by E. Menozzi
“You mean, Diana?”
“Similar. Each culture appears to have put their own twist on the God or Goddess of the Hunt in their mythologies. Around here, the Goddess of the Hunt was believed to be one of the Fae.” I needed to tread carefully here. Strictly speaking, the historians didn’t officially agree on this conclusion. But I knew the truth.
“Are you telling me that my uncle actually wrote an academic paper saying the Goddess of the Hunt was a faerie?” She said this like I’d just told her that her uncle had exposed himself in public.
Of course Oscar had not written that, precisely, because he couldn’t, and not for the reasons she thought. I struggled to find an acceptable response that wouldn’t involve lying. “This is the land of the Fae, Evelyn,” I said. As long as I stuck to human facts and beliefs, no one could accuse me of breaking our laws.
Oscar knew about the Fae. Years ago, he’d encountered the Hunt and been granted an exception as a descendent of Edric and Godda. But he’d been sworn to secrecy because no humans could know of the Fae. The price for revealing our secrets or learning of our existence was death. I was fairly certain he hadn’t guessed my true identity, but I couldn’t be certain without breaking any number of rules.
“But those are just stories they tell children.” Something in her tone told me that she wouldn’t be swooning from excitement if she found out about my heritage. The thought made me smile. It would be nice to find someone who liked me for me and not because I was the son of the Faerie Queen. But I would never know how she really felt about it because telling her would mean signing her death sentence. I pushed the thought away and refocused on the conversation.
“It’s also history because it influenced what the people who lived here before us believed. It affected how they lived their lives.” She seemed like someone who would appreciate this more rational argument.
She took another sip of her mocha and looked thoughtfully out the window. “I suppose,” she said.
“So do you still want me to tell you about the legends?” I almost hoped she’d say no. This conversation was reminding me that I should be back at the house, searching for an artifact, not sitting here trying to impress a human woman and fool myself into thinking I was only doing this because Oscar had asked me to.
“Sorry,” she said. “Go on.” She finished the last sip of her mocha and licked her lips before dabbing them with a napkin.
“All right. I’ll tell you while we walk.” I needed to remember she was off-limits and I had a job to do. “Let’s go find you a hat, shall we?” I stood and placed our cups on the counter.
Outside, the bite of cold stung my cheeks. “Even though historians believe it was a temple to the Goddess of the Hunt, the legends claim the Hunters also went there to honor the death of the animal they’d killed. To gain a measure of forgiveness for taking a life. And for this reason, spirits who are unable to cross over, spirits they believe have unfinished business, linger near the temple ruins. Or at least, they linger there at certain times of the year.”
“Like the Day of the Dead?”
“Around here, it’s All Saints’ Day.” Those were just human celebrations. “There are other days of power. The solstice, for example.”
“Do you believe this?” She turned to look at me. Her lips pressed together and her forehead creased as she studied my face, waiting for my response.
Of course I believed this. It was part of my life, my world—a world I could not share with her, but one that was very real. I knew Edric’s spirit grew stronger as the days grew shorter, and come the solstice, he’d lead his band of vengeful spirits on their Wild Hunt. If I didn’t find and destroy the object he’d chosen as an anchor, allowing him a foothold in the living world, he would continue to hunt my kin in his pointless search for Godda.
This knowledge was off-limits for Evelyn. Instead, I limited my response to human-appropriate facts. “I’ve studied the stories collected from people who profess to have experienced these sightings. But I don’t see any reason to believe temple ruins like this one are any more likely than any other place for sightings.”
“You sound like you believe these sightings are real.”
I shrugged. “There’s no proof that they aren’t.”
She shook her head and frowned. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”
“How do you know?” I grinned at her. “Just because you’ve never seen one?” I nudged her shoulder with mine.
She snorted. “You’re impossible.”
“I prefer ‘open-minded.’” Brightly colored yarn caught my eye, and I stopped in front of a store window. “Ah, here we are. I think they’ll have something suitable.” I stepped over to the door and held it open for her. She slipped past me and disappeared into the shop.
The inside of the shop smelled like felines and herbs. An old woman with a weatherworn face appeared from behind a display of wool sweaters. “Can I help you?” she asked. Her gaze lingered on me a bit longer than I’d expected and made me wonder if she might be a seer. Some humans were born with the ability to see past a glamour to the true Fae form beneath. I could only hope she wasn’t one of them.
“I’m looking for a warm hat,” Evelyn said.
The woman grinned, creasing the wrinkles around her eyes. “Well, you’ve come to the right place,” she said. “Follow me.”
She led us over to an assortment of winter hats on display. Most were knitted wool in a variety of colors. Some had long tails or tassels. Some had yarn balls at the top. Evelyn gravitated toward the standard beanies in neutral shades of gray, black, and cream. She ran her hand over the cashmere knits and ultimately selected a speckled gray beanie made from a cashmere and wool blend. Boring and practical. I scanned the display while she checked her reflection. A red-and-green-striped hat caught my eye. I reached for it and smiled when I realized it had ear flaps.
“Try this one,” I said.
Evelyn turned from the mirror to look at me. “What’s wrong with this one?” she asked, glaring out of the corner of her eyes at the hat I had balled up in my hand.
“Nothing. It’s fine. Just try this one.” Everything she’d said, everything she’d done, every word she’d spoken, had left me with the impression that she was the type to play it safe. But the world was a colorful place. If I couldn’t show her my world, I could at least bring some color to hers.
She pulled the gray hat off her head and smoothed down her hair. Then she reached for the one I held out to her. As she unfolded it, she began to frown and her forehead wrinkled.
“Go on,” I said. “Try it.”
“You’re trying to make me look ridiculous, aren’t you?”
“I think it will look brilliant. It has personality.”
She squinted at me and turned toward the mirror before pulling the hat down over her head. I watched her reflection as she blinked at herself in the mirror. Then the corners of her mouth twitched and slowly turned upward into a smile. Grinning, she tugged at the strings that dangled from the ear flaps.
Our eyes locked in the mirror, and I returned her smile. “You like it, don’t you?”
“It’s all right,” she said. But her smile grew, and she bounced a bit on her toes.
“Turn around,” I said.
She turned to look at me and stretched her arms out at her sides. “Ta-da,” she said.
“Much better.”
“It’s very festive. Did you pick Christmas colors on purpose?” she asked.
“Not exactly,” I said. I’d been so focused on the solstice, human religious holidays hadn’t registered. “Maybe I just thought you’d look good in red.”
“You don’t think it will be too warm?” she asked, running her fingers over the soft wool knit that hung down to cover her ears.
“Definitely not. It’s perfect.”
“Okay,” she said. She turned and started walking to the register.
“Evelyn?” I
called after her.
“Hmm?” she turned toward me.
“You might also want to get some gloves.”
“Oh!” She held her hands up, the fleece baggy around her fingers. “Good idea.”
She picked out a pair of red mittens that matched the hat and carried everything over to the shop lady to pay. I kept my distance from the old woman to avoid further scrutiny.
When Evelyn finished, she walked over to me and returned the gloves I’d lent her. “I guess I should give these back to you.”
I put the gloves in my pocket. I had no need for gloves, but they helped to keep up the appearance of being human. It was nice to see them actually get some use. “Let’s see the new ones.”
She held up her hands, and I admired the mittens. “Those fit much better,” I said.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she jumped. She started to reach for it, then stopped so she could yank off her mittens. She stuffed them into her jacket pocket as she glanced at the screen of her phone.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
She looked up at me. “I should get back.”
“All right,” I said. “We just need to get a few things for Vivian and then we can go.”
She nodded. That glimpse of sunny, carefree joy disappeared, replaced by a shadow of dread that appeared to loom over her while we shopped. I’d thought I’d made some progress winning her over, but now nothing I said could snap her out of her foul mood.
4
Liam parked the motorcycle in the drive but left the engine running. He turned his head and flipped his visor up. “Go ahead and jump off.”
I dismounted and managed to get the helmet off without much trouble. “Sorry I had to cut our trip short.”
He shrugged. “It’s okay. Some other time.”
I handed him the helmet. “Thanks.”
“Put your hat on before you freeze,” he said.
I pulled my new hat on. “Better?”
“Much.” He didn’t smile. He only stared at me with those eyes that seemed to see right through me.
I shivered and broke eye contact with him. “See you later.” I waved as I jogged toward the front steps. I had a moment of worry, wondering if my aunt and uncle had locked their front door. But the handle turned freely and the door opened. I shut it behind me and fled up the stairs and down the hall to my room. Inside, I threw my coat onto the bed and reached for my laptop. The screen took a moment to come on, and I waited, worrying I’d missed him. As soon as I logged in, I opened the chat application and clicked on Connor’s picture.
Home now. Can you talk?
I tapped my fingers on the keyboard while I waited for a reply. The video chat notification started ringing and my heart started to race. I hated confrontation, and I had a feeling I knew what was coming as soon as Connor’s face popped into view. He was wearing his Berkeley rowing hoodie and his short hair was sticking up in different directions.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi,” I replied.
“Is that your room?” he asked.
If he wanted to do small talk first, I could do small talk. “Yeah.” I spun the computer around to give him a better view of my bedroom. “I thought I’d be staying in the attic bedroom.” I caught myself just as I was about to mention Liam, and changed my mind. “But this is so much better. I have my own bathroom and a fireplace and everything.”
“Your aunt and uncle’s place sounds great.”
“How’s Vermont?” My stomach had already tied itself into knots, and I could feel my heart racing, but I kept my tone casual.
He shrugged. “Colder than California. But I guess it’s cold there, too, huh?” He pointed at me. I’d forgotten to take off my hat in my rush to talk to him. I tugged it from my head and clutched it in my hands as my cheeks grew warm.
“Yeah. I bought it today. I didn’t realize it would be so cold here.”
“It’s cute.” His eyes sparkled when he grinned at me, and I realized I’d had enough.
“Thanks,” I said. “So, what’s this thing with Jace?”
He leaned back in his chair, scratching at the nape of his neck. “I, uh, just thought we should talk.”
“What happened?” My heart started hammering again.
“Lots of folks were asking about you at Becca’s party last night.” He leaned back in his chair, like this was all no big deal.
“So what did you tell them?” I smiled and played along, even though I desperately wanted him to cut to the chase and get this over with.
He shrugged. “Not much, but then Jace got to talking about what happened to Coach, and…” He shrugged again, but shifted in his seat this time.
“And what?” I asked. Just spit it out, Connor.
He frowned. “I, uh…you know. I mentioned that you’d been working for him.”
“And that’s it?” I leaned toward the screen.
Connor shook his head. “Well, no, but he kinda guessed some stuff from that article he’d read, and he asked about it. I mean, we’ve been friends forever. I’m not gonna lie to him.”
“And what about our friendship? I trusted you. I asked you not to say anything. That means you don’t talk about it with other people. Even your friends.” I gripped the edges of my laptop so hard my fingers started to sweat.
Connor cocked his head to one side. “Come on. It’s cool, Evie. You know Jace. He won’t tell anyone.”
“I don’t know that.” Staying friends with Connor had been a bad idea. But I hadn’t realized until that moment that maybe, just maybe, I’d been staying friends with Connor as some sort of misguided attempt to prevent exactly this from happening. Like, if we stayed friends he’d maintain some sort of loyalty to me. So much for that idea. “Were you two alone when you were talking about this?”
“Well…not exactly.” Connor’s microphone picked up the scratch of stubble against skin as he scrubbed his palm against his chin.
I sighed. “So who else heard?”
“Um…I don’t know. There were a lot of people around. It was pretty loud, though. So maybe only Haley.” He paused and scratched his head. “Did I tell you Haley and I are dating? I wanted to tell you, you know…so you’d hear it from me first.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Did he seriously think our friends wouldn’t have said anything? Or that I cared? “We’ve been broken up for months. You don’t owe me an explanation.” I honestly didn’t care that he was moving on. I did care that he’d confirmed to our friends that I was probably the main reason their beloved prep school coach had been suspended.
“We’re still friends, right?” His question hung in the air while he stared at me with those brown puppy-dog eyes.
“I don’t know, Connor.” I shook my head, forcing the words out that would end this for good. “I don’t think I can trust you. So, no. I don’t think we can be friends.”
“Aw, come on, Evie. It’s no big deal. This whole thing with Coach will blow over. In a few months, no one will even remember what happened.”
“That’s exactly the point. You don’t get it. Your coach is a sexist jerk who doesn’t understand the word ‘no’ just like you don’t seem to understand what ‘private’ means.”
“That’s not fair,” he said. “Why are you being so sensitive about this?”
“Of course.” I snorted. Classic Connor response. “Thanks for telling me what happened. I think it would be better if we didn’t talk for a while. Please tell your family Merry Christmas from me.”
“Fine. Whatever. Merry Christmas, I guess.”
“Bye, Connor.”
“Yeah.” He frowned. “Later.”
I clicked the button to end the call, and Connor’s face disappeared from my screen. I shut my laptop and tossed it onto the bed next to me. Then I buried my face in my hands, which were still holding on to my new hat like a security blanket. The rough wool
scratched at my cheeks but absorbed my tears.
I sat like that for a while, not entirely sure why I was crying. Ever since I’d reported my boss to HR, I’d been dealing with people suggesting I’d misunderstood or was making a big deal about nothing. When I told Connor what had been happening, he insisted that my boss had just been joking, and I just didn’t understand his humor. I’d broken up with Connor. I’d quit when it became clear HR wasn’t going to do anything. I’d tried to put all this behind me. The last thing I wanted was for this drama to follow me to England.
“Eve? Are you up here, dear?” Aunt Vivian knocked on my door.
“In here.” I wiped my eyes and tried to rub the dried tears off my face.
The door swung open, and Aunt Vivian stopped inside my room. “Ah! There you are, dear! I was looking for you.”
“I was just about to come down for tea,” I said.
“Yes, well, about that… It turns out that your uncle has some faculty holiday tea that he forgot to tell me about. So, we’re on our way out. It’s a long drive, and we need to get dressed and leave soon. I’ve asked Marge to make dinner for you before she goes home. But I’m afraid you’ll be on your own this evening. I know it’s your first evening here, and I feel terrible about it. Even Liam’s gone. Oscar sent him out on some errand. And now we have to leave you by yourself. I could just strangle him for forgetting to tell me about this.”
“It’s okay, Auntie. Really. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure? You look like you’ve been crying.”
I sniffed. “Maybe a little.”
“Did you have another fight with your father?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. I’m okay.”
She sat down on the bed next to me and smoothed my hair back from my face. “I’m going to tell Oscar he can go by himself. I’m staying home with you. I’ll find us some ice cream and you can tell me everything.”
“No, Auntie.” I leaned toward her and gave her a hug. “Really. I’ll be fine. You go to the party. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. I don’t want to talk right now, anyway.”
Aunt Vivian squeezed me tight. “Well, all right, but I’m clearing my calendar for tomorrow. We can spend the whole day together. And I’m still going to make sure we have ice cream in the freezer. And chocolate. I think I have some stashed somewhere, in case of emergency, you know. I’ll leave it for you.” She leaned back and held me by my upper arms. “You’re sure?”