16. Country Roads
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Country Roads
We circled over Pumpkin Hollow a few times.
The whole town was lit up with string lights stretched between every building, and bodies jostled everywhere in the town square.
Music played from the wooden gazebo at its center, and I saw a witch dancing with what looked like absolutely no one.
But I knew better than to question things like that in a town like Pumpkin Hollow.
Shifters of all varieties prowled amongst the crowd, and that, paired with a ridiculously high amount of pheromones for this time of year, had me flapping my wings to rise higher. Lucia followed easily, then pointed to the tallest building in the area—the post office.
I landed on the roof without a sound, and Lucia and Mugen touched down behind me.
From up here, the whole festival spread out like one of Lucia’s astral charts, each tent and game its own star—the apple-bobbing barrels by the café, the fortune-teller’s tent glowing ominously purple at its seams, a line of kids waiting for donuts with pumpkin faces.
Mugen immediately curled up on the warm chimney flue, supervising with his eyes closed.
Lucia settled on the roof’s edge and pointed things out to me in a low voice.
“That’s the diner’s stand. Victor basically keeps this festival running. I wonder if that’s the new co-owner with him?
“Those ladies are the coven who live up at the old cathedral. Don’t think they’re particularly religious, though.
“That’s Rowan—he makes the best cupcakes—and his new baker.”
She knew everyone. Every stall, every face, every family. Up on this roof, she reminded me of a silent guardian keeping watch over the sleepy New England town.
Below us, the crowd cheered as the band struck up a new song, a faster one. Lucia leaned forward, and through the bond, I felt her light up—like she was down there dancing with them.
The whole square was people touching people, talking to people, being answered by people.
People being heard just as they were.
The bond went cold so fast it made my wings twitch. Longing, and underneath that was something worse.
Certainty.
A certainty that none of this was for her.
“Lucia—”
“I used to practice in the mirror.” Her voice was even.
Her heart wasn’t. “I’d rehearse what to say that first year.
I was convinced that if I just tried hard enough, I could overcome the curse with willpower alone.
I never did.” She pulled her knees up, tucking herself smaller, her gaze fixed on the distance like the festival was one her specimens trapped behind glass. “Stupid.”
I reached for her hand. She let me hold it for one breath, then slid her fingers free and folded them in her lap, pressing the warmth of me out of her palm.
“You should go down there,” she said. “You’ve been cooped up with me for weeks. Nobody here would blink at a mothman on festival night. I’m close enough. You should be okay.”
Like I was the one missing out.
Like she was a door I should walk through and shut behind me.
Well. I hadn’t dragged her out of that manor to watch her disappear on a rooftop. If she wouldn’t come down to the music, I’d bring the music up to her.
I pulled something shiny out of my pocket, and her eyes tracked it.
“More magic tricks, Mothgomery?” A tiny bit of lightness returned to her voice.
“Yeah, the oldest kind of magic.” I raised the harmonica to my lips and did a few quick runs to get any pocket lint out. As she watched intently, I played the first few recognizable notes of my favorite song, adding my own distinct metallic twang, of course.
“John Denver?” she asked.
“Well, I am from West Virginia.” I beamed before continuing.
The song was melodic and happy but somehow held a deep melancholy beneath its upbeat tune. A feeling of home and a place to belong, even if it was far away.
It seemed she was thinking the same thing. She tapped her toes to the beat as her feet hung over the edge of the post office roof, then leaned back, peering up at the sky.
“Bet you’re ready to be home with your brothers. Ready to be free of…Pumpkin Hollow.”
I wasn’t.
This was the longest I’d been away, and they had all been fine. Motthew hadn’t burned down the kitchen, and I hadn’t gotten any alerts about sightings of my brothers, either. They had all stayed out of trouble. Mothigan had even sent me a text saying he’d gotten a job with a traveling carnival.
Night shift.
They were doing just fine without me lurking over them.
They’d been my responsibility since before I’d even known what that meant. But maybe I’d needed them as much as they’d needed me. I’d needed someone to care for so that I didn’t have to focus on what was missing from my life.
Maybe…maybe it was time to let them fly on their own.
But that meant…I would have to do the same.
Go my own way.
Alone.
I looked over at Lucia.
Darkness had ensnared her again. I wished she would share it with me.
I’d hold whatever she needed me to. But she was strong; she’d carried it all by herself for years.
She didn’t need me as much as I wanted her to.
I’d tried to bring her light back, but it had never lasted.
I hadn’t been enough. Not surprising, I was just the delivery driver who had fucked up all her hard work.
Of course she didn’t want me hanging around.
She glanced at me, and for the first time since that first night, our bond flooded with anxiety and worry.
She reached for my hand. “Don’t worry, Hawk. I’ll get you home to them soon. I promise.”
She bit her lip, and that trepidation grew.
“You need to practice the chant.”
“What? Why? I don’t have magic.”
She shook her head. “The ritual channels the magic. The words are just another vehicle. Like the notes in your song. You need to learn them. For redundancy.”
“Redundancy? What for?”
She didn’t speak for a long time, but she couldn’t hide the despair that snuffed out the last bit of light inside her.
“In case…I can’t.”
She leaned against me, hiding her face in my shoulder.
“Whatever you need, Lucia.”
I’d do whatever she needed, even if breaking this bond felt like it was going to hurt worse than healing a torn wing. She’d dealt with so much. I wasn’t going to make this any harder than it needed to be. She deserved better than that.
I was good at putting my needs second.
I could do that for her.