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Somehow, that feels important.
Or hands and knees. That works, too.
“Just get inside,” I tell myself, dropping. “We can get inside ourselves.”
The impact jars through me. The ground is so cold. Stubbornly, I grip each wooden bridge plank and crawl, unsure if the swaying is in my mind or the wind. My skirt keeps catching, ripping, and tangling in my legs. I hate it. I want to rip it off.
“We don’t need anyone to save us.” Tears prickle my eyes.
A gust of wind hits me with the scent of ice and pungent moat water. It lifts my hair and whips it into my eyes. I shake my head to clear it, but my stomach revolts. I swallow it down. An icy coffin waits beneath the planks. I’m sure the moat wasn’t this frozen when I last crossed.
Fox waits on the other side, worry etched into his handsome features.Stupid nice face.He must haveflickeredto get therefirst, to get a good view of the dumb Nothing on her hands and knees.
“That’s not fair.” Tinger berates me. “He’s never called you Nothing.”
“Except five years ago,” I counter.
“Maybe they called youanothing. Notnothing.”
“Oh, sonowyou talk to me,” I sob out. “When I’m drunk.”
“Just focus on crossing. Don’t look down. Eyes ahead.”
At the thought of Tinger, nightmares join the whirling in my mind. Water. Rory falling. The empty look in her eyes. Tinger’s little body, wheezing his last breath. My father’s disappointment. My mother’s apprehension. Dahlia’s weird behavior—I thought maybe she was being a friend. Alfie said I could trust her there, but she pushed me toward Milford.
Nothings don’t have names.
My limbs lock. My head hangs. My vision crowds and then panic hits. I reach into the skirt pocket, desperately fumbling for Tinger’s pendant. What if I lost him? What if he’s gone? What if he fell out during theflickering?
Relief courses through me as my fingers wrap around the glass. A sob bursts from my lips. Vaguely, I hear Fox ask if I’m okay. I clutch the pendant to my heart and rest my forehead on the cold wooden plank. It’s okay. He’s still here. He never left.
“We’re okay,” I mumble. “We’re okay.”
I imagine him puffing his furry chest and digging his broken antler into my ass, telling me to stop feeling sorry for myself, suck it up, and get going. Taking a deep breath, I lift my head and tuck the pendant into my skirt just as a gust of wind knocks me to the side. The pendant slips.
“No!” I reach, fumble, lurch. My fingertips slip over glass vial, and we both tip sideways.
I face the starry sky in freefall, surrounded by hair and a stormy skirt—my mind empties. I’m in shock. Is this why Rorylooked dead as she watched Cloud’s face grow smaller? A wall of icy concrete slams into my spine. The wind knocks out of me. I can’t breathe.
But I’m not dead.
I’m not drowning.
Trembling, I try to sit but swoon. Fox bellows in panic, scrambling down the bank from the bridge. He looks weird. Heflickersand stumbles. It’s like his brain is disconnected, too. Doesn’t his magic work?
“I’m okay.” My breath leaves a white cloud. I glance around, hunting for Tinger’s pendant.
It’s only five feet away. Triumph fills me so violently that my eyes burn. “I’m coming, Tinger.”
I’ll save you this time.
“Stop, Willow!”
“It’s okay,” I blurt, feeling better than I have in a while.
Adrenaline clears my head. I didn’t drown. Tinger is okay. I scramble on my hands and knees. All this time, I was worried about drowning, but I’m here. Sore, cold, but alive. Ice cuts my fingers as I slide my palm across the frozen moat, reaching for the leather cord.
“Got you,” I breathe, tugging him back to me.
