Thief Eyes - Janni Lee Simner [57]
I pulled a sandwich from my pack and bit fiercely into it. The taste of blood mixed with the taste of tuna salad and a yellow sauce that was more like mayo than mustard. I read through the spell once more.
The mead has to work. “Ari, your mom was going to cast this spell. She wouldn’t have killed a fox—would she?”
Still looking at the water, Ari pulled a Coke from my pack and popped it open. “You’re asking me? I didn’t think Mom would sleep with a married man.” Ari picked up a flat rock and skipped it over the blue water. “You know, when I invited myself to lunch at Thingvellir, I had this idea that maybe you’d figured things out—about my mom and your dad, I mean—better than me. Stupid, really. I don’t know why I thought they’d have even told you when they didn’t want me to know, either.”
I tried to skip a stone, too, but it sank right into the water. I watched the ripples circle out. Maybe I was the stupid one, for not having figured out what was going on sooner.
We finished the sandwiches as twilight settled in. Ari stood and handed me the flashlight. I stood as well. He stretched and took a few steps back. “Ready?” A small smile crossed his face. He’s looking forward to this.
As the sun dipped behind the hills, the smile faded. Ari’s eyes took on a wide, startled look. “You’d think I’d get used to this—” His voice turned hoarse as his jacket began to flow, his face to twist and change, his skin to sprout white fur. Within moments a white bear stood roaring before me. The sound sent shivers down to my bones. Somewhere deep inside I knew I ought to run.
Ari whirled and ran from me instead, loping away along side the harbor. I raced after him, calling his name. He disappeared into the distance as the sky grew dimmer. I stopped and took a deep breath. He’ll come back. Just like last night. Did he need to remember that he wouldn’t hurt me? Or to wait until it was true?
“Get back here,” I whispered. I heard a distant roar.
A streak of white loped toward me through the dimness. Ari stopped just an arm’s length away, sides heaving. He hunkered down and rested his head in his paws, looking sheepish.
I laughed. “You just had to get that out of your system, didn’t you?”
Ari lifted his head and tilted it to one side. I could almost see his quirked smile in the gesture. I reached out and rubbed his nose.
He sneezed, covering my hand with polar bear snot. “Was that really necessary?” I asked.
Ari stood and gave me a long look down the length of his snout. I wiped my hand on his fur, and Ari nudged my hand away. “Hey! Not my fault you forgot to give me your handkerchief!”
Ari gave me another look—somehow, I knew he was laughing, too. He crouched down and waited for me to mount. I tightened the straps on my backpack and climbed up.
Or tried to. I immediately slid from his slick back to the ground. I cursed and got to my feet, brushing dirt and grass from my clothes. Ari turned his head to look at me.
“You think it’s funny, don’t you?”
The bear nodded, a human gesture. I swatted him on the nose. Ari snorted, blowing more snot onto my jacket. I rolled my eyes and tried to climb onto his back again. This time I didn’t fall off until Ari began moving.
It took five tries in all. Finally I got myself up over his broad shoulder blades, leaning forward and grabbing handfuls of the loose skin around his neck to hang on.
He started slowly, first with a lumbering walk and then, when I didn’t fall off this time, a slow lope. We made our way back through the streets of the town as I adjusted my balance. The water rippled gently behind us.
“Ghosts!” a voice shouted. I looked up. The girl from the gas station stood beside the road, holding her bicycle with one hand. She laughed and waved. I smiled, wondering why she could see us. Maybe it was like she’d said—some people just could. Just like some people could turn into bears, and others got caught by spells they didn’t expect. Maybe the world was just a strange, strange place, and there was nothing anyone could