Faerie Winter - Janni Lee Simner [27]
“Give me the knife.”
Kyle hesitated, then shook his head—no. He grinned as his hand grew slick with blood. Johnny laughed as he watched us.
A few more steps and I’d reach the tree, but if Kyle cut too deep, he could lose use of his hand. I stopped, drew a sharp breath, and held my hands out in front of me. “Leave him alone.”
Elin’s feral smile reminded me of a cat that had cornered its prey. “No more playing with the knife, Kyle.”
Kyle frowned, but he drew the blade away. So much blood—I couldn’t tell whether tendons had been severed. He looked up at me, and for an instant fear flashed across his face. “Hurts,” he whispered.
Elin patted his shoulder. “Of course it doesn’t hurt.”
Kyle nodded slowly, though his hand still bled. Anger threatened to choke me, as surely as my scarf had.
“If you take so much as a single step without my leave, Liza, I shall feel free to command him to slit his own throat. Do you understand?”
“I understand.” I kept the fear from my voice. Anger had its uses, after all.
Kyle stared down at his bleeding hand, as if it puzzled him. Elin glanced at Johnny. “Find my butterfly, and bring it back to me.” Johnny headed off among the trees to do as she asked while Elin stalked toward me.
“Much better. Grandmother says all humans come into line sooner or later. It is simply a matter of learning to speak your crude language.” Elin took my hands in hers. I fought not to flinch as she rolled up my loose coat sleeves and crossed my arms in front of me. Wool flowed once more, liquid and glimmering, until my sweater bound my arms together at the wrists. Elin smiled as she stroked the sleeves, and the rest of the sweater tightened around me, constricting my ribs. I gave a sharp gasp. I could breathe, but I couldn’t run. I pulled at my sleeves. The binding at my wrists held. I was trapped.
Panic shuddered through me. Kyle drew his bleeding palm to his mouth, as if his wound were a mere curiosity. “Bind his hand.” Talking hurt with the sweater tight around me.
Elin smiled sweetly. “Kyle doesn’t mind a little blood, does he?” Kyle shook his head. “Still, it would not do to bring him to the Lady damaged.” Elin strode idly to Kyle and touched the sleeve of his wool coat. Light flowed beneath her fingers, and a strip of wool fell away into her hands, as surely as if she’d cut it. She wrapped the cloth around Kyle’s injured hand and ran her fingers over the wool. The edges melted together, the way wood melted beneath Charlotte’s hands. When Elin drew away, a tight gray bandage circled Kyle’s palm. Kyle grinned, even as blood began to seep through.
Johnny returned with Elin’s butterfly. The wings were bent, but they flapped on. Elin frowned as she straightened them and drew her hair from her neck. “If you try to use your magic in any way, Liza, there will be more blood. I trust you understand that as well. Do you require that I gag you, or will you behave?”
“I’ll—” Words caught in my throat. I couldn’t promise to do as she asked if I didn’t mean it. “You don’t need to gag me.”
“Good.” Elin took Kyle’s bandaged hand. He wrapped his fingers around hers. Johnny reached for her other hand. “You will walk ahead of me, so that I can watch you. Follow the trail.”
“Where are we going?”
Elin made a shushing sound. “I have not given you leave to ask questions, Summoner. Do you seek to anger me so soon?”
Johnny tilted his head at me, as if puzzled. “You worry too much, Liza.”
“Indeed,” Elin said. “Start walking.”
I wanted to throw myself at her. I did not want to walk into danger at her command. But I moved forward, my bound gait stiff, my breath tight. If we continued along this path, we’d be heading straight for Clayburn. Rain began to fall in large, cold drops. Elin’s steps made no sound, but I heard Kyle behind me. Johnny, too—for once he wasn’t using magic to hide himself.
My thoughts remained my own. I held to that, staying alert for any way free of this trap.
We left ash and mud and the picked-over bones of the dead behind.