Faerie Winter - Janni Lee Simner [52]
The Lady, marching through an ice-sheathed forest that glittered in the early-morning sun. Johnny marched by her side, a gray wolf at his heels—
“Liza.” Karin’s quiet voice drew me out of my visions as gently as Mom’s voice drew me out of nightmares. I opened my eyes to the shining trees around me. Kyle still held my hand.
“She found Matthew.” Had the Lady gone looking for him, or had he returned on his own, looking for Johnny and me? It didn’t matter. “We have to find them.” Matthew and I were supposed to keep each other safe. What was the point of whatever was between us if we couldn’t do that much?
“You are certain it was not the future you saw?” Karin asked. Elin hunkered down on her fist, talons digging into leather, as if she would deny us all.
“I don’t think so.” Though there was no wind, the dawn was cold. “It was morning, and there was ice on the trees.”
“Best not to let any more time pass, then.” Karin looked at me. “Ice and sun will present challenges for you as a seer. Do your best not to focus on any one spot for too long—but do not try so hard that you are not careful of your footing. Kyle, if Liza stops walking, can you squeeze her hand? That will help wake her out of visions.”
Kyle nodded soberly. “Can I pinch her, too?”
A smile pulled at Karin’s lips. “If you wish.”
I kept a wary eye on Elin as we set out. Ice coated the limestone bluffs, the white snow, the path we walked. My steps were maddeningly slow over the slick ice. I wished I were a hawk, not bound to the slippery earth. My thoughts kept turning to Matthew, imagining the Lady’s fingers running through his fur, imagining Matthew trotting behind her, obeying her every command.
The glimmering ice tugged at my gaze, like a child eager to show all her toys. Fragments of vision flickered at the edges of my sight.
Elin, running through underground tunnels, younger, alone—
The Lady, her hands on Elin’s shoulders. “How dare you let your control of the firestarter slip? You will find him. You will destroy him and all the escaped children who have caused our people grief with their magic this day—”
Matthew, running along a snow-covered path, running so hard his paws bled—
We crossed the river, Kyle and I making our way slowly over slick rocks, and even Karin choosing her steps with care. I’d hoped to cut through the forest and so gain some time, but the ground was too slippery. We followed the path toward Clayburn.
Elin watching Clayburn’s houses burn, her hand on Ethan’s arm—
Elin turning away from the sound of screaming, the sight of bright flames licking wood. Elin kneeling to throw up in the snow—
Ethan shuddering as if just coming awake, then creeping away from Elin’s side—
The sun rose higher, turning the sky a deep blue. “Stop,” Kyle whispered.
I stopped. “Why?”
Kyle pinched my arm. “That’s why!”
“Hey!”
Kyle giggled. Karin laughed, too. Elin twisted her head to glower at us. Karin shifted the hawk from one fist to the other as we walked on.
Darkness flickered within the ice-sheathed trees. Shadows—the trees hadn’t lost their shadows with the coming of winter after all, any more than the seeds had. They’d merely drawn that last bit of darkness close, as if to hold it safe. I softened my gaze, focusing on the shadows instead of the ice, and the visions came less often.
Hope calling up wind, her hands raised high, her face grim. Only then her hands fell slack, and she smiled—
Mom, standing on Kate’s back porch, looking into the Lady’s cold eyes. “Do to me as you will. I will fear you no longer—”
It was hard not to walk too fast over the treacherous ice.
As we neared Clayburn, Karin paused beside something silver that shone against the ground. Elin’s butterfly, feebly flapping its wings. “You kept it,” Karin whispered as she took the butterfly in one hand. She raised the hawk toward her, but Elin turned away.
“Set it free.” Kyle lifted his chin toward the butterfly. A faint shadow clung to its metal wings.
“If I set it free, it will die.” Karin frowned as she straightened a bent wing tip.
Better to die than to remain helpless,