“Is there any chance I can talk you out of it?”
“None at all.”
With a frustrated growl, I march into the woods. I give him the cold shoulder all the way to the cabin. When we arrive, the big, black rooster is waiting.
“He’s quite large,” Rafe says.
“Zuul is harmless,” I reply, not even pausing on my way to the porch.
“You named the rooster?”
“After a supernatural minion tasked with opening a gateway for Gozer.” I climb the stairs and turn around. “It’s from Ghostbusters.”
But Rafe isn’t listening.
He’s having a face-off with the rooster. I watch, amused, as he makes a wide birth. The bird puffs its feathers and flaps its wings and Rafe sprints for the porch like it is base in a high-stakes game of tag.
I stare at him drolly. “Seriously?”
“What?” he says, running his hand through his hair.
“You’re afraid of chickens?”
“You could say I’ve had a few bad encounters.”
“You have a history with roosters?”
“My uncle had some very aggressive hens when I was a boy.”
I peer at him, trying to imagine Rafe with an uncle. Rafe as a child. But my brain is incapable of conjuring the image. I turn to Mistress Bramble’s door and knock.
Nobody answers.
Behind me, Rafe fiddles with the wind chime, which is mostly made of small bones. “This isn’t creepy or anything.”
I try looking into the grimy windows, but the curtains are drawn.
There’s no smoke stack coming from the chimney, either.
I shouldn’t be surprised.
It’s not like I’ve ever reached Mistress Bramble on a whim.
Still, my shoulders slump.
A frigid breeze curls through the yard.
The bones on the wind chime clack.
And somewhere in the distance, comes the faint sound of whistling.
I cock my head as another breeze sweeps through the trees, bringing with it the whisper of my name.
“Selah?” Rafe inquires, for I have stepped past him, off the porch. I keep going to the tree line, where I peer down a snow-covered path.
“It’s her,” I say.
Mistress Bramble.
