The Glass Casket (26 page)

He was in the middle of the woods, near her tree, when he heard the whistle. It seemed to come from above, so he looked up. Ribbons of moonlight slipped between the trees, and he delighted in the way the snow seemed to dance through the beams. And then he felt her hands slide over his eyes from behind.

He always knew it was her because of the heat and because
of her scent, that rich earthy scent she’d had since coming to him that first night. Sometimes he wondered if it had something to do with the way her feet and shins never seemed to come clean. Even when she washed, they always seemed to remain dirty.

“Guess who?” she purred into his ear, and he smiled wide, his heart nearly bursting with joy. She spun him around and there her face was, more radiant, more beautiful than ever. And then he was somewhere else—inside her tree hollow, warm and drunk on her beauty. With each passing day, she seemed to grow more exquisite. She smiled at him, and instantly, his body was on fire. He was suddenly awake, out of his daze, everything crisp and clear like it never was back home. He kissed her, and she pressed herself against him.

“I’ve missed you,” she said.

“It hasn’t been all that long.”

“It’s too much for me,” she said, smiling up at him with those limpid eyes. “I don’t know what to do with myself when you’re gone.”

“Then come with me,” he whispered, burying his face in her neck, her hair.

“You know I can’t do that, Tom. This is my home now. But maybe, somehow it could be yours too.”

He held her face in his hands, and in that instant there was nothing more precious to him in the world. And then she paused and held a finger to her lips. “Quiet,” she whispered, pointing to the forest above them. “Someone’s up above.”

He moved to ask what she meant, but Fiona held her hand to his mouth. And then he heard it as well—the beast, Fiona’s beast—that thing he could never completely see, and yet which always seemed to be nearby. Sometimes it looked like the snow through the trees, sometimes like jagged bones, and sometimes it looked like death itself.

“It’s safe now,” she said, removing her hand from his mouth and kissing him. “The girl is gone. Come on.” She pulled him to his feet. “There’s something I want to show you, but first you must close your eyes.”

And then they were up in the woods again, and though his eyes were closed, he knew they were moving through the trees, through the night. After they had walked for a while, Fiona told him he could open his eyes. He stood a moment staring ahead of him before he understood where he was. The air seemed to swirl around him, so cold and yet always bearable in her presence. In front of him stretched the icy expanse of Seelie Lake, laid out below Cairn Hill and Lover’s Leap like white silk. It looked magical, somehow more real than nature had ever seemed to him before. It was as if the lake from his childhood, that lovely creature so filled with possibilities, had returned to him more beautiful and mysterious than ever.

He started laughing, though he wasn’t sure why.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” she asked, smiling like a child. “I had no idea it was here. And wait, here’s the best part. You have to see this.”

And with that, she let go of his hands and ran out onto the ice, and her bare feet sliding across it, she twirled until
she fell down. Panic rose in Tom’s heart, and he reached out to her.

“Don’t!” he yelled. “The ice might give.”

Fiona laughed and pointed to the ice below. “Look at them, Tom. Just look at them!”

And then he saw—swarming beneath the lake’s frozen surface, spiny teeth and monstrous eyes, circling, hungry hands clawing at the ice from below. The water nixies, real as the night, thirsty for blood. But they couldn’t be real. They just couldn’t.

“Fiona,” he said, trying to remain calm. “Please come away. I think you might be in danger.”

“Because of them?” she laughed, tapping the ice to provoke the terrible nixies. “They’re so hungry, aren’t they? But the ice won’t break, and it’s fun to tease them.”

Tom took another step toward her. “Please, Fiona. Come away from there. Those things, they’re monsters.”

She smiled, a shy kind of smile. “And what do you think I am, Tom?”

He closed his eyes, once again convinced this all had to be part of a terrible dream, and then she was laughing.

“My pet fears them too,” she laughed. “But then, water is not his domain. See him over there between the trees? He doesn’t dare come out on the ice.”

Tom turned to look where she pointed, but he saw there only darkness and slivers of snow.

“Come on, Tom, please try it. It’s magical, isn’t it?” she crooned.

Staring at her, so beautiful, he felt a fire rise in him, and he realized he couldn’t disobey her if he tried. He walked out to meet her, the nixies surging toward him as he did. He tried to ignore them there below the ice, to focus on Fiona. Sliding across the silvery whiteness, she twirled and danced into his arms. He kissed her.

“You have to try it,” she bubbled. “Take off your boots.”

“I can’t take off my boots. I’ll freeze.”

“Come on,” she teased. “Don’t be afraid. You’re with me now.”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling down at her face, which at that moment was as lovely as a summer rose. “A lot of good that will do me when I’ve lost a toe.”

“Don’t be like that,” she said, and crouching down, she began to untie his laces.

“What are you doing?” he protested, but he didn’t try to pull himself away.

In a moment, she had his boots off, and then his woolen socks, and his naked feet were planted flush against the frozen lake, the cold sinking into every crevice, and yet there was no pain. There was only delight at the extremity of the sensation.

Taking his hands, she pulled him across the ice, and together they began to spin.

“It doesn’t hurt,” he said, surprised.

“Of course it doesn’t,” she said. “I’ll never let anything hurt you.”

And he knew that no matter what happened, no matter
what the truth of the situation might be, that a part of him would always be out there spinning on the ice with her. The moment itself seemed to fill his veins, and he knew that she would be inside him. Always and forever. After feeling like this, there was no going back.

R
OWAN DID NOT
sleep that night, and at first light, she found herself at the inn, asking to speak with Jude. Elsbet was still in her dressing gown, and it was clear that the sight of Rowan unsettled her.

“I’ll go get him, dear. The boys are sleeping for sure,” she said, the lie evident in her eyes, and Rowan wondered where the woman thought Tom could be spending his nights.

A few minutes later, Jude appeared on the stairs.

“Hi,” he said, his eyes wide. “I’m glad to see you’re still in one piece.”

She moved close to him, and without meaning to, she found that she’d taken his hands in hers.

“I saw it, Jude. I saw the beast.”

His mouth opened, but it was clear he had no idea what to say.

“It was so close I could have reached out and touched it,” she recalled. “It was enormous—I’d say three men tall, and awful. Just awful, Jude. I’ve never seen anything like it, even in nightmares. And the way it moved—it tore through a huge swath of forest, and yet it didn’t seem to break any branches or destroy any foliage. It’s like it was there but not quite of this realm.”

Jude ran a hand through his hair, concern creasing his features, and then he seemed to decide something. “Come with me,” he said, and without thinking twice, Rowan followed him up the stairs to his room. Once he’d closed the door behind him, he sat on his bed and stared at her intently. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

She took a seat at the end of his bed, and he shifted to face her, and suddenly she realized she was nervous to be so near him. Not her normal anxiety stemming from anger and frustration—it was something else. When she looked at him, he seemed somehow different—this strange, hard boy now curiously gentle—and she began to wonder about him, about who he really was.

“You must understand,” he said quietly. “I’m telling you this in absolute confidence. Whatever differences there exist between us, you must put them aside for the moment. I need to know that I can trust you.”

“You can trust me,” she said solemnly.

“I also need you to trust me,” he said, meeting her gaze.

“What do you mean?” She cocked her head.

His eyes were wide, insistent. “I know your father doesn’t believe in forest things and witch powers, but I do. I’ve seen proof of such things myself.”

“You have?” Rowan asked, moved by his seriousness.

“I have,” he said, and his eyes lingering on hers, Rowan noticed they burned with a strange intensity. “These woods are my woods. I’ve spent a lifetime in them, and I’ve seen things that would amaze you. But you needn’t just take my word for it. After what you saw last night, surely you must doubt your father’s skepticism. I know you were brought up not to believe in any of this, but I’m asking you please, for just a moment, to put your prejudices aside and to consider the possibility that you and your father might be wrong.”

Looking at Jude, she couldn’t help but trust him. In truth, her heart had always strained against her father’s beliefs. Deep down, she’d always sensed the magic in the woods, and she’d shunned the witches not for their deceptions but for their powers—powers she feared they truly did possess. She’d fought her instincts out of deference to her father, but of late, her father had become a stranger to her, and as much as it pained her to do so, she had to admit to herself that at this point she trusted Jude more than she trusted her father.

“I believe you,” she said finally. “How can I not? After what I’ve seen, how could I deny that there are things in this world beyond my comprehension? But the witches, Jude, they frighten me. I’ve always avoided Mama Lune, and then the other day, she accosted me in the village. After a
lifetime of ignoring me, she walked up to me as if we were old friends. She wanted to tell me again about her visitor—about Mama Tetri. She said … she said that Mama Tetri knew my mother and my uncle—that they’d grown up together.”

“Really?” he marveled. “And you didn’t know that?”

Rowan shook her head, and suddenly she thought she might cry. “It was the first I’ve heard of it. She told me that Mama Tetri came to Nag’s End to say sooth when my mother was pregnant with me. I know that my father would never allow such a thing, and yet … when she spoke the words, I believed her. I feel like I no longer understand the world. What’s happening, Jude? Do you understand what’s happening?”

Jude sighed. “I can’t say that I understand it, but I can tell you what I know.” He paused to scratch his head. “Rowan, do you know what a Greywitch is?”

She raised her eyebrows. “I know what they were. They’re all dead now, aren’t they?”

He nodded, seemingly collecting his thoughts. “Well, they’re supposed to be. Everyone thinks they are, but Mama Lune told me that she saw something that convinced her otherwise.”

“What did she see?” Rowan asked, shocked.

“She said she saw Grey magic,” he said.

“She
saw
magic? What does that even mean?”

“That’s what I wanted to know,” Jude said, smiling. “Mama Lune said that everyone can see magic, but that normal people like us aren’t used to looking for it. She said
that if you look closely, you can see its aftereffects. She explained it’s like seeing smoke from a dying fire.”

“And you believe her?” Rowan asked, leaning toward him.

“I do,” he said.

“Then I do too,” she said, and reaching out to him, she rested her hand on his arm. Her touch seemed to startle him, unsettle him even, and so she withdrew it as quickly as she’d placed it. “But what does it mean? If there is a Greywitch in Nag’s End, what does it mean?”

Jude pulled his leg up to rest a shin on his knee. “If there is a Greywitch among us, it would explain a lot, but she said that just because she’d seen Grey magic here, doesn’t mean that the witch is here. It could have been a spell performed a great distance away that is nonetheless affecting us.”

Rowan’s mind began working furiously. Standing, she began to pace. “If there was a Greywitch among us, would we be able to tell?”

Jude frowned. “I don’t know. They are wicked souls, Rowan. Mama Lune says that if it is a Greywitch, that she wouldn’t risk coming into the village openly and being discovered, but really so little is known about their ways. They haven’t been active in any number for hundreds of years.”

Rowan walked with careful steps, trying to make sense of it all. “So this creature, then—this beast I saw last night—do you think it is the work of a Greywitch? I was of the mind that there were two separate forces at work, but after seeing what I saw last night, I just don’t know. I mean, that monster must be the thing responsible for the deaths, right?”

“I would think so,” Jude said, concentrating hard. “But if it wasn’t born of the Goddess—and let’s face it, Ro, the thing you saw last night was not—then it couldn’t very well cross the village boundary. It would be confined to the forest.”