Pike and Sena Crowe leaped from the vehicle as soon as the yellow Jeep pulled up in front of Reuben’s cabin. Pike was barely through the door when he grabbed Gage by the front of his shirt. “What the fuck, Gage? We told you to stay put.”
“We handled it, okay?” Gage spat, struggling to free himself.
“Yeah, you handled it all right, cuz. A woman is dead, her business destroyed. Not to mention you put Nor at risk when it’s our job to keep her safe.”
“Wait, it’s not his fault,” Nor protested. “I was the one who —”
“No,” Gage interrupted. “He’s right. It was my idea.” He looked at Pike. “You’re just jealous you missed all the action.”
“You’re a real moron sometimes, you know that? I mean, I knew you were a dumb ass, but you put Nor — and everyone else — in danger today.” Pike glanced at Nor and shook his head. “The fury the Giantess is going to rain down on you.”
Before they left Reuben Finch’s house, Nor took a last look at the picture of that little girl hanging on the wall. Neglect had clung to Nor like a bad smell back then.
On the drive back to the compound, she thought of the lumpy sweat-stained mattress she’d shared with her mother; she thought of how incense from the Witching Hour had filled her little room and made her cough. Mostly, however, she thought of Madge.
Madge hadn’t grown tired of Nor the way Fern often did. Fern had delighted in Nor’s presence one moment and then thought her a pest in the next, like a tiresome puppy. Children, like puppies, required care. Caring for something had never been Fern’s strong suit. Fortunately for Nor, she’d had Madge.
Madge had given Nor a book of fairy tales for her eighth birthday and read to her sometimes before bed. Madge’s favorite had been the story of a woman determined to rescue her child from the cold clutches of death. It was a story of self-sacrifice and unconditional love, but what Nor remembered most was the illustration of the poor woman crying her eyes out — her eyes literally dropping, like pearls, out of her head and into a great lake. The ending hadn’t been a happy one.
If only Madge had figured out what Nor had: that a wish for a love like the kind found in fairy tales was a wish that should never be granted. Fairy tales were ugly and gruesome things. Like Rona had, Nor preferred the Greek myths. At least those were meant to be tragic.
When they reached the compound, they were met by a full-blown typhoon in the shape of Dauphine and Judd.
“In that head, underneath all that goddamn hair, is there a brain, girlie?” Judd bellowed, pounding her fist against Dauphine’s table.
Nor slumped in her chair, eyes down. Am I actually supposed to answer that? she thought.
“And would you like that head to stay above ground,” Judd continued, “or should I call Apothia and tell her to grab a shovel and start digging you a grave?”
“Now you wait just a minute,” Dauphine interjected. Nor had to hand it to her. The woman barely reached Judd’s midsection when standing, but she was a force to be reckoned with nonetheless. “If I know my grandchildren as well as I think I do, I’m going to assume Nor didn’t act alone.” And she pinned Gage with an icy glare before turning back to Judd. “For that, I assure you, there will be consequences.”
Nor watched the color drain from Charlie’s face.
“The girl’s here now,” said Everly, the man in the cowboy hat. “She’s safe. And there’s nowhere safer. Do we agree?” Judd nodded reluctantly. “Then it’s settled,” he determined, and leaned back in his chair. “We just need to make sure she stays here.” He winked at Nor.
“It is certainly not settled,” Judd boomed.
“Our family hasn’t lost a Blackburn woman yet, and you know it,” Everly huffed. “Though sometimes at the expense of one of our own.” Gage’s expression, Nor noted, had turned particularly steely at that comment.
“Judd is well aware of the sacrifices our family has made.” Dauphine fixed her gaze on Nor’s grandmother. “That said, Judd,” she continued, “I think it’s about time you stop being such a pain in my ass and let us do our job. Everly is right. You will all be safer up here with us.”
Judd folded her arms across her chest. “Fine.”
Dauphine jumped into action before Judd could change her mind. “Nor, you’ll continue to stay here for the time being. Sena Crowe, please take the Oliveira boys, and —” She peered at Savvy through the jeweled spectacles balanced at the end of her nose. “I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t catch your name?”
“Savannah Dawson,” Savvy said with a small curtsy. “Guardian of Unwanted Things.”
The corners of Dauphine’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Sena Crowe, please escort the Oliveira boys and Savannah, Guardian of Unwanted Things, next door. They can stay with you and Charlie for the night. And be sure to tell your mother I apologize for the inconvenience.” She turned to Everly. “I take it you have the rest covered?”
“No one will get in or out of the compound without one of us knowing about it this time,” Everly asserted. “I can guarantee that.”
“As for the two of you,” Dauphine said to Charlie and Gage, “clearly my reservations about allowing you to join your cousins were sound.”
Gage opened his mouth to contest, and she held up a finger. “If I were you, I’d spend most of my time from this point on proving to me that you can be trusted, which will not be an easy task.”
Gage and Charlie nodded solemnly, and Nor burned with shame. It had been her idea to leave the compound. She should have been the one taking the blame, but when she caught Gage’s eye, he shook his head, and Nor kept her mouth shut.
Judd reached across the table and took Nor’s hands in hers. “Now,” Judd said, “I got more than a few things back home that need tending to. I’m going to trust that you’ll stay put.” She prodded at Nor’s wounds. Some of the blisters had already crusted over. “You want to tell me what you got into this time?”
Nor considered telling her grandmother that she seemed to have inherited the healing touch, that Gage’s pain had burned blisters into her skin. Gage had believed her, but what did he know? He’d never seen the effects of black magic like Nor and Judd had. What if Nor could do all these things because there was something bad in her? By telling Judd, she might be forcing her grandmother to confirm what Nor had always feared: that whatever rotten thing that was inside of Fern was inside of Nor as well.
“I’m not sure,” Nor finally mumbled.
Judd grunted, and Nor tried not to glance at the purple cloud she’d sent floating into the air. Before she had time to gasp, her pain fell to the table as tiny ice crystals, and the wounds disappeared.
“This is exciting,” Savvy said as Pike led them through the compound.
“Savvy,” Nor chided, “you’re staying because they think you’ll be safer here than on the main part of the island. Doesn’t that make you nervous? Don’t you at least want to call and warn your dad?”
Savvy shrugged and flipped one of her long blue braids over her shoulder. “Nah. He’s a tough old guy.”
As they passed under the fountain, Savvy stopped to stare at the statue’s impressive physique. “Her breasts are totally perfect,” she said in awe, moving from one side of the fountain to the other. “Look at her nipples. Oh my God, they follow me wherever I go.”
“Jealous?” Grayson teased.
Savvy rolled her eyes. “Please. That statue should be jealous of me.”
“Oh yeah? About what exactly?” Grayson mocked, luridly sizing her up.
Savvy leaned in, as if she were about to share some great confidence with him. “My nipples are pierced,” she said. The expression on Grayson’s face was priceless.
“Um — when did you get your nipples pierced?” Nor asked after Grayson had pulled away.
“What? Oh, I didn’t. I just wanted to shut him up.”
Nor smiled. “I missed you.”
Savvy hooked her arm through Nor’s and grinned. “Right back atcha, babe.”
Nor sighed before collapsing facedown onto the couch in Dauphine’s basement. Bijou, who had been asleep on a pillow, grumbled in annoyance. “I’m sorry,” Nor muttered.
Outside, a chilly rain had descended upon the island. Savvy was on the staircase, trying to flirt with Nor’s new personal guard, whose job was apparently to follow Nor everywhere — even, to Nor’s mortification, to the bathroom.
“Well?” Nor asked as soon as Savvy came into the room. Reed followed quietly behind her, and for one exasperating second, he was all she could see. He’s like gravity, Nor thought. It didn’t matter what else was going on. Looking at him, she understood why the tides were so captivated by the moon. It was ridiculous.
“Didn’t even say hello,” Savvy replied. Nor’s new guard was far less agreeable than Pike; in fact, he made Sena Crowe look downright amiable. This guy wore a permanent scowl.
Savvy sighed dramatically and flopped down across the couch. “And I even brought him Red Vines!”
“That’s not what I’m asking about, and you know it,” Nor said.
“But don’t worry,” Savvy continued unnecessarily loudly. “I’ve got a plan. I’m bringing him gummy bears tomorrow.” Satisfied, Savvy then leaned in close to Nor and whispered, “Okay, no idea when they’re letting you out. You might have to plan on growing old down here. The only reason we were even able to come over is because we volunteered to get sleeping bags.” She looked around the crowded basement with interest. “There’s supposed to be a bunch down here somewhere.”
“Be my guest,” Nor said with a sigh. Savvy grinned, and they quickly lost her to the boxes and abandoned furniture piled everywhere.
Nor and Reed shared a small smile. Nor still couldn’t believe he was here. After everything Reed had heard, everything he’d seen, no one would have blamed him for turning around and running for his life, never giving Nor another thought. But he hadn’t.
That was something, wasn’t it?
“I’m guessing you have a lot of questions,” Nor said nervously.
“Savvy kind of filled me in,” he admitted.
“So you know that I’m —”
“A witch?” He chuckled. “Yeah, I know.” He brushed some hair away from her face. “But I already knew there was something special about you.”
“I don’t feel special.” Nor glanced outside, noting that the storm had intensified. “I feel afraid,” she admitted softly. Even if she tried, even if it mattered, she’d still lose. Hadn’t she proven it by not being able to save Madge? Wasn’t her skin covered with scars from every battle she’d ever fought and lost?
The room was suddenly lit by a bolt of lightning, and thunder crashed around them. The lights flickered. Savvy emerged from the other side of the room carrying three multicolored sleeping bags. A clock in the shape of a topless mermaid was tucked under one arm. “I cannot believe the amount of crap Dauphine has down here,” she said wistfully. “This place is the stuff of dreams.” She headed up the stairs, weighted by her bundle. “Don’t worry, Nor,” she called over her shoulder. “We will plan your escape from Azkaban tomorrow.”
“Stay here,” Nor begged Reed. “At least until you get kicked out.”
As the rain beat against the windows, Reed wrapped his arms around her, brought his mouth to her collarbone, and lightly kissed her there. “For the record,” he said before leaving, “I don’t think being afraid is necessarily a bad thing. It means you’re smart. Besides, being afraid doesn’t seem to stop you. You’re still here. You’re still fighting. And I’m pretty sure that makes you the bravest person I know.”
A few hours later, Nor’s little room was lit by a solitary candle. Nor licked her finger and passed it over the flame. The flame danced. It was beautiful; so beautiful it was easy to forget that it could be dangerous as well. Or perhaps it seemed beautiful because it was dangerous. Just like the storm that raged outside her room. Just like her mother.
Nor blew out the candle and pulled the blankets up to her chin. Fern was just as frightening to her now as she’d been when Nor was a child. Could there be any truth to what Reed had said? Her skin was marked with scars, but maybe they didn’t have to be reminders of all the times she’d let fear win, but rather of when she’d found the strength to keep fighting in spite of fear. Nor’s eyes grew heavy and closed before she could answer herself.
Nor found herself standing in a bathroom of a derelict and abandoned hotel. The marble sink was slick with slime. The floor sparkled with shattered glass. The rain beat upon the dilapidated roof.
A faint sound, like that of a ripped seam, caught her attention. She looked down and watched with detached interest as the skin on her legs, as cracked as a dry riverbed, split open. Blood trickled to the floor. She grimaced in disgust.
They didn’t heal, these wounds. Nor poked a red-taloned finger into a particularly deep and ugly gash on her arm, and then smeared the gore across the reflection in the tarnished, gilded mirror.
The skin on her mother’s face was split, tiny black scabs on her cheeks looking like the cracks of a broken cup. She ran her fingers through her hair, and red strands floated to the floor.
She spat blood into the sink.
When she twisted on the bathtub faucet, the spigot coughed and sputtered before a trickle of brown water came out. When the tub was full enough, Nor slid into the cold, dirty water and raked her nails across the scabs on her body. Blood stained the muddy water pink.
Look at what she’d been reduced to. “And for what?” Nor rasped. There was no longer anything saccharine in that voice. Even her own gift — her delicious form of mind control — had waned.
She needed the girl. It had been her spilled blood that had brought him back in the first place, her sacrifice that had started it all. She looked more like him than ever. She also looked like Judd. She’d happily carve out any similarities the girl had to either. She just needed a way to get to her.
A bolt of lightning opened up the sky like a vein. Shortly after, the horizon began to glow red with fire, and Nor saw a spectacle she’d never seen before. She didn’t think there was anything but trees on that side of the island, but shadowy forms towered over the tree line. They were glaring at her with irksome, all-seeing eyes.
The fire spread and the sky grew brighter. Nor dug her fingertips into the nail bed of her opposite hand. Slowly, she pulled out her blackened nails, one by one, then dropped them to the bathroom floor.
Nor awoke with a start, the red of her mother’s blood painted on the insides of her eyelids. Her cheeks burned as if from a fever. Heat licked the side of her body. The room was on fire.