Faerie Winter - Janni Lee Simner [25]
Karin and Caleb had taught me not all faerie folk were monsters, but that didn’t mean they all could be trusted. I dropped the bracelet and waited, hand within reach of my knife, to see what this stranger would do. Johnny clutched Kyle’s hand, the older boy’s shoulders tensed.
Kyle frowned. “The butterfly doesn’t like it there.”
The girl reached around to touch the clasp, and the wings trembled beneath her hand. “It has been there many years, and butterflies are not accustomed to living so long. Would you have me kill it?” The girl spoke with idle curiosity.
What role had she played in the burning of the dead children around us—and why was she the only child from my visions untouched by Ethan’s fires? “Who are you?” I demanded.
Johnny rolled his eyes. “Charming as always.” The wariness didn’t leave him, but he held out his hand. “I’m Johnny. This is Kyle and Liza.”
I gave him a sidelong look. I would have kept our names from this stranger, at least until we knew why she was here. Names had power. I’d learned that laying shadows to rest.
“You may call me Elin.” The girl absently poked a bone with her boot. There were thorns woven into the hem of her dress and the edges of her sleeves. “Kyle. Johnny. Liza.” She turned the words on her tongue. “I think you should come with me.” Her voice took on a velvet softness. My skin tingled, as if her words were trying to take root there. Perhaps I’d only imagined it.
Perhaps not. I knew better than to ignore any instinct of danger. I turned toward Johnny, not letting Elin wholly out of my sight. “You should get Kyle home.”
“Yeah.” Johnny’s voice was strange, as if he weren’t quite awake. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” He stepped back, pulling Kyle with him. The younger boy jerked away and threw his arms around Elin’s legs.
“Stay with you!” he declared.
Elin looked down as if Kyle were a distasteful insect she’d found in her bedding. She turned to Johnny and me. “You’ll both come, too, of course.”
Johnny’s gaze softened. “Sure. Why not?”
Magic. Nothing else could make Johnny so agreeable. Gooseflesh prickled along my arms. Elin was calling him and Kyle, in some way I didn’t understand.
Kyle reached toward Elin’s hair. Elin smiled, removed her clasp, and put it into his hands. Her clear hair fell to her waist. The butterfly’s silver antennae quivered, and I felt something cold within the clasp reaching for me, begging to be set free.
Kyle smiled and patted the butterfly’s wings, as if he hadn’t wanted to free it himself moments before. The wings began to flap. “Pretty,” he said.
Glamour is like that. Mom’s words. It convinces you everything of theirs is so damned beautiful. Ice trickled down my spine, and I took a few steps back. “Johnny. Kyle. Come here.”
Kyle clutched the butterfly in one hand as he walked toward me, dragging his feet. I grabbed his other hand. Johnny slouched, as if he didn’t much care whether he listened to me or not, yet I felt the cold thread of my magic between us. “You always take everything so seriously,” he complained as he moved to my side.
I grabbed his hand, too. “Come on.” We’re getting out of here. I walked away from Elin, back toward my town. Kyle and Johnny followed; they had no choice. Once I got them safely away, I’d return to find Matthew.
“Kyle,” Elin called in her velvety voice.
Kyle kept holding my hand, but he pressed his lips into a pout. “Let me go, Liza.”
“Kyle, you seem like such a sweet child,” Elin crooned. “I would very much like to see the color of your blood. Will you show it to me? The butterfly’s pins are sharp enough.”
Kyle took the clasp and jabbed it into his arm. Blood trickled out. He lifted the clasp to stab himself again. I dropped Johnny’s hand, grabbed the butterfly from Kyle, and flung it into the forest.
Johnny bolted to Elin’s side before I could grasp his hand again. She