Lost

by P. C. Cast

  “Old Magick!” squawked Anastasia’s raven as he took flight from the cave.

  Movement to his right and left drew Kevin’s attention and he watched the gnarled bark of the old, winter-bare oaks waver, like heat waves lifting from an Oklahoma blacktop road during the summer. From within the trees, sprites materialized. Kevin had to check that his mouth hadn’t flopped open (one glance at Dragon showed him that the Warrior was wide-eyed and opened-mouthed). The tree sprites were the most exquisite things he’d seen since he’d been introduced to Aphrodite in Zo’s world. They were all female. Their skin was as earthy brown as tree bark, but instead of being gnarled and ancient, it looked like velvet. Their hair drifted around each of them, falling well past their waists, in all the shades of leaves: spring’s bright, new lime; summer’s strong, steady jade; and fall’s russet, fuchsia, and gold. They were as unique as the trees from which each of them emerged. At first Kevin thought their bodies were covered in tattoos, but as they moved gracefully closer to him, he realized that they were actually covered in a myriad of different forest plants—ferns, mushrooms, flowers, and moss—instead of clothes.

  The different types of elemental sprites formed a semi-circle around the mouth of the cave where they waited silently in the still-falling freezing rain. The light from the firefly sprites caught the ice as it had already begun to cover the ridge, making their small area glisten, diamond-like.

  “Hello,” Kevin said, hoping the huge smile he couldn’t stop his face from making wasn’t inappropriate. “Um, thank you for coming.”

  A tree sprite stepped forward. She was taller than the others, and her hair was the orange, red, and gold of a mighty oak in the fall. Her body was supple and curvaceous, and barely covered by the delicate fronds of a maidenhair fern.

  “Redbird Boy, we did not expect you to repeat your call, especially when our children are still about your business.”

  Her voice was unexpected—pleasing and sweet, like the shade of an old oak on a hot Oklahoma day, but also filled with a strength that had the bare branches of all of the nearby trees shivering in response.

  “I apologize. I don’t mean to bother you,” Kevin said quickly.

  “You misunderstand. I do not complain. I only wish to show my surprise. We have not been awakened in many ages. The children have enjoyed themselves this night.” She lifted one hand, palm up, cupping the ice so that it coated her dusky skin, turning it from velvet to smoky quartz crystal. “Though water might have been over exuberant.” She shook the ice from her hand and arm, and it rained around her, sparkling in the wan moonlight. “And they did so appreciate the taste of Native blood, diluted though it may be.”

  Kevin heard his g-ma’s derisive hurmp behind him, but he kept his attention focused on the sprite.

  “Your children saved us tonight,” he said. “Please thank them for me.”

  The sprite cocked her head, birdlike, studying him. “You have already thanked them, Redbird Boy, with your blood. You needn’t have called us for that.”

  “That’s not the only reason I called you. I was hoping you could help me again.”

  Her eyes, dark and almond-shaped, sparkled with what Kevin decided was a mischievous light. “What further service do you require, and what payment do you propose, Redbird Boy?”

  “Two things,” Kevin said. “One, we really need this cave to be bigger and better. You know, so, about …” He hesitated and glanced at Dragon, then whispered softly to the Warrior. “About how many people need to fit in there?”

  Dragon just stared at him, still open-mouthed, but Anastasia stepped forward quickly. “It would be lovely if the cave could hold one hundred of us.”

  Kevin thought that sounded like an awful lot to ask, but he turned his attention back to the tree sprite and spoke with way more confidence than he felt. “It would be great if it were big enough to hold about one hundred people.”

  The sprite didn’t so much as blink at the number. “And the second service you require?”

  “What your children did for us tonight—hiding us from the Red and Blue Armies—well, um, could you keep doing that? Please?” When she didn’t respond, he added, “We have our own children and other innocents who need a safe place, and this ridge would be perfect if the cave were bigger. I promise we’ll respect the ridge. We won’t build anything else on it, and we’ll totally pick up after ourselves.”

  “Ah, I see. You request permanent sanctuary.”

  Behind him, Anastasia whispered urgently. “Stop, Kevin. You’re asking too much.”

  Kevin ignored her. He’d already thought about whether he was pushing his luck with the sprites, but he rationalized that he had two gifts to offer—so he might as well ask for two services.

  “Yes. I’m requesting sanctuary—in the form of a new cave, and your protection—but not permanently. I only request it until we restore the balance of Light and Darkness in this world—then we will no longer need to hide.”

  “And what do you offer as payment for these services?”

  Kevin quickly lifted the medicine bag from around his neck, and then held it and its twin out to the sprite. She moved forward—not exactly floating, but her bare feet didn’t stir the ground over which they strode. She came so close to Kevin that he could smell her—she was all the scents of autumn: the cinnamon of falling leaves, the sharp freshness of the first cool day of fall after a long, hot summer, the richness of thick roots reaching far down into fertile earth. Realizing he was staring, he mentally shook himself as she took the bags from him.

  The sprite lifted them to her face, sniffed them, and then her tongue flicked out, tasting each of them. She blinked in surprise.

  “These are from two different worlds.”

  “They are,” he said. “Two different world payments for two different services.”

  “Your payment is more interesting than powerful. Let us see if interesting is enough.”

  The tree sprite turned her back to him, facing the others who had gathered at his call in a loose semicircle around the front of the cave. She spoke quickly to them using the strange language that was more music than words.

  In response one sprite stepped forward from each of the different groups, speaking a series of very similar-sounding whistles and clicks. When they’d all had their turn, the tree sprite bowed her head slightly before turning back to Kevin. When she spoke her voice fell into a sing-song rhythm that reminded him of the voices he’d heard when the other sprites accepted his blood earlier, only this time the power in this sprite’s voice pressed over his skin like the threat of a thunderstorm.

  “We accept this payment—this magick from worlds numbered two

  Formed from ancient wisdom and given with love to you

  In return—

  Earth shall be moved

  Air shall listen

  Water shall watch

  And fire shall warm and protect

  But heed my command, Redbird Boy

  Not one living tree shall you destroy

  Or our deal will forever be void

  I seal this bargain between thee and me

  So I have spoken—so mote it be!”

  Then the tree sprite opened her mouth impossibly wide, giving Kevin a disconcerting view of white, pointed teeth, and she swallowed one of the bags whole. Next, with a movement so quick that for Kevin it was only a blur, she tossed the second bag in the air, where it exploded. Pieces of it began drifting down with the frozen rain, and time slowed as the sprites began flitting about, feeding on the remnants of Grandma Redbird’s medicine bag like a swarm of beautiful but deadly piranhas. All the while they chirped and whistled and sang a wordless but joy-filled song.

  Time sped up again and the tree sprite looked past Kevin to where Grandma Redbird stood within the lip of the cave.

  “Wise Woman, your essence is delicious. You wield your ow
n type of earth power. I would come to you once, should you ever have need of me.”

  Grandma Redbird bowed her head in respectful acknowledgment to the sprite before responding. “Should I ever have a need so great that I am willing to pay your price, I shall call you, lovely tree sprite.”

  “You and this child of your blood may call me Oak.”

  This time when his g-ma’s head bowed, Kevin mimicked her. “Thank you, Oak,” he said.

  “You have already thanked me. And your payment was delicious. Now, your people should leave the cave while we work.”

  Dragon and Grandma Redbird left the cave with Kevin, but Anastasia paused at the mouth of it to call within.

  “Shadowfax, Guinevere! Come on, you two. I know it’s cold and wet out here, but you must leave the cave.

  From deep inside, two cats emerged—a huge, disgruntled-looking Maine coon and a delicate, cream-colored cat Kevin was pretty sure was a Siamese. Both tucked their ears against their heads as they padded to Dragon to jump up into his arms.

  “I’ve got them. Now, move back with us, Anastasia.”

  Dragon’s mate joined them, and Kevin put his arm around his g-ma, trying to protect her as best he could from the bone-chilling rain, but he was still weak, and he found himself staggering unless he leaned heavily on her. Suddenly Dragon passed the two cats to his mate, and then he was beside Kevin, grabbing his other arm, steadying him enough so that he could climb up between two boulders, which almost shielded them from the wet. With Dragon on one side of him and his grandma on the other, Kevin watched as in less time than it had taken to run the Red Army from the ridge, the sprites worked a miracle, and then, without another word, they dissolved back into the trees and rocks and the dark, frigid night.

  9

  Zoey

  “It’s only been a few days since Kevin left, but it feels like months. Please, Nyx, watch over him and don’t let him get into too much trouble.” I lit the purple candle and then placed it at the feet of the exquisite statue of Nyx that stood as the focal point of the courtyard between the school buildings and the Goddess’ temple. It flickered there, adding its happy little light to the other votive offerings, each representing a prayer that had been lifted to our Goddess. Then I stepped back to sit on the carved stone bench beside my BFF, Stevie Rae.

  “Yes, Nyx, please keep an eye on Z’s brother in the Other World,” Stevie Rae said. “And I know what ya mean, Z. It’s this weather. Two days ago we were buried in snow, and today it was almost sixty degrees. That makes it seem like lots more time has passed. Hey, you know what’s even weirder than Oklahoma weather?”

  “Nope, ’cause OK weather is the weirdest.”

  “I know, right? But the even weirder thing is that I missed it. A lot. I mean, Chicago weather can be super cray too. But not Okie cray. I missed the ice and wind and how thunderstorms sweep in across the land like a stampede from above.”

  “Uh-huh,” I replied automatically, my eyes trapped by the way the candlelight played across the marble skin of Nyx while my mind was far away … a world away, actually.

  “You’d be surprised what all you miss when you’ve left your home.”

  “Yep.” My gaze went from the statue up to the perfectly clear, starlit night.

  “Like goathead thistles. You know, the kind that hurt as bad to pull ’em out of your skin as they did goin’ in.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Oh, and ticks. I missed them a bunch.”

  “Yeah, I hear ya.”

  “Um, Z. No, you don’t.”

  “Right.”

  “Zoey Redbird, stop gatherin’ wool in that head of yours!”

  Stevie Rae shoved my shoulder with hers. Hard.

  “Hey! What’s that for?”

  “Z, seriously? What’d I just say?”

  I chewed my cheek. “Um, something about wool? Which doesn’t make much sense. Are you okay? I was serious when I said you and Rephaim don’t have to go back to Chicago. You wouldn’t have had to stay there this past year if I’d known you were miserable.”

  Stevie Rae turned to face me on the bench. “Zoey, you trust me, don’t you?”

  “Of course I trust you.”

  “Then please tell me what’s wrong.”

  I sighed. “There’s nothing—”

  Stevie Rae’s hand shot up, palm out like a stop sign. “Nope. Tell that to someone else. I know it’s a lie and after all we’ve been through, it’s just insultin’.”

  “Hey, you know I’d never insult you on purpose,” I said, feeling like crap that I’d made my bestie feel like crap.

  “Then tell me what’s wrong.”

  I sighed. “I’m worried about Kevin. Well, Other Kevin. Not the Kevin over here. He and I are actually going to meet at Andolini’s for pizza before his winter break is over.”

  “Is that it?”

  “Well, yeah. Pretty much. I mean, we still don’t know what caused the roses to turn all black and disgusting before Aphrodite’s vision, but if it was Neferet I’d expect her to do more. Anything more. And the Warriors guarding the grotto say nothing’s so much as stirred there.”

  “The roses went back to normal.”

  “What? They did? How do you know that?”

  Stevie Rae grinned. “The rose garden is another of the zillion things I missed about Tulsa. Rephaim surprised me last night and we went on a walk through the gardens after we had dinner at the Wild Fork. It’s when he gave me this.” She tapped the silver necklace twinkling around her neck. Hanging from the sparkling chain was the perfect replica of the state of Oklahoma as a little charm.

  “Aww, that’s pretty. I didn’t even notice it. Sorry about that.”

  “Z, there’s a lot you haven’t been noticing for the past few days. I … I wish you’d let me help.”

  “There’s nothing you can do. I just have to figure out a way to stop worrying about Kevin.” And thinking about Neferet—the Neferet who’s over there, in charge, and probably slaughtering zillions of innocents like she slaughtered Other Zoey! But I didn’t let my mouth speak those words aloud. If I did I was afraid I wouldn’t stop—wouldn’t stop talking about Neferet—wouldn’t stop knowing I needed to help Kevin.

  And then there was Heath. Alive Heath. Other Heath, who was mourning that Other Zoey I’d watched Neferet murder.

  “Just Kevin?” Stevie Rae said.

  “Yes. No.”

  “Uh, Z, which is it?”

  “No,” I said miserably. “There’s also stupid Neferet and whatever fresh hell she’s plotting. Plus, well, Heath.” Then I forced myself to hurry on. “And my mom. She’s alive over there too. And there’s another Grandma Redbird. Can you imagine how hard she took my death?”

  “Z! There you is!” Kramisha clattered up on a bright-red pair of knee-high stiletto boots. “Move over, Stevie Rae. I got lots more junk in my trunk than you skinny white girls.” She hip-bumped Stevie Rae, who slid over next to me, and we scooted to make room for Kramisha.

  “Hey, I’m not white. Or at least I’m not one hundred percent white,” I said.

  “Sorry. Forgot you got you some brown in there, Z. Your butt’s still skinny, though.”

  “I like your new boots,” Stevie Rae said. “They’re the exact color of your wig. How do you do that?”

  “Talent. Pure talent. And, girl, these ain’t new boots. But this catsuit is. What do ya think? Meow!” She pretend-hissed at Stevie Rae, who giggled.

  “Kramisha, I love you! And I missed you like I missed T-Town,” said Stevie Rae.

  “You gonna love me even more in just a sec. Z, I want to go to Chicago.”

  “Huh?” I said. “But you’ve barely started the redo on the Depot Restaurant.”

  “Look, we all know Damien and Other Jack can do a better job with this redo than me. Z, they gay. And they called in more gays
.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Kramisha, that’s a terrible stereotype.”

  “Tell me it ain’t true and I’ll shut my face.” She paused, and when I didn’t say anything because, well, Damien and Other Jack and Toby, the OKEQ director, were all super awesome at interior design, she continued. “Where was I? Oh, yeah.” Kramisha turned to Stevie Rae. “Do you wanna go back to Chicago?”

  “Well, um, not really, not permanently, but Z and I already talked about me returning to Tulsa for good as soon as I get things settled at the Chicago House of Night.”

  “Settled meaning pick your replacement?” Kramisha asked.

  “Yeah, I guess. Right, Z?”

  “Sure. Unless you already have someone in mind, like Damien did,” I said.

  “I wish I did, but I don’t. There’re a few High Priestesses who have potential, but no one who stands out,” said Stevie Rae.

  “I’ll do that,” Kramisha said.

  “Do what? You’re confusing the crap outta me, Kramisha. Just tell me the bottom line,” I said.

  “Fine. The bottom line is I can’t go back to that depot. Not now. I need me some time. I … I still hear them screaming.” Kramisha paused and brushed a few bright red strands of hair from her face with a trembling hand. “Stevie Rae’s a red vamp High Priestess. She and Rephaim fit good at the depot. The fledglings like them, which I think is kinda weird, ’cause he’s a bird part of the time, but whatever. I don’t like to judge.” She shrugged. “And you know I can organize the shit outta stuff. I’ll go to Chicago and get it organized and settled, and when that’s done maybe the screaming I hear at night will be done too, and I can come home for good,” Kramisha finished in a rush.