The Blue Woods (15 page)

Can we see the site from here?
I asked.

No,
the Snow Leopard said.
I just think that everyone should see this view at least once in their lifetime.

Yes,
I said.
I agree.
We stood for another long moment before the Snow Leopard started walking again. This time we didn't continue up, but rounded a ridge in the mountain's face. The ground here was thick with hard-packed snow. I wondered how far we were from Base Camp, and whether I could legitimately claim I'd climbed Everest.

In Tibet, we call this mountain Chomolungma. Goddess
Mother of the World,
the Snow Leopard said.
The womb from which all life flows.

That was a little gross, but okay.

You know, of course, the magic contained here, yes?
the Snow Leopard said.

It's where the power to separate your soul from your body comes from.

Yes. You're drawing on that power right now, to be here and there at the same time.

But I'm not draining the site or anything, right?

No, you're not. There's only one way to drain the site, and the Malandanti have been doing it for years.
We came over a small crest, the ground jagged beneath our feet. The Snow Leopard stopped.
We are here.

I gazed down. Just below us, built into the mountainside, was an ornate temple. Its tiered roof shone gold in the bright sunshine. Bright white walls made a square just at the edge of a cliff. Prayer flags crisscrossed the inner courtyard, their multicolored triangles fluttering in the wind. And I could hear the faint jangling of bells, like I'd heard on the yaks at the foot of the mountain.

That's the site? But . . . where's the magic?

Look closer.

I squinted. Now I could see a cluster of yaks in the courtyard, their black bodies decorated with colorful yokes, the bells hanging from furry balls on their horns.
The yaks? They're the magic?

The magic is contained in their blood.
The Snow Leopard padded a little way up the ridge. I followed.
If the
Benandanti
controlled this site, those Yaks would be untouched. But the Malandanti have been slaughtering them for centuries, spilling their blood into basins to make their Clan here stronger.
He hunkered down, his belly resting on the ground.
These Yaks are many times descended from the original herd, who were murdered by the Malandanti. The magic has been diluted through breeding, and so the Malandanti must kill more of them, more frequently, to get what they want.

I watched the animals mill about the courtyard, totally unaware of the horrible fate that awaited them. They weren't exactly pretty, but there was something sort of beautiful in their functionality, in the slow way their bodies shifted amongst each other. After a few minutes, I turned to the Snow Leopard.
Have you noticed anything unusual lately? Because we have reason to believe that the Guild had a failsafe in place in case we took them down like we did, and that whatever it is, it's happening here.

Yes, we have. Watch.

I settled next to him. It felt like forever that I waited for something to happen, then someone emerged from the Temple. He wore the long red caftan of a Buddhist monk, with a thick swath of orange fabric draped from shoulder to hip.
That's no monk,
the Snow Leopard said, his voice heavy with pain and disgust.

The figure was too far away for me to see clearly. I stood to move closer, but the Snow Leopard stopped me.
Any nearer and he'll see you,
he warned.

I'll risk it.

I picked my way across the rocky snow, keeping low. Several feet down the ridge, I stopped and straightened. The faux-monk had led one of the yaks to the edge of the courtyard. The rest of the herd shuffled restlessly, sensing something bad was about to happen. I held my breath, my shadow-heart beating fast. Faux-monk pulled a machete from beneath his robes. In one swift movement, he slit the Yak's throat and let the blood pour into the trough below.

The rest of the Yaks—the lucky ones—brayed and stomped their feet, those incessant little bells jingle-jangling their outrage. It was enough to make me a vegetarian for life. Wait until Barb heard about this.

When the poor Yak had been drained, Faux-monk let go of its yoke. The animal fell to the ground. The other Yaks backed away, their dead comrade a warning that they would be next.

Faux-monk walked around the trough of blood, his hands hovering over its surface. When he got to the side facing me, he looked up. I edged a few feet closer—near enough that I could finally see that he wore glasses. He froze, and in that instant I knew he'd seen me too. He could wear monk's robes all he wanted, but I knew who he was no matter what disguise he put on.

The Rabbit.

The Dark before the Dawn

Alessia

There was something comforting about walking up Main Street with Jenny and going to school, as though life was completely normal. I leaned into her. “Did you see my mom and Mr. Salter this morning?”

Jenny grimaced. “I was hoping you didn't.” She tightened her arm around mine. “What do you think about all that?”

I didn't want to think about it, at all, ever. “Why is he hanging around your house now, too? He has nothing to do with the Benandanti.” But that wasn't what was bugging me and I knew it. I couldn't get the image of Lidia and Ed, hip to hip and laughing over the sink, out of my head. “My dad
just
died,” I whispered. “It's like she's forgotten.”

“Oh, Alessia.” Jenny stopped and hugged me close. I breathed in her almond-scented shampoo. “She hasn't forgotten. No one could ever forget your dad, least of all your mom.”

“Then why—?”

Jenny pulled away and held her hands up. “Look, I'm just going to tell you what I see, as a total outsider who loves you
and
your mom. Can you handle that?”

I sighed. “Yeah, I can handle it.”

“Your dad died a year ago. And I know that seems like a minute ago, but a lot has happened in the past year.” Jenny looked off toward the woods. “You got Called, and you and your mom grew apart. She—”

“That's her fault,” I cut in. “If she'd told me she knew, there wouldn't be this rift.”

“I know, and I totally agree with you,” Jenny said, putting her hand on my wrist. “She should've said something. But for whatever reason, she didn't, and she probably felt really alone, and Ed was there and he was grieving too, and they bonded. It makes
total
sense.” She hunched one shoulder. “For what it's worth, my mother called this like six months ago.”

I stared at the ground. “It just feels like she's leaving me more alone than ever.”

Jenny snorted. “Isn't that what you've wanted forever? For your mom to stop being so overprotective?”

I put my gloved fingers to my temples. Jenny was right; I'd been complaining about Lidia not leaving me alone for years, and now that she finally was, I wanted her meddling back. “Guess you never know how much you need something until it's gone,” I said, trying to make my voice sound light even though my insides were heavy.

“Guess not.” Jenny linked her arm through mine again, and we continued to school. “Besides, Lidia deserves to be happy. Doesn't she?”

Yeah, she did. But it didn't seem fair that she got to be happy when I was so miserable.

The school loomed into view. “You think he'll be there?” Jenny asked me in a low voice.

If there was one thing that could distract me from Lidia's love life, it was Jonah. I glanced at Jenny and shrugged one shoulder. “He said he was working on it, but I think he'd have to do a pretty fancy song and dance to get the Malandanti's permission to come to school,” I said. But still my heart hoped. Maybe he'd proved himself on last night's patrol. Maybe Pratt had believed that he'd injured me, and coming to school would be his reward for that. I almost laughed. It was insane that the Malandanti had put Jonah into a position where
school
was a reward.

A handful of kids dotted the snowy lawn in their colorful coats, but most were inside with the overheated radiators. Jenny and I dashed up the front steps. As we made our way across the foyer toward the main office, one of the auditorium doors squeaked open. And, unbelievably, there he was. He'd done it. He'd played the Malandanti's mind games and won. He beckoned to me and closed the door before anyone else could see him.

I turned to Jenny. “Cover for me in the office, okay?”

“Okay, but you'd better be in second-period French.” She squeezed my arm. “You
and
Jonah.”

“We will,” I promised and dashed across to the auditorium before anyone stopped me. The door whooshed closed behind me, shutting out the hubbub of the hallway.

Jonah was half-hidden in the shadows in one of the alcoves against the wall. I ran to him, my footsteps muffled on the well-worn carpet. I couldn't reach him fast enough—it seemed like so many minutes ticked by until he was three feet, two feet, one foot away from me . . . and then at last my arms were around him.

In the last several days, the only times I'd seen him were when I was a Falcon and he was a Panther, two animals that were not exactly made to embrace each other. Feeling the human curves of him was like drinking water in a desert. He pulled me tight against him, one hand on the small of my back, the other buried deep in my hair, and turned us so that I was up against the wall. His lips crashed against mine and took my breath away. I faded into him, forgetting everything outside the sanctuary of his arms: Lidia and Mr. Salter, Bree and Cal, Heath and Nerina, the Benandanti and the Malandanti.

The first-period warning bell buzzed over the loudspeaker, causing a cruel jolt. We shuddered apart, our breath short and ragged. I leaned my forehead against his shoulder. “You're okay,” I murmured, more to reassure myself. “They let you out.”

Jonah stroked my spine. “I got them to move me to Pratt's house here in town, and I convinced them that my absence from school would raise suspicions,” he said. “But there's a Clan member here at the school who's keeping an eye on me.”

“Who is it?”

He shook his head. “I wish I knew. The only one whose identity I know is Pratt.” He cradled my face in his hands, his gaze burrowing deep into mine. “God, it's good to see you. Like, for real see you.”

“You too,” I whispered.

“You're very pretty as a Falcon, but I can't kiss you like that.” He drew my mouth to his, the kiss this time soft as a rosebud. “We can't be seen together,” he said, his words tumbling onto my tongue and down my throat. “If they know I care about you, they'll know they can use you against me.”

I pressed the back of his head with my hand, pressed his lips, his breath, his being harder into me so that I wouldn't have to deal with reality, just for a moment longer. The second bell sounded, and with a groan we pulled away from each other, the heat of unfulfilled promises thick between us. “I should go,” he said. “If I'm not in class . . .”

“Go.” I put my hand on his chest and gave a little push. Jonah pushed back and leaned in for a last kiss.

“Figure out some way for us to meet. Tonight. Not on patrol,” he said, a little breathless. “The town hall basement?”

“No, it's too well known. I'll think of something better.” I bit my bottom lip, which still tingled from Jonah's love. Jenny would know a good place. She'd been sneaking out to meet boys since middle school. Jonah took my hand and backed away, up the aisle toward the auditorium door. He held my hand until both our arms stretched out long. His fingers grazed my palm, my knuckles, my fingertips . . . and then he was gone.

“What about just meeting back at your house?” Jenny suggested as we walked to second-period French. “It's empty now.”

“It's also being watched,” I said, keeping my voice low as kids jostled past us. “Don't you have some super-secret make-out spot or something?”

Jenny grimaced. “Unfortunately, all my super-secret spots are not so secret anymore.” She stopped and snapped her fingers. “Hang on—why don't you ask Cal? I bet he knows someplace good in Willow Heights that's way out of the way.”

“I'm not asking
Cal
advice about make-out spots.
I'm
the one who's supposed to be the Guide,” I said. “Besides, he probably doesn't know any. He's probably been too busy stalking the Benandanti to ever have a girlfriend.” But Jenny was already pulling her phone out and sending a text, presumably to Cal. I gritted my teeth. “Why do you even have his number?”

“Dad thought it would be a good idea, in case he needed to contact one of us and you guys were transformed or something.”