Carrie Jones - Entice

“Mom!” I object. She just closes her eyes again and moans.

Astley backs away. He doesn’t say anything to her. Instead he asks Betty, who is still stitching me up, “Can I help in any way?”

She shakes her head. “You might want to hold her hand. This hurts her.”

“I’m okay.” I grunt-it does hurt me. The words don’t matter anyway; neither Astley nor my grandmother believes them. Astley grabs my hand. Warmth spreads up my arms from his fingers. I can feel the power of him in my skin, warming it, calming it. We are bonded and this has to be one of the many effects, but it still makes me a tiny bit uneasy because it’s so terribly personal. Still, everything we’ve been sharing is personal. I push my qualms aside and turn up the corners of my mouth, which is as much as I can make of a smile right now.

Betty raises an eyebrow. “So, why don’t you tell us why the two of you ran away? Again.”

I do.

T ensions in the town of Bedford increase as there is still no news on the latest missing boy and funeral preparations continue for the several dead teens from nearby Sumner High School. “I just want it to stop,” one mother said. “I just want us all to be safe again.” - T HE B EDFORD A MERICAN

“More young people have been reported missing in the greater Bedford area,” the television announcer blathers on, “which brings the total up to twenty-two. This unprecedented number has some experts talking about runaway plots since most of those missing are young men. However, the Federal Bureau of Investigation has sent in agents to investigate the possibilities of a serial killer or an international child prostitution ring.”

The screen switches to a guy who is obviously an FBI agent. He’s wearing sunglasses and has short cropped hair. The real tip-off, however, are the yellow letters announcing FBI on his dark blue jacket.

“Currently, we cannot divulge any of the possibilities for the cause of the disappearances,” he says in a deep take-no-prisoners voice. “We do, however, have leads, and we are investigating those leads.”

The news anchor returns. “Complicating matters is that some residents, frightened by events, are simply leaving town on extended vacations, which results in confusion over whether some people are truly missing or just not here.”

Mrs. Nix is over and Astley is still here, and we’re all crowded into the living room. Betty doesn’t ask anyone’s permission; she just pushes a button on the remote and the TV clicks off. I pause in the act of bringing my soup spoon to my mouth. My mom made it despite her minor concussion. She always likes to make soup when I’m sick, and she counts a gunshot wound as being sick. Plus, I think she liked being busy so she wouldn’t have to look at me.

“Why did you shut it off?” I ask, gesturing to the TV.

“It’s not telling us anything we don’t already know,” Betty says. She puts her hands right above her knees and pushes herself up to a standing position. My mother starts to stand too, but Betty barks at her. “You stay put. I’m just getting some tea.”

Betty strides off to the kitchen muttering about being stuck in a house with a gunshot victim, a fainter, and a pixie.

“I’ll go help,” says Mrs. Nix, smiling. She pets my shoulder. “I’ll see if I can calm her down a little bit. You know how she gets.”

As Mrs. Nix heads to the kitchen, Astley asks, “How does she get?”

“Cranky,” I explain.

Astley’s sitting in the red chair, and my mother and I are on the couch. She’s clutching one of Issie’s steak knives because she thinks he’s going to attack any second, despite the fact that only a couple hours ago he took care of her after she’d passed out. My mother has trust issues when it comes to pixie kings, and I can’t blame her, really.

“Mom…” I try to use her name as a warning, and I think it works, because she leans her head back against the couch, tilts her chin up, and closes her eyes.

Since getting back I’ve learned that Devyn and Cassidy finished building the cell in the basement for BiForst.

Right now, Issie, Cassidy, and Devyn are off at school, which I am missing thanks to the gunshot thing. Astley and I have gone through the book and even e-mailed a few details to them about what we’ve learned. Issie responded with a ton of exclamation points and squees. Devyn agreed with our take on things. Now we’re just waiting for them to come back from school so we can get on with it.

Betty and Mrs. Nix come back with tea for everyone, even Astley, which seems like a giant step forward.

“Be careful, Zara,” Betty says as she puts my mug on the coffee table. “It’s hot.”

I shoot Astley a look. They’re treating me like a baby. I swallow my temper.

“So, we’ve been talking…,” Betty begins. She fixes me with her alpha-dog stare. I swallow but stare back. Something in my stomach drops. “You aren’t well enough to go, Zara.”

My heart falls out along with my stomach. I start to protest and tell her how I am just a bit achy and that I am totally, perfectly fine to go, which I am, when she silences me with a finger. “Do not argue. We all agree. You have no chance.”

“But-”

“No buts, young lady.” My mom crosses her arms over her chest. “We’ll tie you up if we have to, but you can’t do it.”

“We can’t lose you too,” Betty explains.

“You don’t all agree. Astley doesn’t agree,” I respond. Then I close my eyes for a moment, to try to push the pain and despair down.

When I open my eyes, he’s moved right in front of me. He’s squatting on the floor. His voice is soft and serious. His hands touch the sides of my shins. “I do agree.”

The clock ticks on the wall. The refrigerator hums in the other room. All these sounds that show me life is going on, is real, that they are actually saying this to me-even Astley.

“I changed… I changed to do this. If I don’t get Nick, that means I’ve changed for nothing.” My voice sounds hysterical. I clamp my mouth shut. Tears are popping into my eyes.

“I know, sweetie.” Betty pats my arm.

“No, that is incorrect,” Astley disagrees. “It is not for nothing. Your change makes me stronger. It brings us stability. When you live with me as queen, we will-”

“Absolutely not,” Mom interrupts.

Astley’s gaze goes from one to the other of us as he stands up. “That is not the issue at this time. What is important is getting to Valhalla. Who shall go?”

Mrs. Nix puts down her mug. It rests on her big knee. “I will.”

“I thought we’d decided that I would,” Betty says.

“I am not as needed. You have a family, Betty, medical skills that I just don’t have. But I am just as good a warrior as you are and you know it.”

Betty nods. “True.”

“But you are needed,” I interrupt, staring at Mrs. Nix’s sweet round face. “And you do have a family. Everyone at school is your family. We’re your family.”

She smiles softly at me, this woman who is a bear, and she says, “You are so kind, Zara. Let me do this for you. Let me be the hero this time.”

I don’t answer. I try to solid up my argument, but I don’t know how.

“She has a better chance at success,” Betty adds. “If you do it, you’re being selfish, Zara. You are lowering the odds of us actually rescuing Nick. Is that what you want?”

I swallow hard. “No.”

“Didn’t think so,” she retorts. “I wonder why only one can go at a time? Where do these ancient rules even come from?”