Chapter 6
Chapter six
Bridget
“It’s been almost two weeks since the incident in the woods. I doubt he’s going to stroll up to you in the Boston Common for a nice chat,” Archer said, passing her the last plate from their dishwasher to put in the cabinet. Early morning light reflected off the glass.
The incident. Archer’s new nickname for her encounter with the Shaman by the gate rattled Bridget’s nerves.
She understood his reluctance to let Nylah find out what happened, but his skeptical tone every time he uttered the word, like he didn’t quite believe her, made her want to throttle him.
Despite his warning, she continued to hide a variety of knives on her person.
“You never know. Besides, I swear I felt someone watching me yesterday,” Bridget whispered, glaring at him.
If he talked any louder, he was going to wake Nylah.
She wanted to get to the gate and back before her sister even noticed she was gone.
On Saturdays, she tended to sleep like a log until it was time for their weekly movie marathon.
Archer shook his head. “Ever since the gate disappeared, you’ve been taking everything as some sort of sign.”
Bridget tried to ignore her twisting insides, a warning that maybe she was too eager for a message from Elyria.
After she’d come home with blood dripping from her nose and ears, ranting about the Shaman’s warning, Archer had gone back with her to the gate.
Except it wasn’t there. For hours, they’d circled the forest and retraced the path they knew led there.
They’d found nothing but trees. Bridget knew the Shaman had something to do with it, knew he put some spell or curse on the woods so it hid the gate entirely.
Whatever he’d done, Archer hadn’t been able to break it.
“I don’t care about the gate,” Bridget lied. Its sudden disappearance bothered her more than she wanted it to. Putting on her gloves, she added, “I just want to know who sent him. And why.”
Ignoring Archer’s gaze, she continued to gather up her purse and scarf. Moments later, he scoffed, “That’s what you’re doing today, isn’t it? Going back out here to look for it? Have you ever considered that he gave you that warning for a reason? That maybe you should listen?”
She had. She did. But after months of radio silence from anyone in Elyria, the incident had sparked an ember in her heart that was steadily growing into a full blaze. Of what, she didn’t know. Or couldn’t admit.
“I’m just going to the library,” Bridget said.
Before she could head to the door, though, a voice froze her in place.
“The Shaman is clearly avoiding you, so I doubt he’ll show up again there, too,” Nylah said. “And you should learn to hide things better.”
Slowly, Bridget turned to face her sister.
She thought she’d been asleep, but there she stood, holding Bridget’s notebook of all things Elyria.
Maps to the gates, research about the Shaman, lists of things about people and magic she’d written during the nights the fear of not remembering took over her soul.
Dread twisting her stomach, Bridget searched Nylah’s accusatory face, trying to find any hint about how much she’d read.
“Why do both of you act like I have no idea about magic and Elyria?” Nylah asked. “This house is small. I can hear you, even when you whisper.”
Archer’s gaze darted between the two sisters. Clearing his throat, he muttered, “I’m craving a coffee…”
Bridget stared daggers at his back as he left.
This was the one time he could read the room?
Since she’d returned, there was only one subject she’d gone out of her way to avoid with Nylah: Elyria.
She was terrified that if her sister saw just how deeply it had changed her, it would change them.
Every time she’d asked about it, Bridget had been able to change the subject.
Until now. She couldn’t deny the pleading currently plastered on Nylah’s face.
“If you’re going to look for the gate, I want to go with you,” Nylah said, reaching for her boots.
Bridget swiped them before she could. “Absolutely not.”
The words came out harsh, but she wouldn’t apologize. She didn’t want Nylah anywhere near magic… near the thing that had already carved itself into Bridget’s bones and refused to let go. One sister ruined by it was more than enough.
“Why do you act like I’m not a part of this?” Nylah argued. “Like what happened didn’t affect me, too?”
Because you still sleep through the night.
Because you still believe that magic can be something good and true and real… without demanding something awful in return.
So many reasons lingered on Bridget’s tongue.
“You shouldn’t be a part of it,” Bridget said instead. “Cade should have never told you. You don’t deserve to…”
“To what? To know? I’m glad he told me. Knowing was better than sitting around wondering why you disappeared.
Cade promised me you would come back, and even though it was really hard to believe him some days, you did come back.
I know bad things happened to you there.
I hear you have nightmares every night. I see your hands, even when you try to hide them from me.
Just talk to me and stop acting like I’m your stupid kid sister who doesn’t understand. ”
The tears spilling from Nylah’s eyes splintered Bridget’s heart.
She’d never wanted to be the source of his sister’s pain.
How could she think she’d be able to avoid the topic of Elyria with her forever?
Nylah had always been able to see right through her, and had always trusted Bridget to be honest. It was their pact.
The night before Bridget had aged out of the system, she’d promised Nylah she’d always be there, always be truthful.
And now here she was, breaking that promise.
“I don’t think that about you. You’re one of the smartest people I know,” Bridget croaked. “I just want to protect you.”
“Well, I want you to trust me, and tell me the truth… You want to go back, don’t you? That's why you won’t talk about it with me.”
Bridget held back a flinch and shook her head. “No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do. It’s why you have this.” Nylah sniffled, holding up the binder.
“I want to be with you,” Bridget corrected, grabbing her sister by the arms. “Listen to me. The second I remembered in Elyria, there wasn’t a moment that went by I didn’t want to come back to you.”
It was the one truth that had never changed.
“I was always going to come back,” Bridget said, needing Nylah to believe as much as she did.
Nylah jumped forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Bridget’s waist. After a long moment, she whispered, “What about Cade? I miss him, too.”
Even though the words were muffled, the sound of Cade’s name thoroughly cracked Bridget’s chest wide open.
Would she ever be able to hear his name again without falling apart?
“Cade has to stay there,” she choked, barely able to get the words out.
It was all her fault. “And his world is… dangerous. Especially for humans. Neither one of us wants you to go there.”
Nylah pulled back and wiped off her tear-streaked face with the sleeve of her jacket. “Like this world isn’t? That convenience store down the street was robbed last week.”
Bridget almost wanted to laugh. Her sister never missed a thing. “You’re too smart for your own good,” she said, ruffling the top of Nylah’s springy, curly hair.
“Seriously, though, let me help,” Nylah pleaded. “Maybe I’ll be able to find something you can’t.”
Bridget couldn’t resist her sister’s request now, not when every part of her body felt like an exposed nerve. “Fine. Let’s go find Archer first, though. Something tells me he’ll be peeved and make us watch Selling Sunset for the next week if we leave without him.”
Nylah gagged and then quickly put on her boots.
As she watched her, Bridget’s stomach sank.
She really hoped she wouldn’t regret letting Nylah come, or help.
But maybe she was right. Maybe an extra set of eyes would be beneficial.
She wasn’t sure Archer was putting much effort into finding the gate again, anyway…
Behind Nylah, the girl from Bridget’s dream suddenly materialized. Rearing back into the refrigerator, a magnet fell on her head as she slammed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was seeing things. She had to be.
“Are you okay?” Nylah asked.
Bridget opened her eyes. The girl was still there, observing her sister with a puzzled frown. When the girl caught Bridget watching, her face changed. With a playful smirk, she reached toward Nylah and…
“Get over here,” Bridget ordered, yanking Nylah behind her when she didn’t move fast enough.
“Um, ouch. Are you on some kind of Witchy drugs from Archer?”
Bridget glared at her. When she turned back around, the girl had disappeared. The kitchen was silent and untouched. Like nothing had happened at all. “You didn’t see that?”
Frowning, Nylah waved her hand through the air. “I saw you being weird.”
Relief and dread tangling in Bridget’s chest. If Nylah hadn’t seen it, then maybe it was just her. Maybe this was what came after magic—flashbacks, fractures, her mind finally snapping under the weight of everything she’d survived.
She shoved the fear down hard, the way she’d learned to do with pain, with longing, with anything that threatened to break her. There wasn’t room for this… not now. Not with Nylah watching her so closely.
“Right…” Bridget said, pasting on a half-smile. “Let’s go find Archer before I completely lose my mind.”
Outside, the streets of the South End were filled with early morning traffic.
Around them, people hurried past them to get to work or school.
Bridget grabbed Nylah’s hand and led her to Archer’s favorite coffee shop down the street.
As the crowd started to thin, she felt it again.
Eyes. Just like she had yesterday. Bridget’s spine stiffened.
She slowed down her pace and studied the street around her.
She was about to pull Nylah through the park when she heard the last voice she ever expected.
“Hello, Bridget.”
Ice spiraling through her veins, Bridget whipped around and came face to face with Alexia.
She blinked, and then again, to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating.
Reflexively, her gaze darted to the sidewalk behind, half-expecting to see Cora there.
Bridget slammed her eyes shut and tried to calm her racing heart.
Cora was dead. She’d seen her die. Swallowing hard, she returned her focus to the smirking girl in front of her.
“How are you here right now?” Bridget gasped.
A flicker of surprise went through Alexia’s eyes as she gazed at Nylah. “Who’s this?”
Bridget pushed Nylah behind her. Still stunned to see Alexia very much alive and aware, she blurted, “You remember? How?”
“Did you ever have to wear an ugly cape like that?” Nylah whispered to Bridget.
Alexia took a step toward them. “Of course, I do.”
“Don’t come any closer,” Bridget hissed.
“Or what?” Alexia chided. “I’m here to finish what Cora started. I’m here to bring you back.”
In Vassuryn, Alexia had beaten her in most fights. Bridget knew it was why she confidently kept getting closer to her and Nylah and laughed off her threat. Since then, though, she’d trained with Cassia, and taken every self-defense and boxing class she could since they’d moved to Boston.
Jaw clenched, Bridget stepped forward and punched Alexia square on the chin.
When she collapsed to the ground with a loud smack, Nylah gasped. Her sister shuffled over to poke at Alexia’s unmoving body. “Can you teach me how to do that?” she asked.
Bridget glared at her. After making sure no one was watching, she dragged Alexia off the sidewalk. She sat her up and made it look like she was sleeping against the alley’s brick wall.
“Call Archer,” she told Nylah, “we’re going to need help getting her back to the house.”