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Grey pulled his bag over his head and abandoned it next to the bike in favor of dipping down next to him, his hands immediately going for his outstretched leg. Noel’s neck heated, and he snapped his face to the sky, pretending to find the sparse collection of clouds more interesting than the boy tending to his wounds like a doting partner.
Lavender wilted as the pain subsided, and Noel’s arms gave way for him to lie flat, giving in to exhaustion. “Thank you.”
Grey stared down at the browning patch of grass next to them, slowly shaking his head. “Don’t thank me. This is my fault.”
Noel scrambled to push himself up. “What are you talking about? Grey, we both walked into that shop, knowing that something could go wrong?—”
“Knowing that they might turn us in to the Hunt, not—” He motioned helplessly back toward where they came before running his hands through his hair. Even his unseeing eye appeared to be searching for answers in the dirt. “I shouldn’t have touched that crystal.”
“You didn’t know.” The words were firm and gentle, hoping Grey felt the full impact of his empathy. That renewed urge to grab his hand again was quickly deterred by Grey wrapping his arms around himself. Noel leaned forward, trying to catch his gaze. “Did they do anything to you? Are you hurt?”
“Doctor Cavan gave something my name. They clawed their way into my dream and started hunting me, but I couldn’t see them. I could hear them though…” Grey swiped at his face, trying to hide the fearful tear that slipped out, cracking Noel’s heart. “And feel them when they touched me. I don’t know why they want me, but?—”
Noel reached for him this time, cupping Grey’s arms. “Did Trin say how to get rid of them? I heard something, but only bits and pieces.”
“To offer them something greater.” He loosed a bitter laugh. “I don’t even know what that constitutes, but I’d imagine anything would be greater than me unless this thing is so twisted they just want someone to rip apart.”
“Don’t say that.” Noel’s fingertips pressed into the loose fabric, relishing Grey’s warmth. “I said I’d help us escape the Hunt, and we’ll get you out of this too. We’ll find something to make them leave us alon—” He stopped, staring past Grey at the drooping, browned lavender. “Maybe that’s how we get out of the Hunt.”
Grey’s head tilted ever-so-slightly, his face winkling in confusion.
“A trade. They want us for the Wild Hunt in exchange for not breaking the veil, but if we give them something they consider greater, they might let us go, right?”
“Noel, what could the fair folk possibly want more than fear and bloodshed?”
He bit his lip, letting his hands fall away from Grey’s arms to rest on top of his own head. “Well… Didn’t the Wild Hunt begin because the fair folk were upset with everything we’d built to destroy nature? Would giving them something to protect or heal it make up for that?” He plucked the now-brittle lavender from its stem, watching it crumble in his grasp.
“I’m pretty sure they already have that with us being under their rule.”
“Yeah, but—” He groaned, rocking back again and throwing his hands into the grass. “There’s got to be something… A book, a relic…”
Grey’s brows knit together. “What would they do with either of those?”
“Well, do you have a better idea?”
He tore up a couple of the browning blades, his eyes unfocused, and Noel instantly regretted the jab. He leaned forward again, careful not to brush against Grey’s hands as he picked through some of the grass with him.
“Sorry,” Noel whispered. “I shouldn’t have?—”
“It’s okay.” He wiped his hands on his pants with a sigh. “Neither of us know enough about what the fair folk want, but you’re at least trying. I’m just… drawing a blank.”
Noel shifted, pulling his leg under him. “What did the fair folk say when they talked to you in your dream? Maybe that would give us an idea?”
Grey shook his head. “Nothing, outside of calling me their little finch and saying I’ll be theirs soon.” He shivered, and Noel’s fingers dug into his leg before he glanced over to Grey’s bag.
Like hell he’d let some fair folk rip his only ally away. Noel leaned over, dragging it next to them as he rummaged around for the map. The worn, crumpled paper fell open in his hands and his sights fell on Ivywood. He turned the name over his mind again and again, trying to recall where or why he remembered it. Pointing his finger at the spot on the map and holding it out toward Grey, he asked, “Do you know anything about Ivywood?”
The way he gently slid the map from Noel’s grasp—their fingers brushing for a mere moment—made his heart race. He tucked his hand under his thigh as he watched Grey mull over it, as if pinning down the offending limb would suppress his ridiculous pining.
“Isn’t Ivywood known for looting? I think I’ve heard about fair folk running wild there more than once because of thieves and how close it is to the woods.”
Noel sat up straight, his father’s recollection of his Calling’s travels surfacing in his mind. “They’ve also recovered books from manmade ruins—history books. I think they store it all in an iron-laced bunker or something just in case the walls are breached.”
The paper crinkled, buckling under Grey’s grip. “Trin told me not to step foot in the woods.”
Before Noel could process what he was doing, he grabbed Grey’s arm again. “We won’t go in the woods. And if we go near it, I’ll make sure nothing gets you, okay?” He slowly let go, Grey’s sleeve catching his thumb as he chided himself for continuously trying to touch him. “You keep us patched up and walking, and I’ll keep the fair folk away. We’re a team. That’s the only way we’re going to be able to make it through this, all right?”
Grey gave a hesitant nod, folding up the map again while Noel pushed himself to his feet. He held a hand down for Grey, his heart starting to sink at the way he paused. But he took it, restoring the hope of the little, greedy thing coiled inside Noel that didn’t want to let Grey out of his sight anymore. Grey was his new comfort—his anchor. A constant in a new world of unknowns.
