Page 86
Story: A Strange Hymn
I rotate around, searching for him among the trees.
“Looking for me?”
His voice tickles my ear, but when I spin to face him, no one’s there.
“You’re never going to find me if you’re looking for where I should be.” This comes from deeper in the wooded grove.
“Come out and fight fair!” I call, my voice ethereal.
“Fairies don’t like to play fair,” he says from directly above me.
I glance up just in time to see Des crouched on one of the branches high above me, his body poised to spring.
I tense, readying myself for an attack, savoring the possibility of it. But it never comes.
The Bargainer’s expression changes in an instant as he takes me in. “Callypso—” He disappears before materializing in front of me a moment later, his hands brushing away my hair. “You’re bleeding.”
My skin dims at the concern in his voice.
I’m bleeding?
My hand goes to where his eyes are trained. Immediately, I feel warm wetness. The sap that dripped on me.
Except, when I pull my hand away and stare at my crimson-coated fingers, it looks less like sap and a helluva lot more like blood.
“Ugh,” I say, wiping it off as the last of my siren slips away. “It’s not mine.”
“Then whose is it?”
“It came from the tree.” It only takes a couple of seconds for my words to register.
Trees don’t bleed.
Des is already two steps ahead of me, scouring the oaks for more signs of blood.
Speckled around several nearby trees are dark spots on the ground, glistening stains I assumed were sap. But are they?
Des scuffs a patch with his boot then glances up at the tree’s canopy. I follow his gaze up, now noticing the strange rivulets of the dark liquid running down the tree trunk.
The Bargainer vanishes and reappears on a branch above us before disappearing again. Higher and higher, he moves.
Less than a minute later, he’s back at my side, wiping his hands off.
“No body and no signs of an attack,” he says. “The fluid seems to be coming from the tree itself.”
I think that makes me feel better. “So…it’s sap,” I say.
Des shakes his head, his mouth a thin line. “No, it’s blood.”
Chapter 25
The trees are bleeding.
I suppress a shudder.
“Is that normal?” I ask, wiping what I can of the—cringe—blood off me as the two of us exit the oak forest.
It wasn’t just that one tree. Several surrounding oaks had bits of blood trickling from their trunks.
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