Page 35

“What’s to get?”

“Are you being for real right now?” Her temper flares. “I thought we had a moment this morning.”

Denying it feels like the coward’s way out. But I can’t let myself talk about my feelings because who knows what might come out of my mouth? What I could be tempted to say? Instead, I push the feelings away to a bottomless pit where they won’t do any damage.

“I don’t know how nobody else has said anything, but have they actually gotten into some kind of a formation?” I blurt out. “They’re not even scared of us anymore. They’re, like, claiming you.”

Horror settles over her face then erases like an Etch A Sketch.

My brow wrinkles. “What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Kiara,” I say in exasperation.

“You’re avoiding things, well, so am I,” she says. She waves her arms, being careful not to hit any of her little interlopers, and jams on a hat.

A hat I’d seen Tayla wearing yesterday.

Annoyance settles under my skin, hot and prickly. I open my mouth to tell her I don’t even know what, but Keiffer’s bellow of “Elevenses!” cuts me off.

“You know we’re not actually hobbits, right?” But Radhika grins as she says it.

This time, when he throws me a chocolate chip granola bar, I don’t catch it so much as get in its way.

“Shit!” Keiffer yelps. “Sorry, Nova! I thought you were paying attention!”

“It’s fine. Not like you got me in the face or anything,” I say dryly.

Kiara rips into hers and chews determinedly, as though she’s prepared to ignore both me and the butterflies for as long as it takes.

I might be content to let us sulk in silence, but the insects crowning her have no such scruples.

By the time she’s finished eating, enough of their brethren have joined that she’s close to tears, and not even Tayla can coax a smile out of her.

Evan, also at a loss, starts picking off chocolate chips for her, but Kiara clutches them so tight that they melt in her palm, and she has to lick it clean.

Seconds later, Evan and I exchange matching looks of concern when a bold butterfly lands on Kiara’s sticky finger.

With a frustrated shriek, she throws her arm out, all shoo , shoo , and crumples up on the ground like an old discarded scrunchie.

Tayla looks like she’d like nothing better than to go to her. “We have to keep moving,” she says firmly, though not unkindly.

There’s a wobble in Kiara’s voice when she says, face buried under her arms, “I want to go home.”

Keiffer and Radhika walk back to us. “We’re probably nearer to the well than we are to town,” says Radhika. “We can’t turn back now, not when we’re this close. We’re—she’s better off staying the course.”

Damn Henry Prior for discovering the wishing well and not keeping his mouth shut about it.

Damn the wannabe adventurers for setting off to find it, too, either giving up or getting lost before they do.

Damn every single person who doesn’t believe the cautionary tales and has the ego to think they’ll be the exception.

Most of all, damn us for being here. Because of Kiara.

Because of me.

“Hey,” I say.

While everyone else stands around helplessly, I have a move up my sleeve. Well, in my back pocket, but same thing. I reach back and pull out an acorn. It’s warm from my body heat—or my butt, to be more exact, which is a little embarrassing as I offer it to Kiara.

“I found this on the ground a while back and thought of you. Acorns are supposed to be lucky, right?”

She takes it.

The second it’s between her fingers, the butterflies scatter, fleeing in every direction. With open mouths, we all stare, following their flight until there isn’t a single one left hovering around Kiara’s head.

“Wow.” Evan’s eyes are glazed over. “Shit, Nova. You fixed it.”

Radhika blinks. “What just happened?”

“Nova happened,” Keiffer says admiringly. “I haven’t even seen a single acorn here. Figured the squirrels got them all. How did you know that thing about the acorns being lucky?”

“I…I must have heard it from Petra. Austin’s grandmother.”

Tayla meets and holds my gaze. “Pretty lucky you knew what to look for and happened to find one right when we needed it.”

“She’s my good luck charm,” says Kiara. She rises with Tayla’s help, teetering under the weight of her backpack. Her smile is the brightest thing I’ve seen since we entered this accursed place. “Told you, Nova.”

“You certainly are full of surprises,” Evan agrees but in a way that hints that there’s something else they’re not saying. It makes me wonder what they know or think they know.

“I mean, Keif’s right. It’s surprising a squirrel didn’t already find it, add it to its winter hoard,” says Tayla. “Since it was just on the ground like that. Guess you really are lucky.”

“Why are you being so weird?” Kiara sounds incredulous. “The butterflies are gone thanks to her quick thinking. That’s a result .”

Latching on to her support, I quickly say, “I’m just glad I could help.”

The last thing I need is for anyone to analyze what Tayla said.

If anyone picks at that thread, thinks my finding the acorn is odd, what’s to stop them from taking it further?

From finding the assortment of charms in my pack?

I mean, I could always tell them that I did all this in preparation. Just in case.

Dad was a big proponent of preparedness. Be prepared, not scared. But I can’t stop my fingers from sliding between my wrist and the aventurine bracelet, the itch to let it snap against my skin. But fidgeting will make me look even more guilty, so I force myself to leave it alone.

Nobody knows about my hex. I’m just being paranoid.

Tayla smiles, but I don’t trust it. “Yes, thanks, Nova. I know I speak for all of us when I say we’re glad you’re here. Being so… helpful .”

As we troop forward, spirits buoyed by the successful banishment of the butterflies, unease drips down the back of my neck. Someone’s boring holes in my back, someone’s breath is too close as they stand over my shoulder. I turn, half expecting to see Tayla there, suspicious and grim-faced.

But no, she’s ahead of me, walking with Kiara and Evan, who keeps up a steady stream of chatter as they point out mossy trees. Thank god for them having the knack of knowing the usefulness of a distraction.

I peek over my shoulder, hoping for a glimpse of something through the dense infinity of foliage.

I don’t expect to see the eyes glowing back at me.

Not just a pair, but several, too many to count.

I nearly trip over a root. The breath catches in my throat, and I swerve my gaze, too panicked to let them catch me looking.

Throughout the morning, it had been all too easy to attribute that skin-crawling sensation to the butterflies, knowing they were lurking just out of sight.

Easy to imagine that odd little insects were all we had to worry about.

Furtively, I squint back at the trees. I can hardly see anything from under my lashes, can’t even tell if I want my suspicions confirmed or not. This is a first for me: half praying to be wrong for once.

I force my eyes fully open. Cast my gaze wider. Don’t blink, don’t blink, don’t blink.

There’s nothing there.

But instead of being relieved, my heart thrums with unease. Just because I can’t see the eyes doesn’t mean the eyes aren’t on me, tracking me— tracking all of us —as we go deeper and deeper into the forest’s dark throat. Gulping us down in one single swallow.

By some unspoken agreement we all fall silent, even Evan, who never seems deterred by anything. The nothingness is haunting, a warning all on its own. Can silence be loud? Be oppressive? My heart trips over itself like a Slinky going down a steep flight of stairs; I will it to stop.

I almost miss the butterflies, the muffled ferocity of their wings, their faithful presence. When we entered the forest, the silence had been cacophonous. I’d been afraid we were the only ones there. Now I’m afraid we aren’t .

An abruptly cut off shriek shatters my thoughts.

Immediately, I do a headcount of the Fellowship.

Radhika and I come to the same conclusion at the same time. “Where’s Kiara?” she asks.

Tayla’s head swings all around, almost comical in the way she thinks a whole person could just vanish into thin air. Except…a whole person just did. “She was just here,” she stammers. “I only took my eyes off her for a second. Just to tighten my laces.”

Evan points to the disturbed ground, where roots stout as arms have reared up. “ They took her.”