Somewhere in the distance, I catch the faint sound of male voices. Shouting. I cock my ear and try to track the direction, but the relentless rain makes it impossible.
We have to keep going. We can’t leave Kate out here alone.
“Lizzy, look!” Rachel grabs my arm and points to a denser part of the woods.
I squint in the direction she indicated, finally spotting it for myself—a trail of unseasonably bright green ferns, lined with blooms in a riot of pinks and yellows and reds. Spring and summer flowers blossoming to life in the dead of fall.
“Kate,” I breathe, the warmth in my chest intensifying, and we take off at a run, sloshing through the mud, following the path of strange flowers uphill.
“There!” Rachel says, and I see her, too, sitting at the base of a hawthorn tree, barefoot and jacketless, cradling an armload of flowers. The grass and shrubs beneath her are the lush, impossible green of a fairytale garden.
When Kate sees us, she smiles beatifically. A painting come to life. “They were calling for me,” she says. “I had to come.”
“I know, sweetie.” I crouch down beside her. Touch her shoulder. “But now we need to go back home.”
She looks at me with abject agony. “They’re my babies. They need me.”
Voices again, this time from up ahead. Closer now. The sky flickers orange and purple. Seconds later, an explosion rips through the night, reverberating off the trees. I can’t tell whether it’s thunder or a gunshot.
“Why don’t you bring them with you?” I say.
Another flash. Another crack. Rachel’s eyes widen, frantically scanning the woods.
“The trees are too big to carry.” Kate leans her head back against the trunk of the hawthorn. The leaves, withered and brown a second ago, turn green with new life.
Rachel gasps. “Lizzy, what the fuck is going on?”
“Her magic,” I reply. “Her innate power must have something to do with plants. Growing things.”
“Does anyone have innate power with something to do with bullets? Because I’m pretty sure we?—”
“Come out, come out, little witch whores!” comes the dark call, echoing through the trees and drilling deep into my skull. “The hunters want to play.”
The voice is strange and raspy, but I’d recognize it anywhere.
Brendan.
That motherfucker is still alive.
“Get her arms!” I shout-whisper at Rachel. “Come on!”
We haul Kate to her feet, her flowers scattering. She tries to grab for them, but we’re already dragging her away.
“My babies!” she cries. “My precious babies!”
Everywhere her feet touch the earth, more flowers bloom.
So, yay for cool plant magic? But I seriously hope this little side trip to la-la land is a temporary vacation and not a permanent stay.
“We’ll come back for them later,” I say, attempting to soothe her. “Right now we have to hide.”
“From what?” Her voice is dreamy, her limbs like overcooked noodles.
“From—”
“Dizzy. So nice to see you again.”
My stomach drops to my feet, and I release Kate’s arm and shift in front of her just as Brendan steps out from behind a tree.
