These Lying Eyes (15 page)

Chapter 12

P
oppy’s grandmother was gone when Mina got home. But, she found Sarah sitting up, pale and wan.

“How are you feeling?”

“Achy.”

Mina leaned against the doorjamb accidentally nudging her bite, and was barely able to hide a yelp. Once she caught her breath, she asked, “The flu?”

“I guess,” Sarah said, rubbed her wrists where bruises were still visible. Little handmarks from Zizi and Hitch, thick ropes of bruises from the bindings.

Mina dragged Sarah’s beanbag chair across the room, carefully lowered herself into it, and then read until they were both nodding off.

“Nap?” Mina asked.

Sarah’s eyes flickered before she admitted, “I’ve been having horrible dreams.”

“What about?”

“I was all freaky, bouncing through the forest like a ping pong ball, unable to stop myself.”

“Weird.”

“It was terrifying. In my dream, I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Also creepy.”

“I know!” Sarah agreed, “You were there.”

“Was I kung fu-ing around the forest too?”

“You tackled me, and I bit you. And then you sang to me.”

“You bit me?”

“I can still taste your blood in my mouth.”

“That’s nasty.” Mina rolled out of the bean bag chair. “So hot chocolate then? To get that taste out of your mouth.”

Sarah smiled, but it faded immediately.

Mina leaned over, pressed a kiss to her sister’s forehead, and whispered, “It was just a dream Sarah. You wouldn’t bite me even when we were little. Kate was the biter.”

Sarah laughed as Mina turned music on, filling the room with gentle piano music. Maybe it would lighten the feeling of horror in the room. It couldn’t hurt.

When she came back with a large cup of cocoa, Sarah was sleeping, book on her chest.

“She isn’t herself today,” Mom said.

Mina leapt, spilling some cocoa onto her hand, and spun to see her mom watching them from the hall.

“Ouch,” she whispered and then licked the cocoa off her hand.

Mina left, cocoa in hand, and Mom followed.

“It makes me feel good to see you guys taking care of each other.”

Mina sat against her bed’s headboard, while Mom joined her on the side of the bed.

Sipping the cocoa, Mina said, “I’ve always been a fan of Sarah.”

“I know.” Mom reached out, squeezing Mina’s ankle and lingering until Mina wondered if Mom was going to, finally, reveal the big secret. Only when Dad joined them, almost relaxed, her hopes died.

You’ll figure it out,
she told herself.

“How’s Sarah,” he asked, voice gruff and tired.

“Sleeping,” Mina and her mom said together.

“How’s Mina,” he asked again, leaning over to kiss her forehead.

Mina paused, almost shocked to see him in her room like this. “I’m good I guess. Tired.”

“School going well?” He sat next to Mom, leaning into her and placing his chin on her shoulder.

“Well that iz just sweet,” Poppy said.

Mina nodded, wondering if there was a master plan. But Dad just covered Mom’s hand with his own, the one holding Mina’s foot.

“You kids worry me. Vee,” he turned almost whispering in her mom’s ear, but clearly intending his voice to carry. “I say once we get rid of the last of these moochers, we move to Paris.”

Mom squeezed Mina’s foot again. And said, “I’d prefer somewhere sunny.”

“The Canary Islands.” Dad grinned at Mina his face still against Mom’s neck.

“You should wait,” Mina teased, surprised at herself, “until Kate and Jase have Europe explored, then you can use their advice.”

“Brat,” Mom and Dad said together, voices mild.

“You’ve been taking care of yourself. Focusing on eating better,” Dad asked.

Mina nodded, uncertain of what to say. After all, it wasn’t real medical advice. But apparently Dad wasn’t looking for anything from her.

He just snuggled with Mom before asking, “Is the Vespa working ok for you?”

Mina nodded before adding, “I love it.”

“It’s a two-person. Maybe you can take me for a ride sometime.”

Mina nodded again.

“And me.” Mom said.

Dad turned to her, not moving his chin from her shoulder and kissed her on the cheek.

“Just flipping sweet,” Poppy commented from her perch along the bookshelves.

“Good night, baby,” Mom said, even though it was late afternoon. They let Mina curl into her bed for an early night without comment.

After the sound of their footsteps on the stairs faded, Mina and the sprites looked at each other and said, almost in unison. “Weird.”

* * *

Within three days, Sarah was back to herself again. Though those three days had Sarah brushing her teeth time and again after waking from her dreams. Mina shuddered every time she realized Sarah was brushing away the memory of Mina’s blood. Sarah’s skin, in that time, returned to its normal paleness, but there was a blush to it. Her eyes were bright, and she seemed to have shaken the effects of the spell.

Of course, they were applying Poppy’s grandmother’s potions daily.

“Are you sure she’ll be ok.” Mina asked.

“Grandmumzy is.” Poppy’s wings were unbound, and she couldn’t stop her circuits around the room, over the top of the bookshelves, twisting among the posts of the canopy bed, following the stairs to the turret, and then diving over the side to soar down and across the room only to do it again.

“Her grandmother is notorious for being an amazing potion maker. Witches and the fae come to her. If Florenza says her potion will stop any spells working on Sarah, then Sarah will be safe.” Zizi’s precise comment was just what Mina needed to hear. Though she’d probably need to hear it again before Grace was back. Mina had tried calling Grace’s number, but it went straight to voicemail as if turned off.

It was Friday night and though she and Max had made up; they hadn’t returned to hanging out, outside of school. Mostly, they just quietly walked around the school together held together more by the memory of their confessions than their returned friendship.

But every day was easier.

Mina curled up with her comforter minutes after dinner. Sure it was early, but she still felt like she was making up for those two days of no sleep. She slipped into a restless sleep within moments of pulling the covers over her face.

On the back of an owl, she soared with the sprites over the top of the tallest pine trees Mina had ever seen. The four friends, all the same size, were curled in on each other. They were waiting to get…somewhere. Mina knew it was a dream, but she felt such an intense need to arrive at the destination all the same.

Wherever they were going, it was urgent that she get there.

Eventually, the trees faded, and she looked over the side of the great wings to find a lake with the moon reflected in its water. And next to the lake, a shore of sand leading to a patch of fruit and nut trees, and then a small, log house in a clearing.

Her grandmother’s cabin.

Mina stood, leaping off the back of the owl, and floated to the ground—absolutely fearless. Her tiny self, smaller now than the sprites, scampered to the house, up the steps, and snuck into the house by slipping in under the door.

Once inside, tiny Mina struggled up the stairs, and skittered down the hallway.

At the end of the hall was a door and on the other side of the door was something she needed.

A shriek filled the air and Mina jerked. She gasped, sitting up in the bed, and a moan carried across the landing from Sarah’s room.

Mina was on her knees next to Sarah’s bed before the cloud of sleep had fully left her.

“Sarah?”

Her sister pushed her face into the pillows.

“I was biting you again,” she said, without lifting her head.

Mina touched the still healing bite with one hand while caressing Sarah’s hair with the other.

“I’m fine.” Mina pushed at Sarah until she moved over. Joining her sister under the covers, she began singing. The same La’s from the woods only a few nights ago. Notes that twisted up the register and down, she sang, waiting for her sister’s voice to intertwine with her own.

Minutes passed before Sarah sang, but once she’d begun, they comforted the other until the moon started to rise.

“I think she is fully asleep.” Zizi stretched, flitting into the air followed by the other two sprites.

Once back in their room, Mina said, “Grandmother is back at the beach house.”

“So, the cabin iz empty.” Poppy pushed her hair back and began braiding it into even braids while Zizi wound hers into a knot that matched the one Mina was making with her own mess of curls.

“Time for a midnight adventure then?” Zizi said as she pulled a jacket on, weaving her wings through the special openings and then tossing a jacket to Poppy.

“If we are going to do it,” Hitch flew to the top of the bookshelves, pulling on a jacket as he added, “we need to do it now. Your unclez are going up to take care of treez and stuff thiz weekend.”

“And she’s been spending more time at the cabin lately.” Mina pulled on her tall boots and laced them up her calves.

“Making this your first window for a while,” Zizi said, holding up her hand, so Hitch could toss her boots over.

“Give me five.” Hitch disappeared, not needing to explain that he was grabbing the keys to the cabin. Mina, thankfully, had parked outside.

“At least the moon is bright,” Poppy said, opening the patio doors, crossing it, and dropping over the side of the baluster.

Zizi and Mina followed until they reached the railing. Zizi was at face level, so Mina could see the flash of the sprite’s grin and the dare in her eyes, when she said, “I’ve got you.”

Mina stepped on the ledge, let the moonlight soak into her face and followed Poppy down, trusting Zizi without question.

Zizi had hold of Mina before gravity took her weight, and they drifted to the ground.

* * *

Silent and dark, as she knew it would be, her grandparents’ cabin pulled at her like an anchor in a storm. The cabin was next to a quiet lake, dark and hidden in the shadows of ancient trees. The near side was bordered by a beach that faded into thick grass and then rows of fruit trees. Everywhere else, pine trees loomed; their shadows were long, and tonight, the rustling of the branches felt sinister.

She dug in her bag for the keys, and as her fingers closed around the keys, she froze feeling the weight of…eyes. Immediately, she was terrified.

Someone, something followed her movement from the scooter to the cabin door. Mina felt her pulse in her throat. Her blood roared in her ears, and as she moved the thumping at her throat increased.

Thump, thump; thump, thump; thump, thump.

Mina’s hands shook in the darkness. Even as a part of her acknowledged that she was probably just spooked by the woods. Maybe there really was a predator in them, but no predator that wandered the Cascade Mountains would attack her. They just weren’t dangerous to humans.

“I do not hear the hum.” Zizi’s brightness was lost in the night.

Quick searching glances of the woods and the lake increased her fear to an almost funereal feeling. An encroaching mist slithered in from the shore, and it felt as though the shadows of the trees were reaching clawed fingers out.

“What?” Mina whispered, terrified of what might be listening.

“The electricity.” Hitch said from the hood of her coat. “It’z prob turned off.”

She fumbled as she unlocked the door, nearly losing the keys twice. Her breath matched the speed of Hitch’s wings. But, the door finally opened with a long creak. She rushed in, slammed the door after Zizi’s wings, and turned the lock before pressing her back to the door.

“Mina?” Zizi was too kind to laugh at Mina, but she could see Zizi’s confusion.

“We’ll get the lights.” Hitch said as he and Poppy disappeared into the back of the cabin.

“I will check the doors and windows.” Zizi touched Mina’s cheek and then Mina heard the rustle of curtains and shades.

Lights turned on, but the feeling of horror didn’t lessen.

Mina frantically checked the room. Her grandparents’ home was austere except for the ugly afghans Grandmother knitted. There was nowhere for someone to hide. Mina took a shaky breath. She could hear scratching at the window.

It’s the wind, she thought.

There was a howl.

Coyotes, she murmured, just coyotes.

The sound faded. Part of her wanted to flee, part of her wanted to hide in a closet and wait for day. But she wasn’t here for herself. At least not only herself.

She was here for Sarah, too.

Her grandparents had never talked about their family. No stories of siblings; no tales that begin, “in my day.”

Not ever.

Yet, she and Zizi had long ago found the secret drawer at the bottom of the cedar chest in her grandparents’ room. Just press in on the center of a small bit of scrollwork and a drawer popped out. Mina had once found pictures, old family bibles, tattered journals. She’d wondered why they felt the need to hide those things.

Now, Mina thought, she might know.

Back then she put everything back. And hopefully, in the intervening years, nothing had been moved. Mina pulled in a slow breath and slowly turned the handle to her grandparents’ bedroom.

The bed her grandfather crafted was neatly made. The curtains were closed. There was no dust. Each side of the bed had a small nightstand. Her grandmother’s side of the bed had a lamp and a book. Her grandfather’s had a picture of his flock of kids from when they were small.

Mina knelt in front of the chest. She ran her fingers over the scroll work, pressing in, until the drawer, a few inches deep, popped out.

“Grandpapa,” she said, and her voice echoed in the empty house. “Grandmother, you shouldn’t have left me to find this out alone. So, I’m not sorry.”

Even still guilt prodded at her, knowing she was stealing their secrets. At least until she remembered Sarah’s vein ridden face and the feel of Sarah’s jagged teeth in her neck.