by Alicia Fabel
Annessa dropped the article onto the counter. “What possibilities?”
Elion didn’t answer but his pained expression said enough.
“They think I killed her and burned down our house.” Annessa put a hand on the island to steady herself. “Why would they think that?... Oh, I know. Because I left the scene. Left the state. Of course they’re suspicious.”
“It’s not just that,” Elion told her. “A witness came forward.”
Annessa’s head buzzed. “A witness?”
“The realtor.”
That made no sense. “She wasn’t even there.”
“No, but she saw your fall. She’s claiming she witnessed an occult ritual after. It doesn’t condemn you, but it doesn’t help either.”
“Then I need to go back. I have to…do something.”
“You can’t,” Elion argued.
“Uh yeah, I can.”
“We believe the Phyton set this up. Your home was burning before the Academy team arrived. By that point, it was already too late to spin the situation a different way.”
“You think they’re trying to draw me out.”
Elion nodded.
“And you think they’re here? That’s why my shopping trip keeps getting canceled?” Annessa’s voice rose more on that last question than she was proud of.
“No,” Elion assured. “Phyton won’t risk coming into town. There are too many guilded around. We’re more worried about a tourist recognizing you.”
Annessa glanced out the window and the mounds of white. “Tourists come to this ninth circle of hell?”
“People like winter in the mountains,” Elion explained.
“People are idiots,” Annessa retorted.
“Maybe, but there are a couple of ski resorts near here, and they are packed for the season. So until news dies down a bit, you have to keep your head down.”
“Are you guys any closer to hunting down my shadow yet?”
“It may take some time,” replied Elion.
“How much time? Because I know if I stay here too long, I won’t be able to leave at all.”
“It’s not like that,” Elion assured. “You’ll be able to leave.”
“You can’t leave, though, right?”
“I came to Florida,” he pointed out.
“And then raced right back here like you were on a retractable leash.”
“There are things that make leaving the Academy grounds complicated for me,” Elion said.
“Like this?” She unthinkingly reached out a hand and grazed his jaw with her fingertips. It wasn’t as smooth as it had looked a few days before. Elion’s eyes widened. Annessa yanked her hand away and stepped back. Elion didn’t move a muscle, but his obsidian eyes followed her in a way that made her stomach flop. Annessa cleared her throat and focused on the memory of what he’d done to her. She definitely wouldn’t let herself appreciate his sexy gypsy face. Nope. “I don’t want to become like you.”
“You won’t. And I won’t quit until you are on your way to a new life.”
“What am I supposed to do until then?”
His lips twitched. “Take up knitting?”
“Screw you.”
His teasing smile twisted into regret. “You have to know this is not what I wanted for you. If there had been any other way…”
“You would’ve met me that night like we’d planned, instead of taking off with my best friend?” Annessa shot at him.
“Yes.”
Annessa’s chest wrenched. “Go away.”
Elion nodded, but before he left, he said softly, “As soon as we have your shadow, I’ll get you out of here.”
When he was gone, Annessa was swallowed again by the silence. She’d never experienced silence so loud that it was deafening. The sun shone, making the white expanse outside sparkle as if a glitter bomb had gone off. It was beautiful. But when she pulled open the back door, a burst of frigid air rushed in. She closed it. All those blue skies and sunshine through the window were false advertising. She pressed her face up to the glass, trying to spy the road that supposedly led to campus. Her breath fogged up the glass and she pulled back.
She couldn’t imagine how students managed to get between classes in that stuff. The amount of clothing they’d need would be ridiculous. Her lips quirked at the thought of a bunch of puffy-coated abominable students scuttling around. Either that or they were all missing body parts from frostbite.
Annessa gaped when she spotted a man leading a black bear out of the trees and across the yard. He wore only a t-shirt and jeans. Both man and bear walked across the top of the snow banks as if they weighed nothing. When they moved out of sight, Annessa leaned outside to see where they were going. She immediately slipped and faceplanted into a snowbank. And what everyone said about soft, fluffy snow was bogus. It was like shards of glass that sliced and burned.
Stupid mountain.
Stupid psychic people who couldn’t feel the cold.
She brushed off the snow and moved away from the door. Being trapped in her hometown and taking care of Aunt Jess had been rough. Finding out she’d actually given up everything for an evil revenant had been horrifyingly painful. After all that, being caged in Elion’s home was proving to be the final straw. If she didn’t get out of that house soon, she was going to spiral into madness.
Annessa eyed the row of keys hanging innocently by the door that led to the garage. All she needed was a hat and a scarf, to be unrecognizable. She wouldn’t even go far. Literally, she just needed a few hours to feel back in control of herself again, with no one to dictate what she could and couldn’t do. But she couldn’t even walk in the snow. She had no idea how people drove in it. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t give it a try if she got any more desperate. But she wasn’t quite there yet. She turned away from the keys to wander through the house. Again.
Nothing in the library was written in a language she could read, except for textbooks and a few self-help books. Blah. She wasn’t that desperate either. Instead, she climbed the stairs and made her way to the end of the hall opposite her bedroom. A finger-painted sign on the door read Elion. She might not be ready for grand theft auto yet, but she’d reached bored-enough-to-snoop. The walls were covered with various posters and remnants of a boy’s life. The comforter featured skateboards. A solar system hung from the ceiling in one corner. Annessa slipped inside and closed the door behind her.
Pictures of Elion with his parents and friends lined his dresser. As he grew older, his smile shrank. Annessa paused at the picture of an elderly man, who could easily be Elion’s grandfather. He must be pretty great, because he was strapped into a go-cart with an ecstatic smile. Mr. Marks sat in the passenger seat. He looked distinctly terrified. And then there was a picture of her and Elion on the beach. His arm was slung over her shoulders while they cheesed it up for the camera. That was before their friendship had changed, grown into something more. Things had been so much simpler when they’d spent their treasured weeks together searching the beach for shells and horseshoe crabs.
Annessa shook herself and moved away from the dresser. She ran a hand over the surfboard propped in the corner and perused the row of books on a low shelf. They were mostly classics—things her teachers had assigned in high school. So basically, stories she’d skimmed to pass tests but hadn’t been interested in actually reading. It went to show how bored she was that they sounded good now. Then she noticed a box, with shells and dried coral glued to the lid. She tipped the lid open and almost closed it.
Masochistic curiosity propelled her to set aside the lid and leaf through the pile of envelopes. All were addressed to Elion in her handwriting, which had evolved over the years. There was one letter for each month they were apart. Somewhere among the ashes in Florida were the remains of the ones Elion had sent her. It was their way of counting the weeks until the next annual Marks family beach trip.
In the back, she found the last few that she’d sent him. Pathetically written after everyth
ing that had happened the year before. Elion had never replied to those. Part of her had hoped he hadn’t gotten them. But obviously, he had. And he’d kept them. So either their friendship had meant something to him, or he kept them for when he needed a good laugh. Annessa crammed the lid back onto the box, grabbed her book selections, and escaped the room that smelled like cinnamon and seashells—the scents of Elion.
By the time Annessa made it to her room, she’d lost her desire to read. Instead, a chill settled around her. So she climbed into bed and pulled the covers over herself. It wasn’t late, but it was already getting dark. In the morning, one way or another, she was getting out of that house.
Elion propped his pitchfork against the greenhouse and shook the mulch fibers from his clothes. After carting a mountain of mulch and rotating the compost, all he wanted to do was go to his dorm room and crash. But that was not in the cards for him. He saluted Wilfred, instead of flipping off the old man like he wanted to, and trudged toward the training field. The demanding bastard, who was head groundskeeper and astrology professor, was particularly ass-holey toward Elion. And that week had been worse than normal—retribution for Elion playing hooky to race across the country on behalf of a norm. No matter what it took, Elion was getting a different work-study assignment the next year.
Elion groaned at the sight of the empty field behind the training center. His mom was inside, no doubt, preparing some new way to torment him. A couple of days before, he’d managed to screw up and push the timeline back a day. He’d had to complete his work-study obligations for a again and wait for time to catch back up to him. He’d wanted to throw himself into the wood chipper. As soon as he walked through the doors, his mom didn’t disappoint.
She thunked a pot of dirt onto the ledge behind a sparring mat and said, “Push the seed’s timeline forward, but don’t push it out of time.”
In other words, age the seed without accidentally sending it forward in time. “I suck at this.”
“Which is why you’re practicing.” She folded her arms. “I’ll be in my office grading papers. Call me when there’s a flower in that pot.”
Sure. No problem. Elion scowled and began sifting through the timelines around him. Every living thing possessed one. As expected, the seed’s was tiny. Which would make it tricky to hold onto. Instead of pushing the seed down its timeline, which would just send it to the future, he needed to pull the timeline toward him. Like pulling a thread through the eye of a needle. In his mind, he held the life of the seed in place and tugged the timeline. It didn’t want to move. They never did. If timelines were threads, they were riddled with knots. Sweat coated his brow as he strained to pull the timeline without snapping it.
Elion let the seed’s timeline drop when he felt his own timeline slipping. He’d been so focused on the stupid pot that he’d lost track of himself. He wanted to let his mom know this exercise was too dangerous, but she’d say he just needed more practice. Once Elion had his timeline firmly in hand again, he turned toward the mirror. His grip had slipped enough that he’d passed sixteen-years-old and moved right to eighteen, based on the new scruff. Looked like he got to start shaving regularly again. And unfortunately, his mom would notice. So basically, he’d already failed her assignment. The whole point was to manipulate timelines without losing track of his own. He glowered at the pot and took a breath.
This time, Elion kept a death grip on his own timeline when he took hold of the seed. Instead of pulling smoothly, he yanked the thin timeline. Either he pulled too hard, or he didn’t hold the seed firmly enough because it slipped free and popped out of the current time, along with the pot it was in. One second it was there, and the next it was gone. And he had no idea how far back he’d sent it.
Dammit. Elion hissed through his teeth at the sudden burning along his arms. Three welts rose on his skin, but almost as soon as the injuries appeared, they vanished.
“What happened?” his mom asked tightly from her office door.
“I lost hold of it.” He kept his head angled away from her, in no mood for even more lecturing. “Do you know when it showed back up?”
“According to the note that just popped into my box, three days ago. During a sparring match,” said his mom. “You broke Gia’s toe.”
That explained the welts. Gia obviously knew he was to blame and had sent her bees to let him know that she was not happy about it. Even though it had technically happened three days before, he’d had to experience it as the timeline shifted.
His mom produced another pot. “Try again. You’re better than that.”
Elion groaned.
His mom put the new pot on a ledge in a dusty corner. At least if he screwed up again, it wouldn’t injure another student. Which was good thinking because by the time his mom was out of pots, Elion hadn’t aged a single seed.
7
Annessa frowned at the note on the kitchen island.
Today is not a good day to go into town. The staff mentioned you might like some reading material, so I thought you’d enjoy this. We will try again tomorrow.
It was signed by Mr. Marks. He’d left her an astrology textbook. Apparently, the staff had observed her wanderings the previous day. Even though she hadn’t noticed them. On top of being disturbing, it made the itch to get away from prying eyes grow exponentially.
If she left immediately, maybe she could find a café. She was sick of oatmeal—the Marks’ breakfast staple. What she wouldn’t give to find a grocery store and load up on Pop-Tarts. Her mouth watered. That was it. Snow or no, she was taking a trip into civilization. Annessa pulled back from the counter and froze. All the keys were gone. In their place was a sticky note.
We’ll try for tomorrow.
What the for real heck? They’d used their psychicness against her. Well, screw that. It was time for a chat with Mr. Marks.
Annessa marched up to her room and put on every scrap of clothing she still owned. Then, looking like a mangy abominable, she headed out the front door. She eyed the formidable gates down the drive but knew she couldn’t walk the handful of miles to town before she froze. She could, however, hike over to campus and refute her incarceration with the headmaster himself.
A narrow road wound off to one side of the mansion before being swallowed by a line of timber. Remembering the lumbering black bear gave her pause, but then again, it had seemed tame enough. She just hoped if they did use bears as guard dogs, they were of the teddy persuasion.
Elion fell heavily onto the bench beside Axton. The sound of his breakfast tray hitting the table rang across the quad.
“I heard you up showering in the middle of the night,” Ax raised a brow. “Have some exciting dreams?”
Elion rolled his eyes. “It was for my muscles. If Wilfred doesn’t ease up soon, I’m going to need a walker.”
“How long do you think before the professors stop punishing you?” asked Ax.
“Not before Ness is gone,” Elion answered.
Samara sipped from a steaming mug. “Have you been over to see her?”
“Pretty sure that’s part of why I can barely stand at this point,” Elion said ruefully. “If I can’t walk, I can’t go see her.”
Ax let out a low whistle. “That’s some diabolical plans right there.”
“They don’t need to worry.” Elion stirred his oatmeal. “She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
“I’ve been wanting to go see her,” Samara admitted.
“That’s probably not a good idea,” Ax said gently.
“I know.” Samara twisted the mug between her hands. “I would say the wrong things. That’s why I’m staying away, but I feel bad.”
“Maybe I should go for a visit,” Ax volunteered.
Elion raised a brow. “And risk running into my mother?”
“Pshh.” Ax waved his hand to dismiss the worry and then said, “I meant during Academy hours when your mom is on campus. Do I look like a fool?”
“You look like a fool to me,” Axto
n’s little sister piped up from down the table.
“No one asked you, little girl,” Ax threw back.
Quinn glared daggers at her brother over the edge of her book. Ax grinned. Elion turned his focused to his breakfast. He had early classes and couldn’t afford to piss off the professors more by being late.
“Oh no.” Quinn gasped and lost focus as a gaze overtook her.
Elion took another bite. Nothing else he could do until she was finished peering through time. When it was over, she would tell them what she saw. Whatever it was, made her eyes widen.
Quinn hated the attention her unusually pale eyes got. Strangers would comment on them only for her to snap something along the lines of, “Yes, brown girls can have blue eyes too. Go away.”
Quinn blinked, returning to the present, and said, “You guys need to hurry.”
“That’s what I’m doing.” Elion shoveled food into his mouth.
Quinn pushed a glossy black curl off her forehead and adjusted her glasses. “I didn’t see it until now. So she must’ve decided on a whim.”
“Who decided what?” Axton asked, but Elion knew. He’d asked Quinn to keep an eye on Ness.
“Where?” Elion asked, jumping up from the table.
“Cinnamon Grove.”
Samara’s mug thumped against the table. “She’s headed for campus?”
Quinn shook her head. “She’s already here.”
8
Annessa relaxed when she was within the shelter of the trees. With the wind blocked, it didn’t feel like her face was going to freeze off anymore. For a minute, it was kind of beautiful, everything draped in snow. But then, if she thought about it too hard, it made her claustrophobic. For a girl who was used to seeing the horizon, it felt like the trees were pressing in on her. She couldn’t see more than a few hundred feet with the way it wove back and forth. All of a sudden, the beauty took on an eeriness. The gnarled branches seemed to reach for her. And it was silent, as if the trees held their breath. Hairs on the back of Annessa’s neck prickled. She peeked over her shoulder. She was alone, but she sped up anyway.
