Faerie Winter - Janni Lee Simner [5]
“Take care Liza, all right?” Jayce hesitated, then looked at the wolf. “You too, Matthew.” He continued down the path toward his forge, and Matthew and I continued to my house.
I heard voices out back. We walked around to find Mom and Hope crouched in the snow.
“Gently,” Mom said. “A breath of wind, nothing more.”
Hope closed her eyes and held out her bare hands. A breeze rippled over the snow, catching the thin blond braids that fringed her face. Tiny acorns clattered at the braids’ ends. A foolish risk, some said. I knew I wasn’t willing to trust an acorn enough to wear it so close to my face, winter or no winter. But ever since Hope and her new husband had moved into their own home, she seemed to have given up on caring what others thought.
The white snow in front of her drifted upward. Hope grinned, a mischievous look that made it hard to believe she was older than Matthew and me. At nearly eighteen she was the oldest person in our town with magic.
“Control,” Mom whispered. I tried not to focus on how loosely her down-filled coat hung about her shoulders, or the way the shadows around her eyes gave her face a sunken look that hadn’t been there last summer.
Hope’s breeze gusted, blowing cold white powder into all of our faces. I coughed; Matthew shook snow from his fur. Hope laughed, brushed the snow from her jacket, and got to her feet. “This is gonna be hell once the baby starts kicking.” Her hands moved to her belly, though there was little sign yet that she was pregnant.
Mom smiled. Did anyone else see the tiredness behind it? “That’s why you need to work on control now. Practice whenever you can.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Hope said, but there was no seriousness in it. She ruffled Matthew’s fur. “You two getting into any trouble?”
Matthew barked. My face flushed.
“And why not?” Hope pulled on her gloves.
Before I could answer, Matthew shrugged his wolf’s shoulders. Hope laughed again. “See you all later. I’ll practice, Tara, I promise.” She gave Mom a quick hug and headed home with a final wave.
Mom hugged me, too, more tightly, as if determined to keep me close. I hugged her back, feeling her bony shoulder blades through her coat. She headed inside, and Matthew and I followed, through the back door and into the cold kitchen, where Matthew’s clothes lay scattered on the floor. He hung behind as Mom and I continued into the living room.
Mom had built up the fire. I pulled off my gloves and warmed my chilled hands over the coals. I loosened my scarf, unbuttoned my coat, and shoved my hat and gloves into my pockets. The coat had no lack of pockets; it was Father’s old army jacket from Before. Wearing his coat felt strange, but I’d outgrown mine, and I welcomed the warmth of the bear-fur lining he’d added.
Mom shrugged off her coat and pulled off her gloves, too. Without thinking, I searched for the silver leaf she’d worn all her life, a gift from Caleb—but she’d removed it the day Caleb had left our town, and I hadn’t seen it since. I’d not told either of them about the vision I’d had that day. I thought of Mom, trembling as she’d fled from Caleb—but she hadn’t seemed frightened when she’d taken off the leaf, only sad.
I watched as Mom took a pot holder and removed the teapot from the rack above the fire. She poured hot tea into a mug and pressed the warm mug into my hands with a little too much force, as if that, too, were a way of holding me close.
Heat spread through my chest as I drank. My stomach grumbled, but I ignored it. If I could wait until after my morning chores to eat, I’d be less hungry the rest of the day.
Mom put her hands over mine. Her fingers were too thin, bone pressing against skin. “You’re cold, Lizzy. More trouble? You didn’t have any nightmares last night, so I slept right through your leaving.”
I inhaled the mint-scented steam. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
Mom gave me a searching look. “What happened?”
I looked at the mug as I repeated all I’d told Jayce. SeaWorld San Diego, it read. I wondered, not for the first time, where