“Red,” Katy said with a sense of urgency.
I glanced back, eyes following her finger to the other window.
“What is it?” I asked, moving to stand beside her. But as my gaze followed the crudely drawn birds to the other open window and went past them, outside, my shoulders came down from their high, tense perch, forcing a release of tears.
“That is a mighty strange occurrence,” Katy said.
I watched a large murder of crows lift away from the gutter outside my window and flood toward town. Standing here, it almost looked like each bird had peeled right off the surface of my wall, taking a wish, a memory over the horizon with them.
“They’re going to get George now, aren’t they?” Katy asked.
“I think so.” I put my head on her shoulder. “But who will tell Alex?”
“I don’t know,” she said in a hollow voice. “Maybe he already knows.”
I hoped so. It was all I could do.
Katy moved to the window then and leaned on the ledge to watch the birds. They thinned out, one by one, until they were just a distant flicker. Then she turned to me and smiled. “Red?”
“Yeah?”
The smile grew. She leaned out the window a little and waved her hands at the crows. “Fly, my pretties,” she shouted in a snarly voice, then cackled like an evil witch. “Fly!”
As sad as I was, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Thanks, Katy.”
She touched my arm, offering me an understanding smile. “You know, it might not mean much coming from me, but if George really was trapped in his body, it must be nice for him now… being free.”
“I don’t want to do that,” I said softly, watching the birds become a pin of black in the distance, while Luther and Theo stood out in the drive, obviously as confused by the event as we were.
“Do what?”
“Find a reason for this. It happened. It sucks. But sometimes things just suck, Katy.”
“I don’t want it to suck.”
“And yet it does, no matter what reasons we give ourselves.”
“That’s sad.”
“Yes,” I said, thoughtful. “It’s very sad. But it just has to be sad, because if I try to make it anything else, I’ll never get over the being sad.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” she said. “But how can you get over being sad?”
I thought about that for a moment, shrugging one shoulder when it came to me. “Cry, I guess. Until all the sadness cries out of me.”
Katy offered me her arms and a shoulder, so I put my head on it again and let the sadness out.
***
There was a difference tonight. Last night, before I found out about George, running without Luther—essentially on my own, save for the goons tailing me—I felt a sense of freedom I’d never felt before. Like being allowed to catch a bus to the city by yourself for the first time. I think, in a lot of ways, I truly grew up last night when I assumed wolf form and tore through the forest, and I think, hearing about George today, I was finally shown the reality of what growing up meant.
Tonight, even though Flotsam and Jetsam kept a good fifty paces behind me as I ran, I struggled to feel the excitement. I thought nothing could taint the feeling of being a wolf. But I was wrong.
Jaded by the lack of enthusiasm in my run, I slowed to a walk and put my nose to the ground, searching for a familiar scent. In times like these I needed my pack. I needed to feel united. I needed my mom or, if not her, maybe my husband. If I could find him tonight—after he’d turned—he might be willing to keep me company for a while.
In the distance I could hear the pack howling to the call of their alpha. I knew Mom would be wondering where I was if she went to the valley and looked up to see Luther alone on the rock. I hoped she’d break off in search of me when she saw I wasn’t there. She’d be worried, most likely—especially knowing her letter would have arrived.
All around me trees seemed to claim this part of the forest, sticking for dear life to where each of the four hills of Ravenswood met. I felt small here, and insignificant, but the loneliness wasn’t completely awful. The air was fresh—cold and wet—the promise of rain making the dry snow seem like just a passing phase. I stopped by a rock and shut my eyes, letting the sheer height of the trees express the magic of Mother Nature.
A twig broke behind me then and I jerked my head around to scan the night. I could just see the outline of the two goons sitting in the shadows where the moonlight couldn’t reach. Very little snow fell here in this spot, the trees thick and born close together to keep out all light, maybe even rain, as if they hated the world and just wanted to be left alone. I knew how they felt sometimes.
When another twig broke a bit farther away this time, Flotsam and Jetsam made themselves visible for a moment before darting into the forest to investigate. I stood still as a deer and quietly sniffed the breeze. And then I caught it. A scent. Mom.
I took off at an excited run, my tongue hanging out as if it would make me run faster, jumping rocks and fallen logs and ignoring the sharp sting of twigs sticking between my toes. Her scent was different tonight; worried. It was almost as if she brushed up against every tree down the slope of the hill, marking it with an emotion. The scent got stronger as I heard the river rushing. Just over the next rise between the two steep hills there was a valley drop and a giant lake. Forbidden territory. Human territory. Hunting territory. Surely she wouldn’t be silly enough to go down there.
I proceeded with extreme caution, my senses on high alert, taking in every smell, every sound and stopping at the slightest rustle or whisper of wind. I could smell her here somewhere.
The scent led me down to the rushing waters where the river ran off the drop and poured its sorrows into the great lake below. Light was permitted here in the parting of the trees, and though the waters ran hard and fast I could still make out wavy reflections of a pure white moon closer to the banks.
I stood for a moment, waiting. I knew she was there; I could feel it. Then, in the dim shadows, from among the trees across the other side of the river, a crystal white wolf with darker patches stepped out hesitantly.
Mom, I whined, not aware until right then that wolves could communicate. It wasn’t a language or even mind-reading, but it was an… understanding, of sorts.
She kept her head low, skulking shakily forward, eyes scanning every inch of the forest behind me. I wanted to leap over the water and run to her side, but something about her body language told me not to.
I shouldn’t be here.
I narrowed my eyes at her, not sure if she spoke to me or if I imagined it. I couldn’t call it a voice that I heard; but again, I understood it.
Why are you here? I asked.
I needed to make sure you were okay.
I’m okay, I assured her, even though it was a lie.
A deep, menacing growl started behind me then and another rumbled on my right, a pair of teeth-baring wolves creeping up defensively along my sides. I tried to tell them that she was my mother, but as they shot forward and ran to the water I realized they were only too aware who she was. Mom stood her ground, barking like a rabid dog, warning them not to cross those violent waters.
She’s my daughter. Let me see her.
It is against the rules. Take it up with Luther.
She needs me. She’s grieving.
She is not your problem now. Leave.
Leave or be challenged, Flotsam added.
Mom looked at me apologetically. It wasn’t worth it. I knew what a challenge meant: fight to the death. She would never let me see something like that. She would never be so naïve to think she could win.
I love you, April.
I whimpered, approaching the banks, but the goons turned their heads and bared their teeth at me, sending me skulking away to the safety of the tree line. I love you too, Mom, I thought, feeling worse now than I did before. I wished she hadn’t come. I wished I hadn’t followed her scent. Now, it would only make it hurt more,
like a scab had been picked clean open.
The goons made a show of force with a firm buck into my shoulder, one jamming his snout into my rib to make me move, so I followed them back up the slope and into the dense forest again, where the light couldn’t reach us. I didn’t know wolves could cry real tears until I had to leave my Mom behind again, but it felt like maybe the saddest thing in the world to know that we could.
***
Last night, although it didn’t feel like it at the time, it did help to run. And it did help to see my mom for a moment and know she was okay. But when day broke and the usual routine played out, I just couldn’t bring myself to function. It felt wrong, like I was betraying George somehow.
I stared out the window, numb, stroking the tassel on the edge of the pillow I was hugging, while Max chewed my dangling left foot.
“Can anyone go there when they die?” Katy asked in a soft, reflective voice.
I looked at her where she sat opposite me on the window seat, hugging a pillow too. “To the land of lake and sea?”
“Yes. When I die, I think I’d like to go where George went.”
“Of course you can. You can go now,” I said.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Close your eyes and picture a world under water—with grand gold castles and parties every night.”
“Oh!” Katy gasped so loudly that my eyes flew open, the land of sea stripping back for the stark white sun reflecting off a cold day.
“What is it?”
She grinned, her eyes shut tight, head angled as though she was looking at something beside her. “I can see it. Just like you described!”
I laughed. “Are there green birds above you?”
“Yes, with red on the tips of their wings—just like you said.” Her hand landed on my knee. “Oh, Red, I’d love to see such strange birds.”
“You mean you’ve never seen a parrot?”
“Only ravens. And crows.”
With that, I hopped up and grabbed my computer from the marble table across the room, then sat back down in the window seat beside Katy and fired it up. I couldn’t search up too many things on the Internet, but I was sure Luther’s Net Nanny program would allow birds if it allowed YouTube.
I brought up images of parrots and chose the nicest one, turning the screen to show Katy. I’d expected to see her face light up, but it dropped and she looked shocked, leaning closer to the computer.
“They’re real? Like, really real?”
“Yes.”
“I want to touch one.” Her finger softly brushed over the screen. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful and colorful in all my life. Except for you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, when I saw you come here in your red cloak, I thought you might be the color that fell from a rainbow, and then they told me you were the new wife.” Her head moved slowly from side to side. “I heard Luther say it himself. You’re the prettiest bride he’s had. You remind him of Mrs. Reave—that’s what Theo told me.”
“Really?”
“Mm-hm.” She nodded. “Have you seen her likeness in the Great Hall?”
“No. I was too busy trying to figure out which wives would still be alive.”
“Only Miss Cooper. But she took ill giving birth, and Mrs. Potter doesn’t think she’ll live the rest of the week.”
I didn’t know Anne, but I wanted to cry for her then. “Can you take me to see her?”
“No way. It’s against the rules.”
“So is wearing jeans, but…” I showed her my jeans and red sweater.
Katy smiled, rolling her eyes at me. “I can take you there. But why? What does a new wife want to see an old wife for?”
“Look around, Katy. I got bad news yesterday. I lost someone very dear to me, and yet, instead of crying alone on my bed, you brought me tea and chocolate cake.” I grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze to thank her. “But if it weren’t for you, I’d be all alone. This would be one of the worst days of my life. If Anne is dying, she’d be scared right now. And I doubt Luther is there to comfort her.”
“I know he’s not,” she said, eyes wide. “He’s packing his things.”
“Why?”
“He always stays well away when a wife has a girl.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. He just does. He goes out hunting for a few weeks.”
“In wolf form?”
“No. He can only turn on a full moon, remember?”
“Oh yeah, that’s right.” It was just so odd and unnatural, almost as if he wasn’t really wolf. He was so much like the myths and legends it was hard to believe he wasn’t also allergic to silver bullets. “So has he left yet?”
“No. We thought he might stay to finish your union tonight—or even last night—but when I went to the kitchen to get the cake, Mrs. Potter told me he’s leaving at sundown. Why do you ask?”
“Because I’m going to see Anne if I have to sniff out her room myself. When he’s gone, you have to take me there.”
She paled.
“Please?”
Her shoulders dropped, softening her face. “What if Theo finds out?”
“I won’t tell if you don’t.”
“It’s not that simple, Red. He can read me, and—”
“Do you think he’d care?” My voice pitched high in desperation. “From what I’ve seen of him so far, he isn’t like his dad—”
“He’s not. He’s open minded and—”
“He adapted with the times. I know he doesn’t agree with what happens here.”
“Yes, but he’s powerless to do anything,” she said. “Did you know he was sent to flog you last week?”
“What?”
She nodded. “Luther saw you in the kitchen, and not only is it against the rules to mingle with servants or to be in any room but your own, he saw you in your modern attire, Red. Theo was sent to flog you, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it, so he told his father he spoke with you instead and you’d learned your lesson. Only… he didn’t speak with you, did he?”
I shook my head. “He came to my door the other night, but I was about to go to bed, so he said he’d come back another time.”
“Well, consider this me warning you. If Luther sees you in those clothes again, he’ll make sure you don’t forget the rules.”
“Why doesn’t he just throw them out if he wants me to stop wearing them?” I asked, folding my arms.
“Because that’s not his style. He’d rather you have the temptation and choose to follow the rules out of respect for him. Either that, or you would choose to break them and he might enjoy punishing you for it.”
“Is he really like that?”
“He is a complex man, Red. You should never feel safe. Never feel like you understand him.”
“Believe me, I don’t feel safe, but I do think I’m getting to know him. He taught me how to take wolf form so, in my book, he’s pretty cool.”
Katy smiled. “Maybe you’ll be the one to bring him back from that darkness.”
“The darkness?”
“Theo says his father became a cold man after his wife died, that before that he was kind and loving. A good father. Good man.”
“So he wasn’t born with this god complex?”
“I don’t know what that is, but I know Theo is unhappy with his father. He grows more unsettled here as each decade rolls by.”
“Decade?” I wiped my cheek where the stale tears had dried. “It’s only taken me two months to feel like that.”
“I wouldn’t know any different. I’ve never been outside these gates.”
I bit my teeth together, shaking my head as the anger filled me up. “It shouldn’t be this way, Katy. I should have been there for my friend George when he died, and for Alex and Plain. You should have gone to school and grown up like a normal kid, and when I have my first baby, I should be able to raise it. Things around here have to change.”
“They won’t. They never have.”
“I don’t care,” I said, resolved to do something. “When Luther leaves today, I’m going to see Anne, and then I’m going to start thinking of ways to make things change around here. If he isn’t willing to accept this new era, then I’ll just have to force it.”
Part Three: Chapter Seven
The Sheep Bares Its Wolfish Grin
Luther came to my room with his angry face on, and I thought for a moment that he’d caught wind of my plan to see Anne, but when his ugly goon waltzed in behind him and shut the door my cells froze up and stopped all thought going through my brain.
“Luther?”
“Sit down,” he insisted as I went to stand.
I hadn’t fully adjusted my height, so I just rolled back down the way I stood and pulled Max to my lap.
Luther gave a half-glance back at the man and then thrust his head into a short nod. The goon limped forward and snatched Max from my arms, stepping away without turning his back to either of us.
“What are you doing? Why did you take Max?”
“Who is Alex?”
“Pardon?”
“Answer the question.”
“He was my best friend before I left home.”
“Did you see him last night?”
“Last night?” My eyes widened, heart in my throat. Why would he think that?
“When you went running last night, did you, or did you not escape custody for a period of time?”
“Um…” I looked at the goon. “I wasn’t trying to escape, I...”
“April, my men have no reason to lie to me. I want the truth. Now.”
“No. I didn’t escape, and I didn’t go see Alex. I swear! I followed a scent and—”
“I don’t believe you—”
“Why? What reason have I got to lie?”
“What reason have you got to lie?” he repeated, incredulous. “What reason do you have not to, knowing what I will do to you? The fact is, that boy was found skulking around here—”
“Alex was here!” I stood up.
“Sit down,” he said so firmly that I immediately sat down.
Luther’s eyes went to my red sweater and jeans. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “What are you wearing, April—after everything we have talked about?”
Red: The Untold Story Page 18
