Page 89 of Heart of Mischief

… revealing a furry brown forehead, no red swirl in sight.

Charlie exhaled, slumping over. “Oh, thank the gods.”

Henry hopped off the tree trunk, sending colors of relief into her head.

“Odin’s wrinklybutthole,” Lou said breathlessly. “I thought we were goners.”

“Me, too,” said Charlie, heart thudding in her ears. She watched the squirrel scamper away, off to find an acorn or climb a tree or perform whatever other non-nefarious activities it had planned. “But we’re safe. For now, at least.”

“Oh gods.” Lou let out a breathy laugh. “Maggie Matine and Kate Leibowitz are staring. They think we’ve lost our minds.”

Charlie craned her head, spotting the girls huddled beside a patch of juniper. They were indeed staring. And pointing. And whispering.

Lou elbowed Charlie in the side. “Just like old times, right?”

Charlie snorted. It was true; in middle school, they’d always been the extroverted oddballs. The ones who ran the fastest and yelled the loudest and wore the most ridiculous costumes on Halloween. It was funny to think that they were right back where they started.

It was funny. Them screaming and jumping up onto a stump was funny.

But it also wasn’t funny. Not at all.

Because the truth was, that squirrel easily could have been Rattatosk. Any of the squirrels could be.

Anywhere, at any point, death could be waiting.

31

The squirrel paranoia followedCharliethe restof the day. Through afternoon bird-spotting, through dinner and s’mores (the chaperones tried to get everyone to share their “rose and thorn” of the day but were continually interrupted by Mason and his senior buddies reenacting lightsaber fights with still-burning marshmallows on the ends of their sharpened sticks). Every time a squirrel scampered past, Charlie tensed, hand darting to her secret pants pocket, where she could feel the comforting outline of the Valkyrie knife.

After his time away from school, it took Elias all of one afternoon horsing around in the woods to reingratiate himself with Mason’s rowdy group of friends. None of them seemed to care where Elias had been or why he had come back. They cared only that he was tall, handsome, and willing to drink beers with them later that night.

Mason was the only one not welcoming Elias back with open arms. He kept his distance, always moving to the opposite end of the group from wherever Elias was. Still, he never warned his friends about Elias directly. How could he? What would he even say?

Though Elias spent most of the day with Mason’s friends, Charlie sensed that he was always watching. Tracking her movements, staying aware of her surroundings. Every time she glanced over, he was staring innocently up at the sky, as if he’d just looked away.

Still, he didn’t approach her. Not for the entire day.

By the time ten p.m. rolled around, the chaperone-mandatedlights-out time, not one member of the junior or senior class was tired. They put on a good show—exaggerated yawns and stretches and declarations of how much they couldn’t wait to get some shut eye—but the whole campsite vibrated with anticipation. It was like a living thing, like an invisible cloud of älvor that ran all throughout the sea of tents, buzzing and visceral. No one would have any issues staying awake until it was time to sneak out. Especially Charlie, who would be sharing a tent with two of the chattiest women alive.

It wasn’t until after everyone brushed their teeth and crawled into their tents (Henry included, wiggling through the zipper with Abigail and Lou) that Charlie felt the unmistakable prickle on the back of her neck that meant Elias was approaching.

She was hunched over her duffel, tucking her toothbrush and toothpaste into a Ziploc bag. He was moving quietly over the brush behind her. But she knew he was there. She could feel his presence, as surely as a hunted animal senses impending death.

“Are you going to hover there like a stalker,” she asked, “or do you actually have something to say?”

“I always prefer stalking. But I can come up with something to talk about if you want me to.”

Charlie stuffed the plastic bag into her duffel and zipped it shut. “I would prefer it if you didn’t.”

“Aww,” said Elias, and she could hear the pout in his voice. “And here I thought we were finally getting along.”

Standing up and turning around, Charlie slung the duffel over her shoulder. “We are. Or maybe that’s too generous. I would say it’s more like we’re no longer at each other’s throats.”

“Pity.” Elias walked right up to her, his eyes sparkled dangerously. “I quite like being at your throat.”

Charlie exhaled, looking quickly down at the forest floor. “Stop trying to make me nervous just to feed your need for human fear.”

“Oh, there’s no need for me to do that,” he said. “You’re alreadyvibrating with more than enough fear to keep me satiated. You have been all day.”