Snakeroot

by Andrea Cremer

  “That is what we do.” Connor felt a little bit of swagger infuse his gait. It felt good.

  By the time they reached Tactical, Connor was practically his old self again.

  “Ethan! Connor!” Tess waved to them. “Over here!”

  Tess stood with Shiloh and Mikaela. The sight of the wallflowerish Weaver made Connor’s gut clench. He couldn’t miss the horror etched on the girl’s face after Adne’s attack. A look that said: I never want to become that. Mikaela’s expression had made Connor want to throttle her and shout to the world that Adne was nothing but good, that she hadn’t become anything other than the extraordinary woman she’d always been. But Connor couldn’t shout that or do anything. He didn’t know what to believe or feel anymore.

  With Adne out of commission, Mikaela would weave the portal for their mission. Connor tossed an uneasy glance at Ethan. Timid as she was, Mikaela hardly seemed ready for the field. But Ethan just shrugged in reply. They hadn’t talked about what happened with Adne. Neither had Tess tried to push Connor into sharing his thoughts about the episode. All of Connor’s friends were treating him with kid gloves. He didn’t blame them.

  Though he might be resentful of it, Connor knew Ethan’s nonchalance about the new Weaver wasn’t misplaced. If Tess or Anika had deemed Mikaela fit for the mission, then she was. Still, she wasn’t Adne and that was the long and short of it. Connor wanted Adne here, not Mikaela. But that wasn’t going to happen today, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not for many tomorrows, and Connor needed to deal with it.

  Taking a quick survey of the room, Connor noted that the Searchers had formed up according to faction. The Pyralis team appeared to be happily allowing Holt to lord over them. Eydis’s team was mostly new faces—the hideout in Mexico had been wiped out by the Keepers’ attack; Connor’s chest tightened at the memory of losing his friends. Pascal was still leading the Alps-based Tordis team, but he looked to be the only veteran surrounded by very young, newly minted warriors from the Academy.

  I could make the same observations about my own team.

  Ethan, Connor, and Tess had been around Haldis for a while, but Shiloh and Mikaela were new. In the past year they’d lost Stuart, Kyle, Lydia, Isaac, and Monroe. Connor wondered if maybe he’d been too quick to dismiss Tess’s theory about Adne and grief. They were all probably due a lot more grieving than they’d allowed themselves.

  “Your attention!” Anika stepped into the center of the room. “Thank you for gathering and for your patience. After much debate and discussion, the Guides have concluded that we are needed in the world once again. We’ve spent the past weeks regrouping and have started rebuilding, and while that work continues, your purpose has always been to be in the world, defending it.”

  A murmur of approval passed through the group.

  “As we make the transition from pursuit of the Elemental Cross to safeguarding the world from occult intrusions, we must be patient, both with our individual selves and with one another.” Anika gestured to the four groups in the room. “The Guides have deemed it wisest to continue using the Striker teams as before to promote continuity within each unit.”

  Connor leaned over to Ethan. “Considering how few of the old teams made it through the war, do you really think continuity is possible?”

  “Just go with it,” Ethan murmured. “She’s doing the best she can.”

  Chastised, Connor shoved his hands into his coat pockets. He hadn’t meant to insult Anika. He’d been feeling good when he and Ethan entered the room, but as he waited for deployment, his doubts had crept back in, souring his mood. The complaint had been borne out by his own frustration and a nagging sense of betrayal. It wasn’t that Connor felt Adne was betraying him. His resentment went well beyond that.

  The war was over. His side won. He and Adne were together and he’d thought they were in love.

  This was the part of life where things were supposed to be rainbows and unicorns, but somehow that wasn’t happening. Happily ever after, it turned out, was total bullshit, because Connor was miserable.

  “While many of the Keepers perished at the closing of the Rift due to the simple fact that they were long past a natural human life span, there are Keepers who survived,” Anika told them. “We haven’t yet determined the level of threat any remaining Keepers pose. It is your task to assess that threat.”

  Anika waited until the buzz of reaction died down before she spoke again. “We’ve been able to trace the location of some Keepers by following the one asset they still have: their money. Your Guides have your team assignments. After you’ve gathered the intelligence we need, you’ll return here for debriefing. Are there any questions?”

  The room was tense with energy, but silent.

  “Remember,” Anika said, “this mission is strictly recon. We have to assess the state of any remaining Keepers before we move against them. Unless you are in immediate danger, do not engage.”

  Though the majority of the teams nodded in assent, a few grumbles and snickers could be heard from Pyralis. Holt didn’t even bother to hide the smirk on his face.

  Anika ignored her detractors. “I look forward to your reports.”

  A low roar filled the room as the teams broke off to discuss their missions.

  “So I hear this Guide person has our assignment.” Connor winked at Tess. “Must be some kind of hot shot.”

  “Montauk,” Tess replied.

  “What’s a Montauk?” Ethan asked. He turned to Shiloh. “Do you know what a Montauk is?”

  Shiloh stared at Ethan, trying to figure out whether he was serious.

  “It’s a where.” Tess laughed, sparing Shiloh. “In the Hamptons.”

  “I thought the Hamptons were a hotel chain,” Connor said, scratching his chin.

  “Different Hamptons,” Tess answered, and said to Shiloh, “These two grow on you. I promise.”

  Shiloh just nodded.

  “Pssst, Connor,” Ethan said very loudly, “I think our new Striker is a robot.”

  “Does that mean he has lasers?” Connor replied. “’Cause lasers would be very cool. And deadly. Deadly is always good.”

  Tess shook her head, laughing but exasperated. “Forget what I said, Shiloh, just ignore them.”

  Shiloh nodded again, but he cracked a little bit of a smile.

  “I saw that.” Connor pointed at him. “I saw it.”

  “Mikaela,” Tess said to the girl who’d been watching the exchange with wide eyes. “Will you please open a door so I can kick these hucksters out of the room?”

  Mikaela sprang, literally, into action, jumping and whirling as she pulled threads to weave a portal. The moment the door took its full shape, Connor plunged forward.

  “Tallyho!”

  “We’re spies this time.” Ethan was on his heels. “Spies don’t say ‘tallyho.’”

  “What do spies say?” Connor asked.

  Shiloh said softly, “Nothing.”

  Ethan and Connor exchanged a glance.

  “I’m not wrong,” Shiloh added. “That’s why they’re spies. The stealth. Also, ninjas. Ninjas can do stealth. And they also say nothing.”

  “He’s pretty good,” Ethan said to Connor.

  Connor nodded. “Definitely stuff we can work with in there.”

  “Stop corrupting my new recruit,” Tess said as she emerged from the portal.

  Mikaela followed the Guide and closed the door.

  “So this is Montauk,” Ethan said, checking out their surroundings. “Looks nice.”

  “It looks like woods,” Connor said.

  “Nice woods, though,” Ethan replied.

  “If you like woods.”

  “All right, that’s enough,” Tess told them. “I know you have lost time to make up for, but we also have work to do.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ethan said. “Or do you prefer ma’am?”

  “Or Unflappable Director of the Lost,” Connor offered. “It’s just a fancier way of saying ‘Guide.’ Has a nice ring to it.”
>
  Tess rolled her eyes. “There’s a house a half mile due east of here. That’s where our targets are located. I’ll survey the grounds. Connor and Ethan, take the house. Shiloh, you’re with the Weaver.”

  Shiloh nodded.

  “I knew he was going to say that.” Ethan grinned at Connor. “You owe me five dollars.”

  “Get going.” Tess shoved Ethan in the direction of the house while she headed south into the woods.

  Connor and Ethan picked their way through the forest, maintaining an appropriate silence now that the mission was under way. The forest ended abruptly. A perfect line of trees demarcated the beginning of what Connor guessed was a perfectly manicured lawn when it wasn’t covered with snow.

  Ethan whispered, “Is that a house? Really?”

  “Not terribly cozy looking,” Connor replied, “is it?”

  Though enormous and undoubtedly appointed with every amenity a person could want, the harsh angles of the glass-and-steel structure seemed cold and uninviting.

  “Our job should be pretty easy.” Ethan pulled out a pair of binoculars. “Most of the exterior walls are just giant windows.”

  “I’m okay with easy,” Connor said, grabbing his binoculars. “What exactly are we supposed to be looking for?”

  “Suspicious activity.”

  “And what constitutes suspicious?” Connor asked. “I mean, besides if we see them standing in robes, chanting. Is a goat randomly wandering around suspiciously?”

  “Do you see a goat?” Ethan stood up. “Where?”

  “I meant in theory.”

  “I don’t think we need to mess with goat theories.” Ethan lifted his binoculars again. “Okay, got someone. Female. I’m guessing she’s about twenty.”

  “I see her.” Connor tracked the girl as she walked through her living room. She settled onto a sofa and began to read a magazine. “Can you see what she’s reading? Is it suspicious?”

  “Shut up.”

  “Hey.” Connor elbowed Ethan as another person enter the room. “She has a friend.”

  “Male,” Ethan said. “Same age, I think.”

  “Are you saying this stuff because you want me to write it down?” Connor watched the boy pour himself a drink. “Well, now I’m thirsty.”

  The boy sat down and began a conversation with the girl.

  “Are we supposed to have fiber optics so we can listen to this?” Connor asked.

  “This mission is all about keeping Holt in check by addressing his complaint, while not really giving in to his demands.” Ethan put his binoculars down. “We aren’t spies, Connor. We’re warriors. And the war is over.” He waved toward the house. “Look at them. Without magic they’re just spoiled kids with big bank accounts. They’re nothing to do with us.”

  Connor didn’t answer. He was staring through the binoculars at the third person who had entered the living room.

  “Connor, are you listening to me?”

  “Ethan, look.”

  “What’s wrong?” Ethan crouched beside Connor.

  “Just look.”

  Logan settled on the sofa beside the girl. The three young Keepers seemed to share an easy rapport.

  “Tell me that’s not Logan Bane.” All the humor had left Connor’s voice.

  “Shit.”

  “Exactly.” Connor put away his binoculars. “All right, let’s go.”

  “Go where?” Ethan frowned at him.

  “Grab him,” Connor answered. “Logan isn’t just a kid with a big bank account.”

  Ethan shook his head. “We can’t grab him. Not without Anika’s say-so.”

  “You think Anika wants Logan roaming free?” Connor objected.

  “Of course not,” Ethan said. “But there’s a precedent here. Anika specifically stated no engagement on this mission. We did our recon. We know Logan is here. We have to report that. Then Anika will send us right back here to pick him up.”

  “What if he’s gone?” Connor asked.

  “He won’t be.” Ethan nodded toward the house. “He looks comfy, don’t you think? He’s here for the long haul. He’ll never see us coming.”

  “But—”

  “If we take Logan without securing an order from Anika first, Holt will have a free pass to flout her authority,” Ethan said. “We can’t risk that.”

  “All right. I’m on board.” Connor threw a regretful glance at the house. “Let’s go find Tess.”

  ADNE FOUND SABINE waiting for her at the top of the grand staircase with a welcoming smile that made Adne sigh with relief. After the freak show that had taken place in the training room, and after she’d been forced to slink back to that site of her shame once the others had gone to retrieve her discarded skeins, Adne hadn’t known where to go other than Rowan Estate. Sabine would be there, and since she’d been leading tours all day, she didn’t know what had happened at the Academy. Thus, Adne decided that volunteering to drone on about history and architecture was much better than facing her friends. She wasn’t ready for that. She didn’t know if she ever would be.

  “Nice job,” Sabine said. “You only made up the answers to five questions.”

  “Sorry about that,” Adne replied. “But can you really blame me for that last one? Who asks where baby gargoyles come from?”

  “I was being serious.” Sabine laughed. “I think five is the new lowest number of BS answers for a first-timer guiding a tour.”

  “In that case, thanks . . . I guess,” Adne said.

  Sabine slung her arm over Adne’s shoulders. “All right, my dear, you’re off the clock now and our boys are preparing for that mission—so we have to take this opportunity for a girls’ night out very seriously. What sounds fun?”

  “How about a hike?” Adne blurted, and felt her heart clench as she waited for Sabine’s reply.

  “A hike?” Sabine cast a wary glance at Adne. “You do know it’s the end of the day? There’s maybe an hour of daylight left.”

  Adne looked down at her feet. “They’ll be out at night.”

  “Oh, Adne.” Sabine let out a sigh. “Don’t ask me to do this.”

  “Why not?” Adne straightened, locking Sabine in her gaze. “I know I’m on lockdown because of what happened here, except that no one really knows what happened, not even me. Sabine, crazy things are happening and they’re happening to me, and I am not okay. I need to know what the hell is going on.”

  Sabine didn’t flinch from Adne’s outburst, but Adne was horrified by it.

  “I’m sorry,” Adne whispered. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Don’t be,” Sabine replied. “I wish you would say more.”

  Adne wanted to tell Sabine how afraid she was. How she dreaded sleep because of the nightmares that inevitably came with it. How she worried that she might be losing her grip on reality, but that if she wasn’t in fact going crazy, then the truth of what was happening might be much, much worse. She wanted to say all of this and more, but she couldn’t let go of the secrets that she’d been holding on to so tightly.

  Instead, Adne said, “Don’t you want to see for yourself?”

  “I’m not following.” Sabine’s brow furrowed. “See what?”

  “Shay,” Adne said. “Sarah told us that she saw Shay dragging me through the garden and back to the mansion.”

  Frowning, Sabine replied, “I’ve seen Shay. He’s a wolf. Nothing has changed.”

  “What if something has changed?” Adne countered. “I think we need to go up to Haldis.”

  “Adne, even I try to make my trips as infrequent as I can manage,” Sabine said with reluctance. “If a wolf pack thinks its den is compromised because they scent too many humans, then they’ll abandon it. They’d leave and I don’t know if we’d see them again.”

  “One trip,” Adne pressed. “That’s all I’m asking.”

  Sabine gave Adne a long look, then said, “I guess we’re going to need warmer clothes.”

  • • •

  The air on the slope n
ear Haldis had a bite to it, as if it resented Adne and Sabine’s presence. As they climbed the snowy mountainside, doubts began to plague Adne.

  What am I even doing up here? And why did I drag Sabine into this?

  Mired in her own thoughts, Adne yelped in surprise when Sabine grabbed her arm.

  “Shhhh.” Sabine pulled Adne into a crouch beneath a huge pine. “I think it would be best if I scouted ahead. I’ll come back for you if the pack seems docile enough.”

  Already indebted to Sabine for joining her on this madcap expedition, Adne just nodded. Sabine crept into the thick of the trees and vanished from sight. Alone, Adne watched her breath curl like smoke toward the treetops.

  “Adne.”

  Putting her back to the tree trunk, Adne glanced around what appeared to be a silent forest. The whisper of her name had come from right behind her, but now that she was looking, she saw no one.

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  Adne whirled around, following the sound of the voice, but again there was no one.

  “It’s not safe here.”

  Adne turned again. “Who’s there?”

  No answer.

  Pressing her cheek against the rough tree bark, Adne closed her eyes.

  There is nothing. There is no one there. You can’t trust your mind anymore.

  When another low sound rumbled at Adne’s back, she ignored it. But it came again, this time more distinct, and there was no mistaking it for an imagined voice. The snarl was slow and menacing and very, very close.

  Taking care to move ever so slowly, Adne turned around.

  Calla’s golden eyes were locked on Adne, her pristine white coat only marred by the crimson splashed across her muzzle. The blood was so fresh, Adne saw drops of it fall from Calla’s jaws onto the snow-covered ground.

  “We should get out of here,” Sabine said as she emerged from the woods at Adne’s back. “The pack has a fresh kill and that means they’ll be territorial. And I don’t know . . .”

  When she reached Adne’s side, Sabine froze.

  “Where Calla is?” Adne finished for her.

  “Damn.” Sabine took Adne’s hand. “Let’s try to back off. She might not see us as a threat if we get far enough away from the kill.”