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"No," he whispered, a light flashing in his eyes. "Life's been harsh the past few years. I miss the Queen. She was fair and just."
"Will you tell us what happened?" Rhiannon asked. She placed a light hand on his shoulder. He gazed at her, a slow sadness filling his eyes.
He likes her, Ulean whispered.
I nodded, slowly. I could see it in his face. Chatter shivered under her touch as she stroked his arm lightly. I glanced at Leo, who was not looking pleased.
"We need to know what's going on. My mother's disappeared, and a friend. We don't know if they're alive or dead."
Relieved she didn't spill Grieve's secret and let on that he'd already told us they were alive, I relaxed for a moment.
Chatter closed his eyes. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry about all of this. I wish you hadn't come back, Cicely--not to face this mess. And Miss Rhiannon . . . your mother and your friend . . . I wish I could help."
His eyes misted over and he hung his head. "We fought them. So much death. So much blood. We fought and fought. Grieve led a band of us deep into the Barrow and we tried to sneak the women and children out through the portal to the other side. But they caught up with us. There was so much blood and screaming, and little children torn to bits." He wiped his eyes with one hand, but the catch in his voice was like a rusty hinge and I knew he'd been broken.
"Oh, Chatter." Rhiannon slid her arms around his shoulders and he leaned into her embrace. "I wouldn't bring up the memories but we need your help. We need all the help we can get. Will you tell us what happened to Grieve?"
He blinked. "We were caught. They were going to feed on me but Grieve begged them to spare me. They drank him down to the gate of death and then made him drink. Then he just . . . he recovered--so fast. And when he stood again, he looked so strange. His eyes changed. Grieve changed. He looked like a wild child and I was afraid he'd finish me off himself, but he just said, Let me keep him. He's lazy and useless but he amuses me. My friend would never have said that before the change."
"And they agreed?" I quietly shifted my weight. My feet were going a little numb in the cold but I didn't want to break the mood.
"Yes. So I stay with Grieve most of the time. The others hate me, but Grieve . . . he tries to be himself. I can tell he doesn't like what he's become. He would never treat you so oddly, Cicely, if this hadn't happened to him. There's a constant battle going on inside. I can see it in his eyes. He's always at war with himself."
Chatter crouched on the ground, ignoring the snow. He rested against the tree trunk. "I get tired, so I come out here and breathe the illusion of freedom."
"Do you want to come home with us? We can help you. You could leave town, get away." I had no idea how we'd manage it but the offer slipped out before I could stop myself.
But Chatter shook his head. "Thanks, Miss Cicely. You and Miss Rhiannon, you're good friends, even though I only really knew you when you were children. But I'm afraid I wouldn't get far. You'd be in trouble and I'd end up dead. And besides . . ."
"Besides what?" What more could there be than to get away and not look back? But Chatter's answer silenced the cynic in me.
"I help keep Grieve sane. Without me he'd give way, fully turn into one of them. And I can't do that to him. He was my best friend at one time. Shadow Hunter or not, Grieve's still my blood-oath brother."
I wanted to do something . . . anything . . . to help. But there was nothing we could do if he refused.
"I understand. Chatter, will you at least promise not to mention you saw us or talked to us?"
He inclined his head. "I won't give you away. I promise you that." He slowly rose and dusted his hands on his pants. "I'd better go now, before they miss me. I don't want them to come looking for me and find you." Turning, he added, "But be careful. These woods are laden with creatures that could rip you apart. If I were you, I'd go home. Seriously, the woodland is tainted. I don't know if it can ever recover."
I bit my lip, wanting to take him by the hand, drag him home, and send him off on a bus somewhere, but I stepped back. If we interfered too much, we'd only get him in trouble. Or dead.
"Go then, before they sense us. But Chatter . . . if you do see my aunt--Rhiannon's mother--or our friend Peyton . . . if you think of something that can help, then please, let us know."
Chatter nodded. Then, turning to go, he stopped. "The owl's been looking for you, by the way, Cicely. He asks for you, every day. I'd help, but I'm just . . . don't count on me." He shook his head. "I'm useless. But soon, you must find the owl. If the Shadow Hunters find it, they'll kill it. They hate owls. And--don't trust spiders. The spiders of the wood watch and listen. They're Myst's pets."
He ran then, so fast I could barely track him. In mere moments, he was gone.
We made our way up the other side of the ravine in silence. I could tell the others were itching to discuss the meeting with Chatter, but this wasn't the time nor place for that.
Once we were at the top of the ravine, the going was quicker and we moved silently through the path, our sounds muffled by the snowfall. The clouds had moved in and now a light flurry had started, softening our footsteps even more. Although still overgrown, the trail wasn't as bad as it had been back in the ravine. Someone had to be keeping it under control, and my guess was the Indigo Court. The light fell through the trees in an odd, slanted way, and the silver-tinged sky lent an air of foreboding to the disturbing ambience that filtered through the woodland.
I kept my eyes open for the stand of red huckleberries. I knew them by sight, even without the berries in blossom. Blue huckleberries grew more frequently over the Cascades, in eastern Washington. I was beginning to wonder if Grieve's instructions were right when, within a few minutes, I saw a thick patch of them ahead--there must have been twenty or thirty bushes in one grouping.
"Start looking for the Faerie ring. Don't step inside of it--we need to go around it. Grieve was clear on that. Don't step inside the ring of toadstools."
I glanced around. Toadstools were another commonality in the forest--their growth spurred on by the dampness and the thick decay that littered the forest floor. Moss grew heavy in these woods, and ferns, and all plants misty and magical. That they'd be up during the snow was odd, but then again, this was a magical wood and the Fae could work wonders with the flora.
We slowly passed through the stand of huckleberries and I was beginning to wonder yet again if we'd made a wrong turn when Leo said, "I found it."
