Carrie Jones - Entice

It is still snowing outside when we leave. It is the kind of snow that seems like it will never stop, maybe because it hasn’t for weeks. It isn’t too heavy, but it’s built up so that there are snow piles where sidewalks should be on Main and High Streets. City public works crews don’t seem to ever have a break. They keep hauling it off the streets and parking lots. They dump a lot in the parking lot by the harbor because it’s winter and no boaters are out. The town dock is basically a tiny park with a gazebo and a couple of floating docks that are currently hauled up on the parking lot and covered with three huge mountains of snow.

We’re all carpooling there. It took a lot of protesting for my mom and Betty to even allow me to come, but I’d gone all the way to New York with Astley, so they could hardly make like a trip across town would be too taxing. I know they are trying to protect me because they love me, but seriously? All the fussing is a little too much, and I’ve compromised a lot by letting Mrs. Nix go to Valhalla instead of me.

Betty, my mom, Mrs. Nix, and I drive to the harbor in my mom’s rental car. Betty and Mrs. Nix sit in the backseat, with Betty giving her pointers nonstop.

“Do not trust anyone,” she tells her. “Not even the gods.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Nix says.

“And if you get in a jam, use the lunge-when you rear up you expose your belly to attack.”

“Of course.”

I turn around and look at them. They are so cute together. “We’re here. Are you okay to do this? I can still go.”

Mrs. Nix smiles at me and reaches forward to touch the side of my face. “It’s my turn to be the hero, Zara. I like it. Plus, I get to reunite true lovers. It’s romantic.”

Her eyes are soft and sweet but strong too. She drops her hand from my face, and my voice chokes up as I say, “Thank you.”

Astley pulls up.

“That car does not fit in here,” Betty snarks as she gets out.

This is true. Astley, Amelie, and a tied-up BiForst exit Astley’s too-snazzy car as Mrs. Nix exits ours.

I grab the door handle, but my mom stops me. “It’s too cold out for you.”

I glare at her. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

But she’s not. She wants me to stay in the car, just stay here and watch. Everyone else agrees.

“Outvoted,” Betty announces, then frowns woefully. “But you have front-row seats.”

That does not make it better, but I don’t want to make a big scene. I motion for Mrs. Nix to come to the window. She leans in. She smells like cinnamon rolls, like a stereotypical grandmother from the old days, warm and good, full of flour and sugar and love.

“I can’t thank you enough,” I whisper at her.

A snowflake sticks to her hair. “I am honored to do it.”

She starts to move away, but I reach out and grab the fabric of her light blue parka. “Tell him I love him, okay? Tell him… I wanted to be the one to save him.”

“Zara.” She pauses, straightens up. “Nick already knows that, honey. Now, no worries. I’ll bring him back soon. You take good care of your old grandma while I’m gone. She’s not as tough as she pretends to be and she worries some about you. Deal?”

“Deal.”

From my spot in the rental car, which smells of plastic and disinfectant, I watch them walk past the twenty abandoned parking spots in the lot, take a hard right by the shack that passes for a harbormaster’s office, and onto the pier, which is part metal and part wood. They are a ragtag group of strange. They stand on the end of the dock. Ice chunks fill the water, looking like tiny dirty icebergs. Mrs. Nix looks like a blue marshmallow in her parka. My mom, Cassidy, and Issie group together like they are searching for strength from one another. Astley callously pushes BiForst in front of the rest. They wear fabric and leather and wool. They wear winter hats and gloves. Some stride (Betty), some saunter (Cassidy), and some seem to waddle (Mrs. Nix), but they are all here for one thing: to get Nick back, and I love them so much for it. I love them so much that it’s almost okay that they are making me wait in the car.

What a liar I am.

It is not okay at all. They could get hurt. They could need backup. Something could go wrong.

The air starts to shimmer around them. Gasping, I lean forward onto the dashboard to get a better look. A bridge is forming over the river. It’s silver and shiny and- It’s not a rainbow. Everything I’ve read has said it would be a rainbow. Maybe “rainbow” is a word that gets lost in translation? I don’t know. I want to hope that, but it doesn’t feel right. Mrs. Nix steps on it and starts walking. The bridge arches over the river. The snow obscures the end. Mrs. Nix waddles up it, higher and higher.

Everything inside me shudders, and I freeze up. It’s not from the cold. It’s not from the wound. It’s because that BiForst guy is giving off a smell that I catch even from the car. It’s an arrogant smell. It’s like fire or death or- It’s what that Frank pixie smelled like when he killed Nick.

I shove open the car door, ignore the pain, and start to run, but I get only a few steps before the bridge just explodes.

Time stops.

The explosion is so loud it’s like it sucks the sound out of everything.

A second passes.

Another.

The smell of burning fur and sulfur rush into the air. Shards of crystals rain through the sky. Someone screams. Black smoke billows across everything, obscures everything.

“Mrs. Nix!” I yell. “Mrs. Nix!”

But I know, even as I yell it, that it’s too late.

The silence is huge and horrifying.

It should have been me.

For a moment nobody moves. Then it’s all slow motion. Cassidy is screaming. It’s inhumanly high and keening, and the air seems to echo with it. My mom moves to stand in front of her. Her hands go to Cassidy’s arms. Issie doesn’t move. She is shocked still. Devyn pulls her into a hug, protecting her head from falling debris. Astley turns to look at me. His eyes meet my eyes, even though I am still rushing toward them and there is a big distance. He half jumps, half flies to me.

“Are you okay?” he asks. His eyes do a quick once-over, checking for damage.

“Uh-huh. Are you?” I ask this but I can tell that he’s got a singed spot on his forehead, a burn mark on his coat, and a cut on his ear. I move him around so I can better inspect.

“I am uninjured,” he says. His voice softens with worry.

I blow that lie right off and I raise myself up on tiptoes. There’s a shard of a red crystal substance sticking out behind his ear. It’s not too big. “Hold still.”

Before he can say anything, I wrap my hand around it. It burns because it’s so hot. I yank it out anyway, in one quick movement, and drop it on the snowy pavement. Then I press my hand against the wound as the blood spurts.

“She’s gone, isn’t she?” I whisper.

He nods. “Her essence… I cannot… She is gone.”

A big sob threatens to swallow me up, but I push it down and back. There are things to do. Mrs. Nix would want me to take care of people. Still, my heart pulses slow with loss, feeble and aching. We have lost so many.

What I’ve learned lately is that people deal with death in all sorts of different ways. Some of us fight against it, doing everything we can to make it not true. Some of us lose ourselves to grief. Some of us lose ourselves to anger.

A roar fills the air, shaking through the snowflakes, splintering away from mere sound and into something solid and fierce. Astley grabs my arm, propels me behind him. I push around to see. Betty has turned. Her tiger self stands near my mother and the others. Devyn has moved slightly in front of everyone else, protecting them, I guess, but why would he have to protect anyone from Betty? Amelie is slowly walking backward, like she’s afraid she’s about to be eaten, but the tiger’s focus isn’t on them. Then I understand. Even from over here, Betty’s anger and desire to kill form one solid, twisted force.