3. Chapter Three
The old woman had long silver-streaked black hair that reached down to her knees and was braided into a splendid plait. Her very presence vibrated with magic such that Linorra could feel it from across the musty room.
“Are you a witch?” Linorra asked.
“I am,” the witch said. “What are you?”
“Nothing,” Linorra said. “I’m just a girl.”
“Just a girl?” the witch asked. “That’s a funny thing to say, but I suppose I know why you said it. I’ve thought that myself once or twice.”
“You?” Linorra asked, astonished. “Haven’t you always had your magic?”
“Yes,” the witch said. “I have.”
It was downhill most of the way back to the stables, and we made it in less than half the time it had taken to walk out. We didn’t run all the way back. I was in good shape, but I had just gotten out of the hospital, and I was still broken in two places.
We ran until we couldn’t run anymore, then we walked, discussing what Drew and I heard. Then someone would hear a sound behind us, and we would run again. By the time we made it back, we were all exhausted and sweaty. The creepy weirdness in the woods was smothered by intense physical exertion, and our ghost discussion had turned into half the group believing and the other half laughing hysterically. Nobody had seen any sign of Rogue.
As the sun set, we all shuffled into the screened-in porch at my parents’ house and collapsed onto the couches. The porch had an oversized stone fireplace and seating for bed and breakfast guests.
Four guest rooms were accessible from the porch, none of which were fancy, but they were clean and had comfortable beds. Only the room at the farthest end of the porch was occupied. A twentysomething girl traveling alone, the guest in that room was pretty in a Snow White kind of way and could have lured away one of the Jermez twins, but she had yet to emerge since checking in.
We had the porch all to ourselves, so we tucked in for a night of merriment that would inevitably end with my friends crashing in the guest rooms.
My mom had, indeed, made her spicy chuck burgers and paired them with scalloped potatoes, corn on the cob, and a keg. Yes, a keg. My parents were thrifty, and a keg was cheaper than individual bottles of beer—not to mention better for the environment, as Spirit enthusiastically noted. Plus, it’s just fun to drink out of a red Solo cup. I mean, come on. What’s better than a keg party with friends? Nothing, that’s who.
My parents left us to it, retreating into the house once their friends left. We all sat together on the outdoor couches, which were arranged around a large wicker coffee table with a glass top. We had our red cups, which had been drained and refilled multiple times. Our paper plates—which had been piled with food beyond the confines of societal norms—lay empty in front of each one of us, except Spirit, who was vegan and hadn’t needed a plate for her one piece of watermelon.
Milo had eaten two giant burgers to make up for what he called her obvious error, and he was on his eighth beer at least. He’d been laughing loudly at us for the past five hours and showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. I was sure he was trying to memorize every detail of the night so he could tell the story for years to come. I doubted he would remember any of it.
“You didn’t see a ghost,” Marti said.
“I didn’t say I saw a ghost,” I corrected. “I heard laughing that wasn’t attached to a person. You guys had all walked away already, and Drew heard it, too, dammit!”
“I did hear it,” Drew squeaked, “and it was the weirdest thing in the history of ever. I was so scared!” Her eyes were wide as she spoke, but they danced, and a small smile played on her lips. It was dangerously adorable.
Milo laughed again. Marti smiled, too, her eyes rarely leaving Milo. She appeared uncommonly relaxed, though she had stopped drinking after the first beer in case she needed to manage her husband.
“I believe you, Lina,” Spirit chimed in.
“So do I,” said the twins at the same time.
Milo rolled his eyes and Marti laughed out loud. “You guys are so pathetic. Especially you, Juan,” she said.
Finally, I thought. “Yeah, Juan,” I said.
Milo and Marti both burst out laughing. Marti said, “You see? I told you she didn’t remember their names!” This, of course, made everyone laugh.
“Freaking Marti, I swear!” I said, exasperated. I wasn’t actually mad that she had tricked me into revealing my secret mental impairment. Everyone already knew about it anyway. However, I was still irritated that she’d called Drew.
“I can’t believe you fell for that again,” Marti said, still laughing.
“I’m sorry,” I said to the twins. “Can you guys please just tell me your names again?”
“And shoe size,” interjected Milo.
“Never mind. I’m getting another beer. Anyone?” I asked. A chorus of agreement followed. “Everyone. Got it,” I said. I got up and walked toward the keg, giving Marti a little side-eye as I passed. She glanced at me, then back at Milo, shrugging. I had no room to judge. I was a little wobbly myself as I walked to the keg.
The door squeaked open, and my mom came through it, holding a bottle. “Does anyone want port?” Another chorus of merry agreement resounded. Even Marti sat up with interest.
“Everyone. Got it,” she said. “I’ll get the port glasses.” She walked over to the outdoor bar to fetch them. She had a weird obsession with using the proper dishes and utensils for things, as if she were entertaining royalty and didn’t want to appear uncouth. I wondered if her fancy glassware would survive the night. I didn’t care either way. I hate port.
Another door squeaked. I glanced up, expecting my dad, but a guest door opened, and Snow White walked out. She smiled crookedly at me, but it didn’t touch her eyes, which were a luminous blue-green color. They didn’t seem like human eyes but more like the kind of monster eyes you might see coming out of the darkness on a vintage episode of Scooby Doo.
I tried to return her smile, but it was stiff. “Are you finding everything okay?” I asked. She nodded. “Are you interested in dinner? My mother is famous for her cooking.”
“Yes, thank you,” she said. “I should eat something.” She had an unusually deep voice, and something close to a standard American or maybe Canadian accent, but I couldn’t quite place it. She was several inches taller than me with well-muscled shoulders and a lean frame. She looked me up and down, one corner of her mouth twitching. Something amused her, apparently, and I had no desire to know what.
I turned away, avoiding her intense gaze, and got her a plate. It was tricky to maneuver the tongs with my splinted extremity, but I managed. She didn’t offer to help, despite my obvious injury. I had to stop loading food before the plate got too heavy to hold with just my left hand. I walked over to her, holding out the plate.
“Would you like to eat out here or in your room?” I asked, hiding my annoyance.
“It’s a lovely night. I think I’ll eat out here,” she said, her crooked smile poised to jump right off her face and bite me.
I looked away from her, out past the screens toward the trees. It was getting late, and the fog had fully consumed the property. It was cool, but not cold, and there was very little wind. A symphony of frogs and toads out in the grove reminded me of summers with Rogue when I was in school. It really was a perfect night, but the fun of the evening hadn’t relieved my profound sense of loss.
“You’re right,” I said. “It’s a beautiful night. Sit anywhere you like.”
The guest settled at a table in the corner of the porch and picked up her burger. I pointed a fake little smile at her and turned to go back to my group, but before I could escape, she coughed loudly. I turned back to find her spitting out the burger.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing, it’s just a little spicy for me,” she said, coughing again.
I did my best to hide my incredulity. The burgers weren’t that spicy. It was mostly paprika. “I’m sorry. Can I get you something else?” I asked.
“No. I will eat the . . . um . . .”
“Potatoes?” I supplied.
“Yes,” she said, picking up the corn.
Huh. Maybe she’s from Quebec. “Okay, I’ll be over here if you need anything.”
“I don’t mean to be rude,” she said quickly, before I could leave. “We eat very little spice where I’m from.”
“Oh? Where is that?”
“Neesee,” she said, her crooked smile returning.
I looked at the ceiling, trying to rack my brain. “Is that in Canada?”
She paused, furrowing her brow, then said, “No, much farther away than that, but I have a feeling you will like it there.”
“Would,” I corrected. “Would like it there.”
Her smirk returned and she said, “Maybe I should go back to my room. I’ll need my rest tonight.” With that, she rose and walked out, shutting the door softly behind her. I didn’t hear the click of a bolt. Her food sat on the table, untouched except for that one bite.
“What a psycho,” I said out loud.
“Lina!” my mother hissed. I did a slow-motion turn to find my mother giving me a stern expression. “Be nice to my guests.”
“Sorry,” I said, chagrined. Mom nodded, then she went back into the house, taking the platters with her.
I headed over to where I had been sitting earlier and plopped back down next to Drew.
“What is it?” Drew asked, her eyes narrowed.
“I just talked to our guest, and she is super weird.”
“Weird how?” Drew asked. That’s what I always liked about Drew. She was always on my side. Ya know, until she wasn’t.
“I don’t know,” I mumbled, glancing down at my feet. “Oh, I forgot to get my beer.”
“Here,” Drew said, holding up a small glass. “I got you this port.”
I wrinkled my nose. “It’s kind of an elderly person’s drink, don’t you think?”
Drew rolled her eyes. “Just take it, judgy.”
I took the glass but didn’t drink, then glanced over at our friends, who had all drifted into smaller units. Milo seemed like he was about to pass out and just wanted to hump something before that happened. He whispered to Marti, who giggled unexpectedly. They got up, stumbled into the closest guest room without saying good night and closed the door. I heard the bolt turn, then I heard Milo’s boisterous laugh, then nothing.
Spirit and I gave each other a look and we both smirked. The twins were still in competition for her attention, and she appeared weary of the game. I stood, preparing to rescue her, but Drew took my hand, holding me back. I looked down at her and she stared back at me very directly. I could almost read her mind. She wanted me alone and she was done waiting. I sat back down, resigned, then glanced up at Spirit.
Spirit glanced from me to Drew and seemed to come to a decision. She took the hand of the long-haired twin, giving him the come hither, and walked toward the last guest room. He jumped up, triumphant. The other twin sagged into his chair and groaned. When Spirit got to the doorway, she turned around and said, “Hey, Bobby, aren’t you coming?” Bobby stared blankly at her for a second, then jumped up and practically skipped after her. Spirit and I made eye contact before she shut the door, and I felt suddenly flushed.
Drew seemed perturbed. “I don’t even want one,” she whispered, “let alone two. And brothers? That’s more than a bit ick, for me.” I stared after the trio, thinking how very, very wrong she was.
If Drew weren’t here, you could be skipping over there yourself, Evilina thought. I had a lot of pent-up energy after more than a year of celibacy, and I wanted to expend it over there in that other room, not over here with Drew.
I was being presented with a chance to get back together with Drew, and all I could think about was knocking on Spirit’s door. It wouldn’t be the first time, let’s be honest, though never with so many participants at once. It turned me on just thinking about following those three into the room. I mean, who wouldn’t love a foursome? Nobody, that’s what.
Actually, maybe Drew.
I looked over at her, trying very hard to keep my face relaxed so she couldn’t see how annoyed I was by her presence. I’d missed her, but I’d gotten used to missing her. I’d made peace with it and had moved on to bigger and better things. Or at least a wider variety of things. It would be a sacrifice to go there with her again. I’d have to leave behind a side of myself that I had come to love.
I set the glass of port down on the coffee table, stood, and said, “Bobby, huh? I never would have guessed that name in a million years.” Drew laughed her nice, soft laugh and gripped my hand firmly.
A lead weight lay in the pit of my stomach. How do you reject someone who might love you when you yourself know exactly how much that sucks? You just do it, I guess.
“Lina,” she said. “I just want you to know that I never stopped loving you. I know I said we needed a clean break, but—”
“Drew,” I interrupted, but as I glanced out past the porch screen again, searching for the words, I saw it. At the end of our gravel driveway, maybe twenty yards away from the porch, was a sign that read “Silverstone Stables.” Even though it wasn’t very far away, I could hardly see it through the fog. A light hung over the sign, illuminating it at night and creating a spotlight on the ground.
In that spotlight stood Rogue.
I sucked in a breath. “Rogue!” I looked around the room wildly for my hiking pack. It still had the leash in it. I saw it sitting on the porch bar, grabbed it with my good hand, and burst through the porch door without a second thought. It made a loud slapping sound as it closed behind me.
“Lina!” Drew shouted.
“Go get my dad!” I screamed. I never found out if she did it. I ran toward Rogue. I kept my eyes on him, as if losing sight of him would make him vanish again. I got to within ten yards of him before he bolted.
I guess I’m going to need that leash after all.
Before he tore down the road, he’d been silently staring at me, like he’d waited for me to see him so that I could follow. He kept a little distance ahead of me on the driveway, then turned down a footpath to the right, straight into the woods. He wasn’t running full tilt but just fast enough that I could keep him in sight without catching him.
“Rogue!” I shouted again. Between the fog, which was thicker than usual, and the dark, I couldn’t see a damned thing. I didn’t care. I had to get to him.
I cried as I ran, letting the branches scrape and slap my face, confused about what was happening. Just as I began to despair of ever catching him, nature decided to make me its bitch and created a nice hole for me to step in.
To be fair, I was still a little drunk, which is absolutely the only reason why I twisted my ankle and tumbled to the ground like a cheerleader in a 1980s slasher movie.
I still held the pack in my left hand, and so I thoughtlessly thrust out my injured right hand. When I landed, I heard a disturbing crack as the weakly supported injury took the brunt of the impact, likely splitting even farther down the bone. Pain blinded me for a good ten seconds, shooting up my arm all the way to my shoulder. I dropped the pack and instinctively pulled the injury to my chest, screeching and curling up like a roly-poly.
When the initial pain subsided and became a merely nauseating throb, I uncurled and looked up. Rogue had stopped within a few feet of me, waiting. I heard him whine. His amber eyes, always so impossibly aware, glowed in the darkness.
“Rogue, what are you doing?” I pleaded, still clutching my wrist to my chest. He didn’t move. I managed to get the pack and pull it all the way onto my back, then used my good arm to get up, limping a little on my now-sprained ankle. Tears streamed down my face from both pain and frustration.
“I can’t run after you anymore, Rogue. Please just come home.” He stared at me, motionless. His eyes flicked past me, over my shoulder, then back to my face. His ears were bright pink.
I listened for voices coming after me from the house, but I heard nothing. It was dead silent. Even the frogs and toads had stopped singing.
“Please, Rogue. What do you want?”
Then, as if in answer, a swarm of light blue fireflies appeared between us and flew around in a little circle.
No, not fireflies, my brain informed me. Not the right color.Flecks of light.
They were an aqua color and ethereal, like swirling bits of dust that you might see floating in a beam of afternoon sunshine. It was beautiful, but my brain couldn’t process what I saw.
The lights swirled until the circle became a sphere, then it made a loud and unexpected whooshing sound. I jolted back and stared, transfixed.
The sphere slowly expanded, the pinpoints of light becoming brighter and more numerous until it was essentially a raging ball of blue fire.
It was so bright that it lit up the surrounding area, coloring everything with a peculiar blue sheen, as if we were in an ice cave instead of the middle of a forest. The light cut a tunnel through the fog, and I recognized a familiar clearing.
I squinted and used my good hand to shade my eyes. Below the sphere, set into the ground, was a stone with a large X carved into it. I knew this place. It was my treasure spot from a childhood game.
“X marks the spot,” I said to myself, remembering the last time I was here.
Finally coming to my senses, I backed up and looked around for Rogue. I stumbled backward, just barely keeping myself from falling again. A pain shot up to my knee from my sprained ankle, but I gritted my teeth and ignored it.
The light expanded slowly enough that I had no trouble escaping, even in my condition. When it reached about the size of a small car, it stopped.
I searched my pockets for my phone to take a video. I couldn’t find it. After some fumbling, I finally remembered that it was stuck in my bra. I pulled it out, but the screen wouldn’t work because it was covered with sweat. I wiped it on my shirt and hopped back a couple feet so I could get the whole sphere in the frame.
I bumped into something. I expected a tree, but when I looked over my shoulder, I saw a woman with a crooked smile and red lips. I flinched away from her.
“Lina,” she said in her husky voice. “It really is a beautiful night, isn’t it?” She laughed, and I would have recognized that laugh anywhere.
“You’re the ghost,” I said, my heart pounding.
She laughed again. It gave me a chill despite the ball of fire not six feet from me. I wanted to back away from her, but I also didn’t want to be incinerated. I was trapped. “Who are you? What do you want?”
Psycho Snow White pursed her lips, then shrugged. “My name is Seleca, but that’s not important. You and I may get to know each other at some point, but for now, I’m just a girl searching for her dog, like you.” She said the word “dog” like it was a great insult. Rogue, having navigated around the ball of fire, walked between us and sat down, glancing up at me and then back down as if ashamed.
“Who’s a good boy?” she said, smiling. He growled for a brief moment, then quieted. I had never heard him growl before. I looked from him to the woman and back again, trying to comprehend what was happening, but I couldn’t. I was experiencing an abrupt dissolution of my reality.
Psycho Snow White stepped toward Rogue, crouching down to slip her hand under his rib cage. She picked up his giant body with one arm as if he were a stuffed animal. Rogue whined loudly, but he didn’t struggle. He turned his head, and for a split second, I saw the skin around his eyes ripple like the surface of a pond. Then she threw him into the ball of fire.
I screamed. I’m not proud of it. I don’t think of myself as a person who screams stupidly and falls down, but I had done both of those things in the last two minutes. You are such a cliché,Evilina thought.
“Don’t worry. He’ll be fine,” she said, walking toward me. I got the definite feeling that she stalked me now. The closer she got to me, the bigger she looked. I had never been in a fight before, and I had absolutely no instincts for it. Plus, I was injured, okay? I didn’t have a prayer.
Her interaction with Rogue had given me an out, and I turned to run, but she caught me easily from behind, wrapping her arms around my rib cage. I convulsed, my broken ribs screaming, but she hung on, dragging me toward the blue fireball.
“Have a nice trip,” she said. “I’ll catch up with you later.” Then, she tossed me in.