understanding that she was now a widow. I thought of how my mother's face had permanent tearstains beneath the black lace veil she had worn for days after my father had died. My throat tightened. I had to get to Jonah in the next room. My heart, my mind, my bones ached to be with him. What were they saying to him? What could they possibly say to him that would make anything better for him? If I could get to him, I would know what to say. Or what not to say. He would want silence now, not the cruel, empty words of Pratt and his cohorts. I knew how complicated Jonah's relationship with his dad was. I knew he would try to brush off his death as if he didn't care but that an ache would start deep down and wouldn't go away. Not for a long, long time. Maybe not ever.

“I have to go to him.” I slid off the bed. “He needs me more than those jerks.”

“Alessia, no.” Mrs. Wolfe hurried across the room and blocked me at the door. “It's too dangerous.”

“They don't know that I'm a Benandante,” I said. “They only know I'm his girlfriend.”

“
Ex-
girlfriend.”

“Even so. Wouldn't I come over if I heard his dad had died?”

“But how would you know? They told me to not tell anyone. They're not making this knowledge public. The Guild wants the federal government to think that Travis skipped town to avoid the investigation, and they want to distract the feds by making them search for him.”

“Damn.” I stepped back. It was just like the Guild—sneaky but smart. “I just wish I knew what they were saying to him. Because it's probably causing more harm than good.”

Mrs. Wolfe chewed her lip. “The attic,” she said suddenly. “There's a vent in his room. You'll be able to hear them.” I followed her into the walk-in closet at the corner of the bedroom. She pulled the string that dangled down in the center of the closet, and a ladder unfolded. “Keep to the beams,” she said. “Try not to step too heavily or they might hear you.”

“Aren't you coming up?”

“They'll definitely hear both of us,” she said. “I trust you to report back what you hear.”

The attic was a maze of luggage, empty television and computer boxes, and rubber bins labeled with things like
Christmas
and
Baby Clothes
. I crawled along the center beam in the direction I knew Jonah's room to be. Voices floated up as I neared the vent, soft and unintelligible at first, then louder as I got closer. When I reached it, I lay down along the beam with my ear against the cold metal.