by Dani Harper
Free to choose to abandon her lover.
The fact that Saffir had not been seen by anyone, anywhere, meant little. Changing one’s appearance was simple. If one did not possess sufficient magic, such glamours could be purchased. Perhaps Saffir had adopted not only a new facade but a whole new life, because she understood the true hopelessness of Braith’s condition . . .
No. Trahern had resisted that verdict from the beginning, and he still did. Had he not promised his brother that he would never stop trying? When he wasn’t riding with the Hunt, he worked constantly on one spell or another. Hundreds of spells. Thousands of variations. And so far, every single one of them had come to naught.
Worse, Braith himself had changed. Whether it was the result of mourning Saffir or some natural progression of the enchantment that bound him, Trahern didn’t know. Once, his brother had been able to hear Trahern’s every thought and respond in kind. Gradually, however, Braith’s voice in his mind had faded until it ceased altogether. His brother’s mannerisms had altered, too, descending into purely animal traits. Now, though he remained utterly devoted to Trahern, Braith had finally become as other dogs. He was not a true grim. But neither was he a man.
“Your wish to know love has brought you to this sorry state,” said Trahern aloud. “But I am the one who has failed to find anything that can save you.”
The noble creature looked up at once, his eyes questioning but recognizing only that the object of his fierce loyalty was troubled. He chuffed once, then turned his intent gaze to the Hunt as they vanished in the distance.
Trahern shook his head. “We will follow later, perhaps tonight. I would linger in this land a little longer and see these hills by the light of day.” Dawn reddened the sky as he veered his horse to race along a high rocky ridge, with the great dog at his side. No matter how hard or fast Trahern rode, however, some memories could never be left behind.
Nor could guilt.
The prospect of the campfire get-together didn’t excite Fox. In fact, he didn’t want to go at all. “Dude, it’s Saturday,” he stated simply. “There’re three episodes of Tiger Ninja tonight, and you have to make popcorn.”
Lissy sighed inwardly. She’d been in this position many times, walking a tightrope between piquing her son’s interest in an activity and causing him to stress out and reject it. If she didn’t maintain a perfect balance, she wouldn’t be going anywhere. As parties went, it was pretty small—six adults hardly counted as a crowd. But to Fox, it could mean far more interaction than he could handle. He goes to school now, in a whole room full of kids. And he hardly ever needs a classroom aide anymore. Sometimes Fox still used noise-canceling headphones when he had an in-class assignment and concentrating got too hard. The sound of other kids breathing, wriggling in their seats, rustling papers, and dropping pencils could be too much to bear for her sensitive son. But this wasn’t work, and focus wasn’t required. He can handle this; I know he can.
Finally, she lucked upon the magic words that changed his mind. “Brooke has new stones and crystals for you to look at. She wants to know if you think they’re good enough for the shop.”
He hesitated for almost a whole minute. She could all but see the wheels of interest starting to turn in his mind. “But what about Tiger Ninja?” he asked at last. “And popcorn?”
“I’ll record all three episodes so you can watch them tomorrow as many times as you want. And we’ll make lots and lots of popcorn before we go, then take it with us to share with your aunties. Deal?”
After another long pause, in which she feared she’d lost the battle, Fox finally nodded. “But Squishy Bear comes, too. And my light. And my magnifying glass. And my book.”
“We’ll take everything you want to take,” she said, then mentally kicked herself for not phrasing it better. Fox just might fill the car with everything he owned because he couldn’t make a decision on what to leave behind. “Everything you need for rocks and for bedtime,” she qualified, hoping that would keep the number of items down somewhat. I’m not going to worry about it. If he packs his entire room, I’m not saying a—
The phone rang, and Lissy picked it up as Fox ran to his room to start packing.
“Mi precioso!”
“Hi, Mama. Did I forget something?” Lissy went down her mental list, then slapped her palm to her forehead. Her mother was getting on a plane tomorrow! “Did you forget something? Do you need help?”
“I am fine, mija. You have a key if you want a change of scenery, your oldest sister has all the information on where I’m staying, and I already collected mucho hugs from you and Fox when you picked him up after work last night. But I wanted to tell you something. I just saw that young man, Guillermo’s son, Vincente, on my way to the mailbox. He is a pharmacist now, you know, and he owns that drugstore just off Fourth. Anyway, he said he would love to meet you for coffee one day soon.”
“Mama! I can get my own dates!”
“If that is so, why do I not see you doing it? You have been alone a long time, mija, and it is only one date. It is not good for you to . . . ”
Lissy rolled her eyes and softly banged her head on the wall as her mother launched into one of her more frequent speeches. To be fair, her mother hadn’t said the D word for the first few years of Fox’s life. But lately, the subject just wouldn’t die. “We’ve been over this, Mama. I have enough to do between my job and my son. I don’t have time for a relationship right now.”
“You know what I think, mija? I think that you are hiding behind these things. You think that no one can be like Matt, so you do not want to try.”
It shocked her. “What kind of a thing is that to say?”
“It is the thing a mother says who has also avoided meeting new men because no one could ever be like my dear Jack. I loved your father.”
“I know you did,” said Lissy, softening a little. Her parents had had the kind of marriage that inspired everyone who knew them. Until a heart attack claimed Jack Callahan much too soon. It had been many years now—Lissy and George had still been in middle school—but Olivia had steadfastly refused to reenter the dating world.
“I am thinking my example has not been a good one for my children. That’s why I’ve promised Guillermo that I will go to dinner with him as soon as I come back. We have even picked a restaurant, that little place over on Ninth Avenue I told you about.”
If they had picked a ring and a date, the news couldn’t have been more astonishing. “Mama—that’s incredible! I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you, mija. Just promise me you’ll think about it, too. Ask yourself why you don’t go out more.”
“I am going out! I’m camping with my girlfriends tonight.”
“Wonderful! I am very happy to hear it.”
In Lissy’s mind, it would have been a perfect conversation if only it had ended at that point. But a mother was a mother, and Olivia couldn’t seem to help herself. “But you know, it is only coffee you are having with Vincente,” she persisted. “Surely I can tell him you will think about it?”
“No!”
Several minutes later when Lissy hung up, she felt that she needed a drink. Too bad it’s a dry party. But there would be chocolate and good friends—
Crap, I’ve got a ton of popcorn to make! She rushed to the kitchen to get out her biggest pot.
Palouse Falls State Park was an amazing place by day. Jutting basalt formations framed a deep canyon that had been carved out by Ice Age floods. The river that now ran along its bottom resembled a blue ribbon from this height, reflecting the sky as it wound its way toward the larger Snake River in the distance. Most amazing of all, however, was the waterfall itself. An angel-white torrent plunged nearly two hundred feet into a perfectly round bowl of glassy green-blue water.
At Fox’s insistence, the two of them toured the canyon trails, stopping to read every interpretive placard. His aunties were already on-site, setting up tents and tables, but he’d barely even said hello to them yet—he was m
uch too keen to see all that the park had to offer. Fox had an intense passion for rocks of all kinds, and not just the pretty ones. It was one of the very few things that Lissy had in common with her son that permitted them some rare moments of bonding. His pockets were already bulging with chips of volcanic basalt, quartz, and feldspar, and he’d half filled Lissy’s pockets as well. Fox would insist on keeping every last one of them, of course—and who knew how many more he’d have collected by the time they left. I sure hope I can find room in his bedroom for another box of “specimens.”
The sinking sun brushed the canyon with gold when they circled their way back to the main viewing area closest to the campground. It was Lissy’s favorite spot. Near the lip of the falls stood a strange formation that some called The Castle. It stretched more than halfway across the spillway like a pocketed rampart of oddly shaped stalagmites, now gilded in the lengthening light. Even her background in geology couldn’t fully answer how the structure managed to remain intact with swollen spring waters pounding relentlessly around it. It stood high and dry in the hot, arid summer, however, and the shrunken river flowed politely beside it like a companion just before it tumbled off the cliff.
Suddenly, a faint rainbow rose from the mist to crown The Castle, adding to its magic.
“I think it’s a faery house,” said Fox.
“You do?”
“Yeah, dude, like in the story Grandmamma gave me when I was a little kid. You know, the one about the Nodkins. They built a big apartment building out of flat stones for all their brownie and sprite friends to live in so they could be safe from the bad mice.”
Lissy could well imagine real faeries frequenting a place like this. Not the dainty fictional beings from childhood books, who sipped dewdrops from flowers and granted wishes, but the full-scale badass variety that so many of her friends and family had encountered in real life. Morgan and Rhys had fought more than one battle with the dangerous creatures. So had Tina’s cousin Liam. He’d had to free his wife, Caris, who had been kidnapped by the fae. And it wasn’t that many years ago that a faery woman would have succeeded in killing George if it hadn’t been for Brooke’s quick thinking and quicker magic. In fact, Brooke’s own husband, Aidan, had once been called to ride with the Wild Hunt, the only human to do so freely. And the only one ever permitted to leave . . .
But the Hunters had used Steptoe Butte, eighty miles away, as their entry to the human world. My world. Lissy shivered a little, though it wasn’t cold, and was thankful she’d never run into the otherworldly beings. Well, except Ranyon, of course. But he didn’t really count—the strange little ellyll had left his world behind in favor of living among humans, and he was family to all of them now.
“Can I have some popcorn? And some juice. And a hot dog with no mustard.”
“You can have juice and popcorn right away, and we’ll check and see if the fire’s ready for your hot dog.”
“I want to cook it myself!”
“Of course you can—you’re a pretty big guy now.” Fox was forgetting his pleases, but she let it slide. His demanding tone indicated that he was tired and hungry now, and he needed to refuel ASAP before he could cope with social niceties. She passed him a juice box from her pocket.
“It’s not cold! I need it cold!”
“I know you do. Do you want to take this and trade it for one from the cooler, or do you want to drink this one and a cold one?” Choices. The same child who needed structure and routine like he needed air also needed options. Not too many because that would be overwhelming, but some choices, some control, to stave off the frustration of a world that didn’t quite match up with his needs. As always, Lissy felt her feet on the tightrope, trying to maintain the delicate balance that made sense only to her son. A moment later he drank the juice, and she felt herself exhale.
The glow of the fire faded long before it reached Fox’s little “camp,” but the bright moon more than made up for it. He’d chosen the site himself, the farthest one from the group, a grassy knoll among a scattering of trees. And with his official Nat Geo headlamp switched on full, it was easy enough for Lissy to keep an eye on his whereabouts. As expected, however, Fox hadn’t moved from his spot. He sat cross-legged in front of his Scooby-Doo pup tent with a huge magnifying glass and his favorite Smithsonian book about rocks, totally absorbed in inspecting the contents of a large box: the latest shipment of crystals and gemstones for Handcastings.
Brooke always saves her new specimens for him to see first, bless her heart. And every time they visited the shop, she couldn’t help but feel a renewed sense of connection with him (and not a little pride) as he appraised each sample on the shelves. Yet there were only certain stones he would actually touch or bring to her with questions. Lissy’s mother, Olivia, wasn’t surprised by this behavior at all. “He has good instincts, that boy, just like you do, mija. He already knows which crystals have positive energy for him and which do not. Our little Fox has gifts, you know. Very strong gifts.”
The night was warm, but ice seemed to skitter down her spine. Gifts. That was really what scared the hell out of her lately. Lissy had heard tales of the so-called Santiago “gift” all her life. Her grandmamma had been a powerful and much-respected bruja, a practitioner of Magic with a capital M. Her mother, however, had inherited only a handful of the skills. The full measure of power had passed Olivia by, and—much to Lissy’s personal relief—had also passed by her children.
Still, there was a tiny whisper of magic in Lissy’s blood. While sometimes that magic manifested in the form of dreams, more often she picked up vibes, feelings, about things that didn’t make sense until later. She had a feeling now, and she didn’t like it one bit.
Damn those blue chairs—
Leaving her friends, she walked over to join her son. As she approached, she saw something heave and shift underneath the big open book next to Fox. A whip of a tail protruded, identifying the culprit as Tina’s dachshund, Jake, changing position before settling back into sleep. I didn’t even know he was there! The last time she’d seen the dog, his pointy little head was inside an open bag of marshmallows . . .
Though sweet and affectionate with his owner, Jake had long reigned supreme as the terror of Morgan’s veterinary clinic. In fact, Lissy didn’t know of anyone in their circle who hadn’t experienced the wrath of the bad-tempered dachshund at one time or another. Her twin brother, George, called him “El Diablo.” Her friends often joked about it being a rite of passage—you can’t officially be part of the gang until you’ve been crocodile chomped by Jake. And although the dog was getting up in years, he still showed no signs of mellowing out.
Unless Fox was present.
Her son’s first encounter with Jake had been purely by accident, when Fox was a toddler. Lissy had taken him with her to visit her girlfriends at Morgan’s house. Since Fox was having a rare good day, she’d set him on the living room floor with his Squishy Bear before walking into the kitchen to see if she could help . . .
She heard the front door open and Tina gleefully announcing she’d brought her infamous “Sex in a Pan” squares. She’d brought something else, too. Without warning, the little dog had thundered into the living room like an avenging alligator, fangs bared, drool flying. Lissy had turned just in time to see her Fox, her baby, sitting calmly, his plush bear extended to the advancing animal in one vulnerable chubby hand. Time slowed, as it often did at the beginning of irreversible tragedy. She was much too far away, yet she instinctively gathered herself just the same, prepared to somehow make the impossible leap to place her own body between the demonic dachshund and her child—
But Jake stopped abruptly.
All growling ceased as his lips curtained his needle-sharp teeth. The dog trembled and whined. Suddenly, he dropped to his belly and crawled slowly across the rug to the smiling Fox. The dachshund lifted his head just enough to rest his narrow chin on the child’s knee as if in supplication. And went immediately to sleep!
Everyone bunched
up in the doorway, staring, and none of them, not even Lissy, dared to move or speak in case the spell broke. It was Tina, white-faced and shaking, who made her way over to sit ever so carefully next to Fox. Even she was hesitant to try to remove the dog—he was just too dangerously close to the child.
Jake paid no attention to his owner, however, not even waking until Fox himself finally stood up and wandered off. The dachshund immediately trotted along beside the little blond-haired boy as if attached by a string, while Fox babbled to him in some semblance of conversation. He never left the child’s side until it was time to go home.
In the years since, the dog’s reputation for canine terrorism remained intact, but he also retained his total adoration of Fox.
Lissy sidled over and sat down on the opposite side of her son, hugging her knees—though she’d much rather be hugging him. “So, how’s Jake tonight?” she asked.
“He’s okay. He’s tired because he’s old, but he likes it here.”
That was a lot more information than she expected. Fox hadn’t taken his eyes off the mineral he studied, a fibrous blue crystal of kyanite. She took a chance and asked a question. “So, um, I notice you don’t ever pet Jake.”
The boy’s response was matter-of-fact. “He doesn’t like being touched.”
