Faerie Winter - Janni Lee Simner [15]
“So this is your stranger.” Brianna’s voice was harsh. I looked up and saw that Kyle’s mother stood with the rest of the Council, watching us.
Kate stood to face them. Mom kept whispering to Ethan. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. What was wrong with her?
From among the townsfolk, others moved to stand with us, dim figures in the fading light: Hope and her husband and her little sister. Seth and his younger sister. Charlotte, who was a year older than me. Other Afters a year or two younger—all but Kyle’s brother, Johnny.
Brianna looked at our house. “I assume this fire was caused by magic?”
Mom looked to Kate. Kate nodded, and Mom got to her feet. “It was,” Mom said.
Matthew and the other Afters formed a protective ring around Ethan. I crouched by the boy’s side, whether to guard him or because I wasn’t ready to stand with them, I wasn’t sure. It wasn’t safe to keep Ethan in our town, not now that we’d seen what his fire could do. Yet if I hadn’t used my magic on him, his magic might not have slipped beyond his control. This was my fault, too.
Hope’s mother, who’d joined the Council after Father had left, looked from Brianna to the circle of Afters. “We can’t possibly let this child stay here.” Hope’s mother had forced Hope’s little sister out of the house when she’d learned of her waterworking; the girl lived with Hope and her husband now.
“Three days,” said Charlotte’s dad, who’d been on the Council since before I was born. He was our town’s carpenter, and he hadn’t kicked Charlotte out of the house when he’d learned of her woodworking magic; he’d declared her his apprentice instead. “We agreed to let the stranger stay three days.”
Brianna made a disbelieving sound. “That was before we saw the harm he could do.”
Matthew growled softly and clenched his fists. Wind swirled the snow at Hope’s feet.
“We’re not killers of children.” Kate spoke with the same quiet conviction I heard from Matthew sometimes. “Not anymore.”
“Looks like Jayce gets the deciding vote.” Charlotte’s dad chuckled softly. “As usual.”
Jayce ran a hand over his bald head and looked to Kate. “You’re willing to take responsibility for this boy?”
“Absolutely,” Kate said.
Jayce leaned on his cane. “Three days, then,” he said. Brianna gave him a withering look.
Ethan began shivering. We needed to get him out of the cold. “He won’t be ready to go anywhere in three days,” Kate said.
“That’s as close as we’re likely to get to a fair compromise. It will have to serve.” Jayce glanced at our burned house, then at Mom. “Let us know if there’s anything you need, Tara.” Mom nodded.
The last of the light had left the sky, and yellow moonlight shone through layers of cloud. The townsfolk began breaking up into smaller groups. Kate turned back to us. “Let’s get him inside.”
“No way in hell they’re sending him away,” Hope muttered.
“He’ll stay with Matthew and me for now.” Kate laid a hand on Mom’s shoulder. “You and Liza will stay with us, too. Your place isn’t in any shape to sleep in tonight.”
Mom sighed. “I’m honestly not sure it’s safe for Ethan to be in anyone’s home.”
Kate pressed her lips together. “Only until we can clear out the shed. I’m no fool, Tara.”
“I know.” Mom smiled wearily. “You’re the least foolish person I know. If you and the children can handle getting Ethan moved, I’d best see to the house. Come with me, Liza. We have to talk.”
“Yes. We do.” We had to talk about how Mom needed to stop putting her life at risk. I followed her to the house, while behind me, Kate asked Matthew to get a stretcher. The temperature was dropping, and cold bit my ears and bare fingers.
Mom disappeared inside, but I stopped when I heard Charlotte’s cane tapping the snow, with a lighter sound than Jayce’s cane made. She’d lost her leg below the knee the year our town had tried to grow tomatoes, back when we were toddlers. Charlotte had crafted her wooden replacement leg herself, using, I now knew, her magic. It fit so well that beneath her pants and boots, the two legs looked almost alike.
Charlotte gestured toward the