Janni Simner - Faerie Winter

I put my hat and gloves in my pockets and joined them. “Go where?” Matthew and I drew each other into a quick hug. He smelled of smoke, too.

“To Caleb and Karin’s town,” he said as we drew apart. “Ethan—it’s bad.”

Kate drew a jar from a cabinet. Ground valerian root—it was a sedative, used when pain became too much to bear. “Bad enough I was debating between this and something rather more deadly,” she said.

“If Caleb can heal him, it won’t come to that,” Matthew told her. As far as I could tell, Caleb’s healing magic was as powerful as anything from Before.

I tried to picture Caleb controlling Mom’s thoughts. He’d risked so much for her—if not for my vision, I might not have believed it, even now, though I knew he was as capable as anyone of pushing too far.

Matthew and I followed Kate to the fireplace, where she sprinkled the valerian root into the pot. I wrinkled my nose as its sweaty-sock smell filled the air. Kate said herbs hadn’t worked nearly as well Before as now. I wondered if that meant they’d at least smelled better then.

Strands of soot-smudged hair fell into Matthew’s face. “Three days isn’t much time. If we can’t stop the Council from sending Ethan away, he’ll die out there. If Caleb can’t come, maybe Allie can.” As Caleb’s student, Allie didn’t know as much about healing as Caleb, but she still could do more than any of us.

My hands and sleeves were streaked with ash. “I thought you didn’t intend to let the Council send Ethan away.”

“Even if we stop the Council, he’ll probably die as he is now,” Matthew said. “I can’t let that happen, not when I have another choice.”

Kate stared into the boiling water. “At least wait until morning.”

I thought of Ethan’s blackened skin. I wasn’t sure a burn like that could heal on its own. “Matthew’s right. We should go tonight.” Once I wouldn’t have dared venture out so far into the dark if I had a choice, but that was before the trees slept.

Downy gray wolf fur shadowed the backs of Matthew’s hands, a sign he was uneasy. “I’ll go faster alone. It would take us all night to reach Caleb’s town on foot, but as a wolf I can get there in a couple hours if I run. If Caleb’s willing, he could be back here by morning.”

“I don’t like it,” Kate said.

I didn’t like it, either. “If anyone should take risks for Ethan, it should be me,” I said. Matthew had warned me not to push the firestarter too far.

“But I’m the one best able to do something about it this time.” Matthew rubbed the scar on his wrist. “You’re not the only one who can save people, Liza.”

“I never said—” The words caught in my throat. I’d spent enough time patrolling with Matthew to know he could manage a couple of hours alone in the winter forest well enough. Unless he ran into owls, or wild dogs—I swallowed a nervous laugh. If anyone could handle wild dogs, it was Matthew. “If you’re not back by first light, I’ll come after you.” We keep each other safe .

“I’ll be back before dawn,” Matthew promised. “I’ll run ahead of Caleb and Allie whatever they say, so that you’ll know whether to expect them.”

“I’ve trusted you before to know where you were needed and to take no more risk than you had to.” Kate filled a mug from the pot as she spoke. “I’ll have to trust to it now, too, however much I might wish things otherwise. Come. Let’s check on Ethan—and tell Tara—before you go.”

Matthew shook his head. “Tara will try to stop me. You know that.”

Kate drew the mug close, as if for warmth. “I do know. Perhaps I was hoping for it, and that isn’t fair of me, is it?” She set the mug down, brushed a few wisps of gray from her face, and hugged him. “It’s nearly spring. Keep an eye out for crocuses. Let me know if you spot any.”

“I’ll be careful.” Matthew knew as well as I the danger crocuses held. Until this year, they’d grown even in winter, burning through leather and wool and the skin of those unfortunate enough to miss them hiding beneath the snow. He pulled away from his grandmother and grabbed my hands. I squeezed them hard. As I looked into his gray eyes, it was all I could do not to pull him closer. I feared if I did, I wouldn’t let go and Matthew would lose more time. Besides, Kate stood right beside us, and what if I didn’t stop at holding?

Matthew laughed softly. “Nothing to pack—I couldn’t carry it anyway.” He released my hands to step back, and silver light flowed over him. Skin stretched and changed, arms and legs and body all giving up their shape, as if the form Matthew had worn all his life were illusion, nothing more. He fell to all fours, skin shifting to silver-gray fur, hands and feet to paws with dark pads. Dark markings emerged around his eyes and muzzle and ears. Those ears tilted toward me.

I caught my breath. No matter how often I watched, I never got tired of this. I leaned down and put my arms around him. His fur had grown so thick this winter. I inhaled its musky scent. The smell of smoke was faint now. “Be careful out there,” I whispered. “Give Allie a hug for me.”

Matthew nudged my chest with his damp nose. He licked my chin, then turned and trotted for the door. I followed, stepping around pants and sweater, boots and wool underwear. I never could seem to catch the moment when his clothes were cast aside.

He stopped by the door and looked up at me. I laughed. Whenever we set out together, I had to open the door. As I turned the knob, Kate moved to my side. We watched together as Matthew made his way across the porch and down the steps. When he reached the path through town, he burst into a loping run. The moon was hidden by cloud, and he quickly disappeared into the dark.

Kate squeezed my shoulder. “I’m going to see to Ethan.” She went inside, gathered up her coat and the mug, and left. I lingered on the porch, staring out into the night, for a long time before I followed.

When I did, I found Kate outside the shed, talking with Hope. Hope’s little sister grinned beside them as she shifted from foot to foot for warmth. “I get to stay,” she announced.

Who better than a waterworker to have around a firestarter? Hope ruffled her sister’s fur cap. “Not alone. The rest of us will take turns with you. Keep guard, in case anyone decides they want Ethan leaving ahead of schedule. You too, right, Liza?”

“Of course.” I couldn’t run as fast as a wolf, but I could keep watch.

“Good.” A gust of wind tugged at the edge of the tarp. Hope absently held out a hand, stilling it. I slid the shed’s metal door open and went inside. More glowing stones lit the small space. Orange this time, they provided heat as well as light. Mom sat in a rusted folding chair, watching over Ethan.

He lay on an old army cot. More blisters had burst, and fluid seeped from his skin. There were no blankets around him now. I wondered how he even stood the touch of the soft sheet at his back. Only his face looked peaceful, eyes shut in sleep. His breathing was ragged, though, and the burned-meat smell lingered, along with a faint sickroom scent that made me suspect his wounds had become infected.

Mom looked up, then flinched, as if she feared my magic still.

“How is he?” I asked.

“Holding on.” Mom forced herself to look at me. “I don’t know how, but he is.”

There was no other chair, just a water bucket wedged into one corner beside a wobbly table. I slid the door shut to keep in the heat. “If all goes well, Caleb will be here by morning. He only need hold on until then.”

“Kate told me.” Mom frowned. “I wish Matthew hadn’t gone.”

My back stiffened against the hard metal door, though some part of me wished the same thing. “He only does what needs doing.”