Emeline pulled it out and shut the drawer.
There were the shadow skins to contend with too, though. She’d run into one tonight. What if she ran into another? She needed to arm herself. But with what?
Pa used an ax to split wood. If she could remember where he kept it …
She heard Joel crack his knuckles on the other end of the line, then stretch. “Besides, I deserve a few vacation days.”
Emeline paused, hearing the resolution in his voice. Panic pricked her like a needle. When Joel made his mind up about a thing, there was no changing it. He did what he wanted to do. Always. Joel’s persistence was the reason he and Emeline first got together. She hadn’t been interested in her manager’s son. But Joel refused to give up, and Emeline eventually relented, deciding to give him a chance.
“Don’t come all the way out here,” she said, walking over to where Pa’s tools hung in neat rows down the wall. “I know you have these quaint ideas about small towns, but trust me: they’re not your style.”
She stood a little beyond the light of the workbench, remembering where the ax usually hung: below the hammers. Emeline scanned down the row. But the space beneath was empty. The ax was gone.
Emeline chewed her lip.Where would he put it?
“Fine,” Joel huffed. “But if you change your mind, even if it’s three am, call me, all right? Call me if you need me.”
“I’ll call you if I need you,” she repeated.
“I love you, Em.”
Those words froze her in place.
Emeline only ever spoke those words to the rare few who deserved them: Pa, Tom, Maisie. People who’d raised her and loved her unconditionally. Saying the words to Joel would turn their casual hookups into something very different. Something she didn’t want.
Too much time had passed.Emeline needed to say something back. But all she could manage was, “Okay. Thanks.”
Joel sighed from the other end. “Try to get some sleep.”
The moment he hung up, Emeline pushed the conversation out of her mind and gripped Pa’s flashlight hard in her hand. She needed to find that ax and get back to the woods.
South, the trees had told her.Follow the river.
She didn’t stop to think about how taking directions from trees was not something rational people did. If she thought like that, she might not go back in. And Emeline knew in her blood and bones and sinew that Pa wasn’t on this side of the tree line. So, if she needed to take directions from freaking trees, that’s what she would do.
“Where the heck is that ax?”
“This ax?” a voice said archly from behind her.
Emeline spun.
A figure stood in the doorway leading out of the garage. The shape of Pa’s wood-splitting ax hung loose at their side. Emeline held up the old yellow flashlight and pressed the ON button. It clicked, but nothing happened.
She pressed again.
Still nothing.
Because of course.
“What exactly do you plan on using it for?” The figure raised the ax, turning it back and forth in their hand, examining its sharpened edge.
“Who are you?” Emeline demanded.
The figure stepped out of the doorway and into the garage. Emeline stepped quickly back and bumped into the corner of Pa’s workbench. It shuddered. Loose nails scattered and fell, clinking to the floor. Emeline glanced to the wall lined with tools. If this person came any closer, she would lunge for one of the hammers.
They didn’t come closer. Instead, they reached up and tugged. The lightbulb overheadflick-flick-flickeredto life, revealing a young man standing in the glow.
A glossy black raven perched on his shoulder.
