She’s here, with her back to us, foraging in the undergrowth. What she could possibly find in the dead of winter, I have no idea. Nor do I much care.
“Selah, wait,” Rafe says.
But I don’t listen.
I’m too relieved to wait. Too eager. With the sketchpad clutched between both hands, I hurry down the path, briars snagging at my jeans. “Mistress Bramble?” I call.
She stops foraging.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you like this, but some things have happened and I was wondering if you?—”
Rafe pulls me to a stop.
Mistress Bramble straightens and slowly turns around.
Something is off.
It’s her, but she looks funny.
The lacerations on my arm tingle as she tilts her head, looking from me to Rafe. I kick myself for letting him come. They might not have met, but Mistress Bramble is no ordinary woman. She has second sight. Of course she would sense who he is,whathe is.
Her body convulses.
“Are you okay?” I ask, stepping forward.
Rafe holds out his arm like a barrier.
I push it aside.
“Selah, that’s not?—”
Mistress Bramble stumbles forward, clutching her middle. Alarm shoots through my extremities. I think she might throw up. Or maybe she’s choking. She opens her mouth in a scream, but instead of sound, a whorl of shadow escapes. It twists and turns in the air like a terrifying storm cloud.
No, not a cloud.
A swarm.
“Run!” Rafe shouts.
I don’t argue.
With terror clawing up my throat, I turn on my heel and do exactly what Rafe says. I run. I sprint as fast as I can. My foot catches on a root. I land so hard on the ground, the wind is knocked out of me and the sketchpad goes flying.
Rafe pulls me to my feet and urges me forward.
We burst out of the trees, into the open yard, and the black roiling swarm can’t get through. It recoils from the winter sunlight, sweeping along the tree line as though trying to find a workaround. All the while, hair-raising voices hiss my name, each one sounding exactly like Mistress Bramble.
“Go,” Rafe says, backing away.
I don’t have to be told twice.
I run along the narrow footpath, all the way back to the road, where our cars are parked in the snow.
All is calm and quiet except for our panting.
“What were you thinking?” Rafe breathes. “Common Sense 101, Selah. If you hear your name called in the woods, you don’t go investigating.”
“What was that?” I ask, clutching a stitch in my side.
