Chapter 37
The windshield wipers on the Frazer smeared the rain instead of removing it. The car wasn’t very old, but whoever owned it hadn’t kept up with basic maintenance. Fortunately, an hour or so after they’d left Crowson behind, the rain let up, and Malcolm could concentrate on the road.
“It’s cold,” Violet said. “I never thought about how chilly a convertible would be when the weather turned like this.”
Malcolm bent over the steering wheel and glanced at the sky. Had it grown whiter along with darker? They might have an hour or two until night fell, but with the cloud cover, it seemed nearer. That accounted for the darker sky, but not the gray turning to white.
He rolled the window down a few inches.
“What are you doing?” Jennie asked from the back seat.
Malcolm rolled the window up again. He’d caught the scent in the air, felt the crispness of it. “Snow’s coming.”
“Just what we need,” Jennie said.
“It’s early in the season for snow,” Violet observed.
Malcolm nodded and tapped the accelerator. He was already speeding, but he had to take the risk of being stopped. Once it started to snow, the windshield wipers would slow them down. Hope’s gun was tucked up under his seat. Violet’s was in the glove box.
He glanced in the rearview mirror. The boy, Benjy, sat with his hands cuffed behind his back.
The kid had to be uncomfortable, even in pain, but hadn’t said a word.
In the shadows of the back seat, his eyes gleamed.
Malcolm watched him, and Benjy stared back as if the mirror held some sort of battleground.
He didn’t like the way the boy studied him.
The kid seemed too mature, too observant.
“Damn it,” Malcolm muttered.
“What is it?” Violet asked.
“The kid. I know he’s not in control of the things he’s done—he’s being driven, and Root’s behind the wheel—but we never should’ve brought him with us.”
Violet bristled. “We couldn’t just leave him in their control. We have to try to help him.”
“That’s the trouble,” Malcolm said. “He’s still in their control.”
Jennie straightened. “You think Root can track the boy?”
“They’re still connected, or the kid wouldn’t be acting like this,” Malcolm said. “Jennie, do you still have some of that powder you dusted Maggie with?”
“Shit.” Jennie dug around the inside pockets in her coat, exhaling when she found what she sought. “Yes. I’ve got it.”
“Use it,” Violet said. “I can’t believe we didn’t think of that right away.”
Benjy squealed as Jennie dipped her fingers into what remained of her pixie dust. The boy pistoned his legs and smashed his shoulder into Jennie with such force that her head bounced off the car window, leaving a windmill of cracks in the glass.
“Little bastard!” Jennie snapped.
She grabbed Benjy, pinned him with a knee, and scattered a small cloud of powder onto his hair and clothing. The kid thrashed against the back of the seat, trying to elude the pixie dust, but the inside of the Frazer offered no escape.
“Why are we doing this?” Violet asked. “We’ve passed plenty of places we could have left him. Someone would help him.”
“His mind is Root’s right now,” Jennie said. “There’s no telling what kind of danger that puts him in. We can’t just leave him behind.”
Malcolm might not have lived with his sister in many years, but he still knew when she was lying. “That’s bunk. Just be straight with us. Why are we holding on to this kid?”
Jennie held Benjy in place as she belted him into his seat, hands still behind his back.
“Fine.” She gave a tiny shrug. “It’s for our benefit. You both know this. If the Morák get close to us, Benjy will feel it. He’ll sense them closing in. Call him our fire alarm.”
“That’s awful,” Violet said. “He’s still alive. He’s not one of those things, and you’re putting him in danger by keeping him with us.”
“Letting him go adds to the danger we’re in. I’ll make sure the kid’s all right,” Jennie said, “but I’m not setting him free until we’re out of the woods.”
The tires slipped a bit on the next turn. It was cold enough that the rain on the road had begun to freeze. Minutes later, the first snowflakes hit the windshield, and Malcolm had to turn the wipers back on. The noise they made while scraping the glass sounded very much like screaming.