Faerie Winter - Janni Lee Simner [55]
Kyle was crying again. I knelt by his side. Both footprints and paw prints turned onto the road, leading away from this place and toward my town. The wolf is merely a toy. How long did we have before the Lady decided Matthew’s life was worth no more than Johnny’s?
I laid my hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “We have to go.”
Kyle looked up, nose running, eyes rimmed with red. “Take him with us.”
“We can’t take him, Kyle.”
Kyle pressed his lips together. “Carry him.”
“We can’t. I’m sorry.” Johnny was too close to my height and weight. I couldn’t carry him for long.
I thought Kyle would argue, but he only said in a small voice, “Later?”
“Later. I promise.” I eased Johnny’s hands from around my knife, then hesitated. Would carrying a knife put us in more danger, should the Lady use glamour against me? The power she’d have over my magic would be far more deadly if it came down to that. Until then, I would wield every weapon I could. I pulled the knife free.
It slid cleanly from Johnny’s chest, as if he were no more than a deer felled on a hunt. I fought a wave of nausea as I wiped the blood from my blade in the mud. For an instant some hint of shadow seemed to cling to Johnny’s cold skin. I blinked hard, and it was gone.
I sheathed the knife in my belt. Kyle took the frog from his pocket and set it carefully on Johnny’s chest, over the wound. “Later,” he whispered, then looked up. “Carry me?” His voice was forlorn, as if he knew it was too much to hope for.
I was so tired—it didn’t matter. “Carry you,” I agreed. I knelt so Kyle could wrap his legs around my waist and his arms around my neck. He sighed and leaned wearily on my shoulder as I stood.
Karin knelt by Johnny’s side. “Powers protect you,” she whispered, and it sounded like a prayer.
I focused on following footprints and paw prints through the slush, on pushing through the bleak fear that chilled me even as melting ice dripped from the branches. Kyle sniffled against my neck. I chose, I realized. I chose Kyle over Matthew and Johnny both when I gave him the leaf. I thought of how Mom had chosen the other children—and her memories of Faerie—over me, of how Karin had chosen a town full of humans over Elin. How did anyone ever choose one person over another? How did they live with those choices afterward?
Kyle shifted to look behind us, then all at once cried out, “Johnny!”
“He’s gone.” My throat ached. How often had I wished Johnny would just go away?
“Not gone.” Kyle’s voice was stubborn. “Down,” he said.
“Kyle—”
“Down!” He wriggled from my back and ran toward Johnny. I turned and ran after him, past Karin and Elin.
My breath caught. A dark shadow rose from where Johnny lay. Legs, arms, and face took shape out of that darkness as Kyle ran at it. I tried to grab him; so did Karin. We were both too late. Kyle threw his arms around the darkness. He shuddered, as with cold, then drew back and reached for the shadow’s hand. Shadow fingers wrapped around his. Kyle’s shivering eased, and he lifted his head to look at me. “Told you, Liza.”
The shadow was growing more solid, like a charcoal sketch of the boy Johnny had been. I reached for his other hand, but my fingers went right through his, and cold knifed up my arm. I jerked away. This shadow wasn’t for me—it was for Kyle.
It didn’t matter who Johnny’s shadow was here for. I reached for his hand again, but he drew back. “I’m sorry, Johnny.” I wasn’t sure how I managed to speak. “But this isn’t real. And I can give you rest.”
The shadow shook his head. Johnny always had been stubborn.
“He promised,” Kyle said.
I’ll take care of you. Promise. “That was before, Kyle. He can’t—”
“Not sleeping,” Kyle said firmly, and squeezed his brother’s hand.
I thought I’d shatter like old plastic if I spoke a single word. I began walking again, and Johnny and Kyle walked beside me.
This was so wrong. I looked to Karin as she joined us.
“I cannot tell you what to do here.” Karin stroked Elin’s feathers. The bird shrank from