by Lizzy Ford
“I’m from Ohio,” Adam said. “We don’t have pine trees.”
“We don’t have them in LA either,” she said. “Are you in the state system, too?”
“State system? You mean like a ward of the state?”
She nodded.
“No. I have parents and two brothers. I think you’re the only real live orphan here. Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” he added quickly. “Just that … well, I’ve never met an orphan before.”
“We’re just like most people,” she said with a smile.
“That’s cool. Do you miss your friends at um, orphan school?”
“I didn’t really have any friends. I’m kind of different.”
“Me, too. I think we all are.”
“They look normal,” she said, gaze on the girls frolicking in the shallows. Beck was splashing them with water.
“Yeah, they do.”
She heard the same quiet loneliness in Adam’s voice that she felt.
“So, do you like it here?” she asked.
“Love it. I got here last summer. I go home a few times a year for a couple weeks at a time, but mainly, I stay here. Amber is awesome, and people who have our gift of magick are welcome here. I went through so many schools that my parents were about to give up and home school me when Amber contacted them.”
“I’ve been through a ton of schools, too,” Summer said. “I hope I can make it here.”
“You will. This is the place people like us are supposed to be.”
She studied him, wanting to believe the place with magick in the air was the last school she’d ever be in. Adam was confident about this, if nothing else. With his hawkish nose and small eyes, he wasn’t handsome, but she couldn’t help thinking he was one of the most beautiful people in the world for having faith in her.
“Summer, come on!” Dawn shouted from the water.
Summer shook her head.
“Why not? It’s awesome!”
Summer shook her head again.
“Oh, are you on your period?”
Summer flushed and glanced at Adam then Beck. Adam was red, too, though Beck didn’t seem to have heard.
“It’s ok— next week!” Dawn said.
“She likes to embarrass people,” Adam said and cleared his throat.
Summer wanted to climb under a rock and stay there.
“Do you like ice cream?” Adam asked.
“Definitely.”
“Come on. There’s a little hot dog stand near the resort. He has ice cream bars, too.” The skinny boy rose.
Grateful for the excuse to leave, Summer stood and walked with him across the sand. The beach wrapped around the curve in the lake, and a log resort came into view as they walked. It was tucked into the forest with a long dock leading out into the lake. Adam walked to the dock then up a shallow hill toward the resort. The scent of grilled hamburgers reached Summer, making her mouth water. A small outdoor seating area was populated by one family while cooks roasted a hog on a spit over one set of coals and hamburgers on another grill. Near the edge was a small cart with hotdogs and ice cream.
Adam bought them both chocolate ice cream bars. Summer took a bite and almost gagged. Like the s’more and breakfast that morning, it tasted like fish. She forced a smile at Adam when he looked at her.
“Thank you,” she managed.
“I usually get one and sit on the dock. You can see all the fish.”
Summer said nothing, not wanting to see fish after everything she ate tasted like it. She went with him, though. He walked about halfway down the dock then sat with his legs dangling over the edge.
“See all of them?” he asked, excited.
Summer set the ice cream down beside her then leaned over to look. Sunlight glinted off the gills of fish in the shallow, greenish water.
“I like the catfish. You shouldn’t eat them, but a lot of people do,” he said, pointing to one.
His face glowed. She couldn’t quite relate to liking fish that much, but she was happy with his company. Adam went on to name all the fish that passed beneath them, rattling off odd facts about them.
Summer listened and laughed when he made corny fish jokes. Even if she had no interest in fish, spending the afternoon with someone as kind as Adam left her feeling content. She’d never spent any time with a boy, because she’d never been anywhere long enough to make friends.
As they walked back to the beach a couple of hours later, she began to think she really could make it in this new world. When the magick in the air and trees swirled around her, she didn’t resist. Instead, she tentatively welcomed it. It swept past her then through her, tickling as the magick in the amulet did.
“C’mon, guys!” Beck called from the parking lot. “We’re waiting!”
Summer and Adam returned to the van. It smelled of lake water. The girls were still dripping, and Dawn’s gaze settled on Summer.
“Someone has a boyfriend,” she whispered to her friends.
Summer pretended like she didn’t hear. Adam took up his seat in the back. While she’d enjoyed her afternoon with him, she didn’t feel towards him the way she did about Beck. The girls whispered as the driver took them back to the house. He dropped them off outside.
“Want to barbecue?” Beck asked as they ascended the stairs.
“Definitely!” Dawn replied.
No one else responded, and Summer hoped they didn’t expect her to come. She went to her room and put on her jeans again. They were the only piece of clothing that fit her remotely well. Before anyone could seek her out, she left the house and walked down the road, towards the direction she’d seen the ape-man the evening before. She moved from the road into the forest, this time making an effort to remember her surroundings so she could find her way back.
She walked for a while. The magick of the forest drifted through her like the sun through the canopy overhead. She saw nothing out of the ordinary and heard only the songs of birds. The deeper into the forest she walked, the more she doubted her eyes. A distant sound reached her ears, and she stopped to listen.
Summer altered her direction towards the sound, expecting to frighten away whatever it was. The cry grew louder as she approached. She slowed. It sounded like the distress mewl of a young animal. Summer’s heart quickened as the scent of rotting meat reached her nose. She covered it. Finally, she saw it: the lifeless, bloated body of a deer. What looked like massive claw marks had raked across its neck. Beside its body, struggling to stand at her approach, was a fawn. One of its legs was bloodied and it was too thin, as if it’d been lying beside its mother, calling for help, for days.
Real-life trial. Summer couldn’t help thinking of Amber’s words and the Light Laws.
The baby tried to run and collapsed on its injured leg.
“Oh, you poor thing!” Summer exclaimed. She moved forward to help it.
She reached out to stroke it, murmuring quietly. Its fur was the softest thing she’d ever felt, its dark eyes huge in the small face. It calmed some, its cries turning plaintive and hungry.
She looked at its dead mother. The fawn was an orphan like her. Touched by its plight, Summer bent over and wrapped her arms around it awkwardly, lifting it. The animal squirmed then stilled. She felt its heart racing. Summer picked her way through the forest back the way she’d come.
The skies began to grow dark as she walked, and she looked around, unable to tell her way through the forest again. The deer was quiet. By the loll of its head, it was getting weaker. She had to get it to the kitchen, where she could get milk. As dark fell, her sense of unease returned. The sounds of the forest changed with the night. The cries of birds were replaced with distant hoots of owls and rustling of animals.
She was lost. Again. Summer sat down on a tree stump to rest her arms. They ached from the effort of carrying the fawn. The small life clutched against her was slipping away. She started to panic, uncertain which way was home and if she’d get there in time. She stood, hoping to see light
s from the main house through the forest.
Nothing but darkness and trees surrounded her.
“You really need to stay out of the forest.”
She gasped at the familiar voice.
“Decker, is that you?”
“Who else would be out in the dark?”
“I guess anyone could be,” she answered, puzzled.
There was a pause. She heard branches snap as he moved closer.
“What do you have?” he asked.
“I found a baby deer. His mother was killed. I wanted to take him back to the house, but I got lost again.”
“You can’t have pets.”
“He’s not a pet!” she replied. “He’s hurt. I just want to help him get better.”
“If I take you back again, will you promise to stay out of the forest at night?”
“Yes, of course.”
“You need help carrying it?” He sounded irritated, as if he had something better to do in the forest after dark than lead her around.
“Um, no,” she lied, afraid to tell him her arms were shaking already.
She felt the warmth of his body heat as he approached. His hands brushed her arm as he took the small beast from her. His magick flew through her, startling her. It was warm and cool at once, the sensations sizzling along her nerve endings. The world around her felt more alive, the night darker, the breeze cooler.
“Come on then,” he directed, unaffected by the brush of their hands.
The sensations left her. She hurried to follow him, afraid of being left in the forest. Decker walked for half an hour before breaking out onto the road leading to the house. Summer expected him to pass off the deer to her then disappear. He kept walking until he reached the house then around the side, opening a side door that led directly into the quiet kitchen. Summer lingered in the doorway, unable to see. The lights flipped on, and Decker strode out.
Her eyes went to the fawn on the island in the middle. It looked so small and weak. It wasn’t moving. She rushed to it, petting its soft fur. It was warm. She touched the wound on his leg.
Summer went to the fridge and pulled out a gallon of milk then gazed around. She didn’t have a bottle or anything to use to feed it. She’d seen one of the teens at the orphanage use a turkey baster instead when she lost the bottle for her infant. Summer began to open the drawers of the kitchen, looking for one.
“We’ll have to clean its wound.”
Summer looked up, surprised that Decker returned. He carried rags and an armful of other things. He set them down, and she saw the rubbing alcohol, topical ointment, and bandages. He set to work carefully cleaning the small animal’s leg while she found the turkey baster. She microwaved a glass of milk then filled the baster.
“That’s a good idea,” Decker said, glancing at the turkey baster when she returned to the island. “It’s a bite. Doesn’t look infected, which is lucky.”
She watched him wrap the deer’s leg in a bandage. The deer had awoken and lay still.
“Poor thing,” she murmured, stroking its face. “I wonder if he’ll survive.”
“I don’t know. He’s pretty beat up.”
Summer’s heart broke for the baby. To survive an attack that killed its mother, only to die here, when it had a chance … the deer was like her. She had a second chance; the deer would, too. Resolve settled into her. She picked up her new ward.
“He’ll make it,” she said. “I’ll take care of him.” She walked to the door.
“Remember, stay out of the forest after dark,” Decker called after her. “I’m serious this time.”
Summer hesitated at the door, facing him. His dark eyes were on her. He wore all black, as usual, and his arms were crossed. Her body tingled in memory of their brief touch, and she couldn’t help the warmth that rose to her face.
“I will. Thank you, Decker,” she said.
“No problem, Summer.”
The way he said her name and held her gaze made her want to linger. She didn’t know what it was, but being around him made the air between them sizzle. Summer turned away and went to her room. She set the deer down on her bed and locked her door before trying to feed the animal. It resisted at first then drank a little before refusing. Summer pulled pillows from her roommate’s bed and built a fort around her fawn to keep him from rolling off the bed in the middle of the night.
She took a quick shower then lay down on the edge of the bed, wrapping her body around the side of the fawn that the pillow fort didn’t cover. Worried, she drifted into a restless sleep.
Chapter Four
Decker stood in the kitchen for a long minute, unable to register what he’d felt when their hands brushed. The sense they were connected grew stronger with their touch. His hand tingled from where it grazed her arm, and he tried to shake the sensation off.
“You’re not supposed to be in the house after eight,” Amber said, walking into the kitchen. “No guys in the girls’ dorm.”
“I know.”
“You wouldn’t by chance have seen Summer? She wasn’t at dinner today.” There was worry on Amber’s face. She was one of the few people he could tolerate for more than a few minutes. Her soul always sang happily, rendering her presence almost as soothing as Sam’s.
“She’s fine. She got lost in the forest,” he replied. “I found her and brought her back.”
“Oh, good.” Amber relaxed visibly. She crossed to the refrigerator. “You want something to eat?”
“No. Beck and I are going to visit our parents. We’ll be back by breakfast.”
Amber pursed her lips at him, but she didn’t lecture him about the rule of not leaving the grounds after dark. After all, his father owned the refuge for witchlings. He was the one person who could change the rules if he wanted.
“You okay, sweetie?” she asked, studying him. “I can’t imagine anything in the forest would scare you, but you look like something did.”
“I’m fine,” Decker said. “Not scared. Just … you know. Dreading my birthday.”
“I can’t imagine.”
“Yeah.”
She held his gaze and gave him a smile of encouragement. Decker didn’t think there was anything anyone in the world could do to help him once he turned eighteen. Amber seemed to know that as well, for her expression turned pitying. She said nothing.
Decker walked out. There was nothing she could say, but he almost wished she’d tried to tell him it wouldn’t be that bad. Not that he’d believe her, just that he’d appreciate her concern.
The shuttle van was waiting for him, the side door yawning open. Beck had claimed the passenger seat and was talking with the driver, an older man who’d retired from teaching at the school a year before. Decker climbed in and slammed the door shut.
The shuttle took them to their parents’ lakeside cabin, near the resort. The house was brighter than a pine tree at Christmas. Grayish smoke curled from the massive chimney. They left the shuttle driver and entered through the open garage, emerging into a kitchen bursting with the scents of home-cooked food. Their grandfather —who acted as their parents’ personal chef— was finishing up prepping small meals and freezing them, something he did for the boys he’d helped raise. He was a small, Native American man with white hair and wise eyes.
“Louis!” Beck said with a grin. “I love you, man!”
“You are very welcome,” Louis said. He grunted as Beck hugged him, his stern features softening.
“Hey, Grandpa Louis,” Decker said, smiling. “I see you survived yet another trip.”
“I hate flying,” Louis replied. “But someone’s got to take care of your parents.”
The more outgoing of the twins, Beck stayed to chat while Decker moved to where he knew his mother would be: in the family room. He sensed her, the way he sensed anyone with Dark magick. Hers rolled off of her in warm-cool waves that enveloped him like perfume long before he reached the family room. His parents sat there, waiting for them.
“Hello, son,” hi
s mother said in her velvety voice. She flipped through a magazine and didn’t look up to see which twin entered.
“Mother,” Decker said. “Hello, Father.”
“Good to see you, Decker.”
His father smiled and stood to give him a brief embrace. Middle-aged with graying hair, the noble features of their ancestral Native American tribe, and a lean frame, Michael Turner looked less like the billionaire entrepreneur he was and more like a newscaster. He wore jeans and a sports jacket, though his feet were bare. His soul was like that of Amber’s: soothing and happy.
Decker didn’t look at his mother, the Mistress of Fire and Night, until he sat down in one of the chairs near the fireplace. Rania glanced up at him then, her beauty and darkness mesmerizing even to him. With long hair and large brown eyes, she looked almost twenty years younger than her age. Her clothing— while meticulous and expensive— was always tight, revealing her toned shape and long legs. This night, she wore a velvet, one-piece jumpsuit that made her look like a panther crouched on the couch. Her aura was as dark as her black hair. Even he felt the threat in her gaze, the one that reminded him she’d claimed her own son’s soul the night he fell from the path of Light.
“Mom! Pop!” Beck called cheerfully as he entered. He hugged both parents, unaffected by their mother’s darkness. “We thought you were in Europe all summer.”
“We’re going back tomorrow,” their father said. “This trip will cause us to miss your birthdays, so we thought it was important to see you before then.”
“It’s a big day for both of you,” Rania said. “We talked about it and decided we’ll lift your suspended privileges on your birthday.”
“Yes!” Beck exclaimed. “I’m so sick of walking everywhere.”
“Happy Birthday,” Michael said with a laugh. “Just kidding. We got you both something else and hid it in the house. We’ll text you on your birthday with the secret location.”
“We’re not ten anymore, Dad,” Decker said, smiling. “You don’t have to hide our birthday and Christmas presents.”
“We’re too old for a treasure hunt,” Beck agreed.
“The first clue is in the fridge,” their father said, ignoring them.
