Grayson pulled the truck onto Meandering Lane and slowly drove through the fog that had fallen on that side of the island. It was so opaque, Nor could swirl it into shapes with her fingertips. What shapes would they be? An eye for caution, a hand outstretched in warning, a question mark for What the hell are you doing?
“The whole street lost power about a week ago,” Reed said. “That’s when even Mom’s regular clients stopped coming. She decided to close up for a bit and visit my aunt Luiza in Florida. She wanted me and Grayson to go with her.” He shrugged. “The way things have been around here, Grayson probably should have.”
They stopped in front of the Sweet and Savory Bakery. The front door was slightly ajar. A carpet of dried leaves and pinecones covered the bakery floor.
Gage and Charlie jumped out of the back of the truck. “You three should wait for us here,” Gage said, pointing at Savvy, Grayson, and Reed.
Savvy opened her mouth to protest, but Nor quickly cut her off. “He’s right,” she said lightly. “You should just stay put. We won’t be long.” Hopefully.
“But I have this,” Reed said, holding up a high-beam flashlight he’d dug out of the debris on the truck floor. “I imagine the Witching Hour can be pretty creepy in the dark.” He was teasing her, but when he saw the look on her face, he changed his tone. “Okay,” he said somberly, handing her the flashlight. “I’ll have Grayson park the truck in front of Willowbark. We’ll be there if you need us.”
Nor nodded. She glanced over at the stairs and saw a red smear on the handrail. She suspected that when all this was over, none of them would be able to stop associating her with pain. Including herself.
The plants in the front garden bristled as Charlie, Nor, and Gage walked by. The blossoms of a quince bush snapped and hissed. A hawthorn tree, its naked limbs covered in treacherous-looking thorns, loomed menacingly over the staircase. The once-purple blooms of a French lavender bush looked like the husks of dead bees.
“You said you had a bad feeling?” Gage said. “How bad?”
“Pretty bad,” Nor whispered.
Gage nodded thoughtfully. “Got it.”
Charlie unzipped her sweatshirt and took out a rolled leather bundle she had secured to her chest. Nor watched in awe as Charlie unfurled the bundle, revealing six gleaming knives of various shapes and sizes.
“Do you always carry an arsenal with you?” Nor asked.
Charlie adjusted a serrated blade tucked in her boot. “It’s a precaution.”
They climbed the stairs. Though the rain had washed some of them away, bloody footprints led down the steps. Nor’s heart beat wildly as Gage opened the door.
The dark purple walls seemed to absorb all the light from the flashlight. The air was dank, heavy with a familiar metallic odor. The velvet curtains had been torn to shreds. The floor crunched beneath their feet. Death masks and gargoyles hanging on the wall grinned down at them menacingly.
Something brushed up against Nor’s leg. She jumped and let out a stifled yelp.
“Oh shit,” she breathed. “It’s just Kikimora.” She put her hand on Gage’s arm to keep him from stabbing the cat.
Nor leaned down and stroked Kikimora’s fur. Her hand came away wet, sticky, and warm. Blood. And it wasn’t Kiki’s. The cat darted out the open door.
Nor scanned the room with her flashlight. Chaos, splattered blood, then finally —
Madge. Slumped on the floor behind the front counter.
“Nor —” Gage said.
Nor didn’t hear the rest of what he might have said. She stumbled across the room. Please don’t be dead, she thought. Please don’t be dead.
Madge’s face was bloated. Her skin was covered entirely with fern tattoos. Blood seeped from lacerations on her arms and legs and puncture wounds on her neck.
Madge emitted a gurgled cough, and Nor set the flashlight to the side and pulled the debased woman’s head onto her lap. Nor gasped at the waves of pain she picked up just from touching Madge’s fevered skin. Nor stroked her hair, and Madge’s agony filled the space between them like scalding steam.
But when Nor pulled her hand away, strands of Madge’s once-lustrous hair came with it. Nor swallowed a wave of nausea, wiped her hand clean, and resolutely pushed it against the wounds on Madge’s throat. Nor drew out Madge’s pain as two long quills. Madge’s wounds closed, and she took in a slow, ragged breath.
Nor sighed in relief. She ignored the shocked looks on Charlie’s and Gage’s faces, and quickly pulled the quills out of her hands. Each one left behind a deep, bloodied gouge. She’d hardly alleviated any of Madge’s pain, but she wasn’t sure if she could do much more. Pain couldn’t heal pain — at least that was what Judd had always said.
“Nor?” Madge rasped. She peered up at Nor, her eyes mad with fever. “Oh, Nor, I thought she was going to kill me,” she said, sobbing.
“You’re going to be okay,” Nor promised. She looked over at Gage and Charlie. “We need to get her to my grandmother,” she said. “And then —”
Madge suddenly sat up and pitched herself at Nor. Nor’s palms collided with the floor. Broken glass cut into her hands. Madge wedged a sharp knee into her side, and Nor screamed.
The rest came as a blur. Charlie charged at Madge and sent her flying off Nor with a teeth-rattling blow. Madge hit the counter with a grunt and knocked the cash register to the floor. It did nothing to slow her down. Charlie tackled Madge again, and Gage grabbed Nor from behind and pulled her out of the way.
“Get back!” Gage barked.
Nor scurried to hide behind a bookcase while Gage went to help Charlie. Someone kicked over the flashlight, and the room went dark. The sounds of a struggle continued.
Nor crawled out from behind the bookcase, sliding her hand across the floor in search of the flashlight. She found it, and the light quaked in her trembling hand. She turned it on and aimed it at the noise.
Madge had her hands around Gage’s throat. His face was red. His eyes were bulging. A strangled cry escaped his lips. Beside them, Charlie pulled herself to her knees, then slipped and fell. Blood covered the floor.
It was all so familiar: blood and pain and fear.
Nor felt something building inside her, something dark and terrible. It scratched and bit and pulled at her insides. It was so powerful Nor was afraid it would eat her alive if she didn’t let it out. She opened her mouth and —
For a moment, it was as if all the sound had been sucked from the room. And then Nor’s scream crashed down on everyone like a wave. The floor undulated. The whole building shuddered. The death masks and gargoyles fell from the walls. A window shattered.
And then it was over.
On wobbly legs, Nor staggered across the room toward the other three, grateful to see that Madge, now unconscious, no longer had her hands around Gage’s throat. She pulled Gage and Charlie to their feet. “We gotta get out of here,” she said. She wasn’t sure if either of them could hear her. Charlie had a dazed look on her face. There was a little blood trickling from one of Gage’s ears. Nor put her hands on either side of his head. His pain erupted into blisters across her already bleeding palms.
Gage gave her a stunned look. “How did you —” he started.
Nor pushed him toward the door. “Just go!” she said.
It was only after they’d left that Nor allowed herself to look back at Madge sprawled across the floor. She wasn’t moving. Nor couldn’t tell if she was breathing, but her eyes were closed. Her face looked almost peaceful. Almost. Nor knew it was likely she’d never see her alive again.
Nor turned and raced after Charlie and Gage. The glass from the Witching Hour’s broken window crunched under their feet as they ran down Meandering Lane. They leaped into the back of the truck, landing beside a gaping Savvy.
“Did you hear that noise?” Savvy asked. “What the hell was that? Wait, Nor, what’s wrong with your hands —”
“Just drive,” Gage ordered.
Grayson started the engine. The truck launched down Stars-in-Their-Eyes Lane, and Charlie breathed a shaky sigh of relief as Meandering Lane quickly faded into the distance.
Gage leaned over to examine Nor’s hands. “Here, let me see.” For the first time, when he looked at her, Nor didn’t see resentment in his face but genuine concern. Or maybe it was awe. Either way, it made her uncomfortable. She pulled her hands away from him and examined them herself.
Scorched skin peeled like ribbons from her fingertips, and her palms were covered with bloody gouges and splinters of glass. Her head started to spin, and the world was slipping away like paint dripping down a canvas.
“Grayson!” she heard Savvy yell. “Pull over!”
The truck came to a halt in front of Reuben Finch’s log cabin. Gage reached for Nor, then everything faded to black.
When Nor came to, she was lying on a patch of grass along the side of the road. A rock dug into her shoulder blade. The clover beneath her head sank tiny claws into her scalp.
“Best thing is for me to get you all back up to the compound as soon as possible,” said a voice.
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” another voice hurried to say. “We can take ourselves.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “Sir.”
“Suit yourself. But you know, son, you might not mind having someone between yourself and Dauphine Coldwater.” Nor opened her eyes to see Reuben Finch standing over her, a heavy crease between his unruly eyebrows. “There she is. Welcome back.”
A bright-blue braid tickled Nor’s face. Savvy leaned in close and whispered, “Don’t worry. You were only out for a few minutes. And you didn’t puke.”
“Great.” Nor groaned. “Thanks.”
“What do you say about getting up and inside?” Reuben asked.
Nor stood up woozily, and Reuben helped her into the house. It had a faint animal smell, both pungent and sweet, that Nor hadn’t noticed the last time she’d been there. They passed through the kitchen and the living room with a large faded couch. Beside it, a framed picture of a little girl hung on the wall.
“All right, let’s see what you’ve gotten yourself into now,” Reuben said when they reached a washroom in the back of the house. He knelt in front of her. Nor looked away as he examined her ruined hands.
“These wounds look a lot like something I’ve treated on your grandmother’s hands a few times.” He caught Nor’s eye and chuckled. “Oh yes, I know all about you Blackburn women.” He pulled a pair of surgical tweezers out of a cupboard above the sink. Nor stared at the way the sharp pointed end glinted in the light.
“Not much more I can do, I’m afraid,” Reuben said after removing the splinters of glass from her hands. He turned on the faucet. “Run some cold water over your hands for a bit.”
He set the tweezers by the sink and pulled a tin from the cupboard. “It’s gonna hurt like all hell at first, but we’ll put some of this on it. Should at least make the pain tolerable till we can get you to Judd.”
Nor stuck her hands under the water. He was right. It hurt like hell. After a few minutes, she pulled her hands out, and Reuben gently patted a thick salve across her mangled palms. It smelled of vinegar. Nor’s pain, hot like fire, dulled to a quiet roar.
“Funny thing though,” Reuben said. “I don’t recollect hearing that you shared Judd’s talents.” He stood. “Red here must be right. I must be getting old.” The little fox waiting for him in the doorway gave an affectionate chirp and followed Reuben out of the room.
Nor had heard stories of how the pairing of a Blackburn daughter and her Burden might be made. Seeing Reuben with the little fox made Nor wonder if her Burden — her first Burden, that is — had come from her grandfather’s natural gift with animals. Perhaps she was more connected to her grandfather than she had previously thought.
“He has a good point, you know,” Gage said from the doorway. He’d wiped the blood from the side of his face. “I don’t remember you being able to do a few things I saw today.”
Shit, Nor thought. She stared down at her hands, the blisters glistening underneath the greasy balm. “I can explain —” she started.
Gage cut her off. “Since when did you start using black magic?”
“It’s not black magic!” Nor insisted. “There are things I can do, and I can’t explain why I can do them. I’ve tried to ignore them, but sometimes things just happen.” Nor bit her lip to keep it from trembling. “But it’s not black magic. I’m not my mother.”
“I never said that you were.”
Nor looked up, startled. “You believe me?”
“Why wouldn’t I? You said sometimes it just happens. Like when?”
Nor thought back to when she’d fought off her mother’s fern. She’d been scared then, just as much as she’d been when she saw Madge’s hands wrapped around Gage’s throat. And she was scared whenever she saw a lie. “I guess it mostly happens when I’m scared,” she said.
“Have you ever healed anyone before?”
“A few times,” she admitted. “I’ve never been able to do it on purpose before, though.”
“And the scream?”
“I have no idea what that was.”
“Sounded like the scream of a banshee.” Gage nodded knowingly. “The last Blackburn able to harness that kind of power was Rona.” He leaned against the doorframe. “So what else can you do?”
“Obviously nothing!” Nor blurted. “I couldn’t save Madge. We barely got out of there alive. And as for that scream, I have no fucking clue where that came from and even less of a clue on how I could manage to do it again! What else can I do? I can’t do anything!”
Gage stared at her. “And to think, I was almost impressed by you,” he finally said humorlessly. “Word of advice? I wouldn’t go showing just anyone what you can do. Not everyone is as open-minded as I am.”
He left, and Nor swiped at her wet eyes, her old scars screaming so loudly she could barely hear anything else. According to the myths, a banshee’s scream was an omen of death. The thought that, in this case, it could also be the cause of it was terrifying. She stared at those sharp tweezers on the edge of the sink. It would be so easy to just reach over, grab them, and hoard them in her pocket for later, when she was alone. She used to do that all the time. How many times had she waited until Apothia’s back was turned to filch one of the steak knives from the wall? Nor’s hand moved toward the tweezers. She watched her fingers close around them. She thought about Madge and all the ways she’d already failed today.
She hurled the tweezers across the room.