The Grave Winner

by Lindsey Loucks

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  Tram stood, still not looking at me, and fisted his hands. He shook his head. “It should be over for you.”

  I flinched at his choice of words. It was already over for me. Using my good arm for a prop, I sat up. Jo put her hand behind my back to help.

  “You were in Wichita,” I said.

  “I shouldn’t have left you.” Tram’s jaw clenched and unclenched.

  Thunder bounced along the gray sky as Jo squeezed my shoulder. The rain seemed to be easing, but the wind had picked up.

  “They…” She darted a look back at the apartment building. “Do you know who they are?”

  “Yes,” I said. After everything she’d been through that day, she deserved the whole truth. “I know who they are.”

  Jo’s tear-filled eyes widened and she dropped her voice to a whisper. “Are they still here?”

  “No,” Tram said. “They disappeared as soon as I came.”

  Jo shivered. “How do you know?”

  “I can feel their vibrations in the trees.”

  “Oh.” Jo nodded, as if what Tram had just said was completely normal. “Can you stand up, Leigh?”

  “Yeah.”

  I took Jo’s outstretched hand, and she helped me to my feet. The world seemed to be spinning too fast, and both my brain and body couldn’t keep up. The soaked woodchips shifted under me. Before I fell a second time, my own solid tree was there to catch me again.

  Tram held me to his chest as I pressed myself against him to get my dizziness under control. Falling out of the tree must have spun my brain in circles, and it didn’t know how to stop. I breathed in his sun-drenched soil and wood scent and held him tight.

  “What happened to you?” I asked.

  He pulled away, his arms still around my waist. His fierce green eyes mismatched the tenderness of his touch. “What happened to you? I told you to touch a tree whenever you needed me. Why didn’t you?”

  “What? I did. Thousands of times.”

  “Leigh,” Jo said, touching my good arm. “What happened back there? Who were those…?” She paused long enough to shiver. “Those things?”

  “I need answers myself.” I glanced at Tram, then back to Jo. “Callum’s probably wondering where his car is. Can I call you later?”

  She nodded and wrapped an arm around me. I untangled myself from Tram to give her a bone-crushing hug.

  “Thank you for saving me.” Her shoulders shook as she squeezed me harder. Tears and rain transferred from her cheek to mine.

  “Any time.”

  Jo released me and flicked her gaze to Tram. “I know you’ll take care of her. And you better not leave her again.”

  Tram flinched. “I won’t.”

  Jo ran around the building, and the pieces of her skirt on either side of the rip curled in on themselves like wings against a bird.

  “What happened, Leigh? Why were One and Two here with you? You have to tell me everything.”

  “I will.” I swallowed, my throat dry even in the moist air. A soft drizzle began to fall, and flecks of blue sky peeked through the gray clouds in the distance. I gestured to the nightmare tree. “But not here.”

  Tram nodded and curled a finger at the woodchips. Tree roots splintered through, cracking the earth open with sharp snaps and a rumble. They grasped the edges of a deep hole. I looked down into its dark depths, my brain struggling to make sense of anything.

  Tram swept me up in his arms. Drops of rain clung to his eyelashes while others escaped down his damaged face. “Hang on to me.”

  I circled my arms around his neck, careful not to brush him with my bandage. We dropped inside. The falling sensation wasn’t nearly as bad or as long as it’d been when I fell out of the tree. Falling into the ground was way better, especially when it was with Tram.

  He rushed forward. Tree roots wound and twisted together to form a path just before he put down his next step. They creaked and popped in protest, but obeyed his command anyway. I squeezed my eyes shut while the smell of rich, damp soil filled my nose. My hair whipped around behind me with our speed. Dirt bit into my face and lips until I buried them in Tram’s neck. The steady rise and fall of his chest made me want to squeeze him tighter. We slowed, then stopped.

  I opened one eye, then the next. We stood inside the Trinity trees in the graveyard.

  Tram set me down next to the oak tree but didn’t let go. “Tell me what happened.” He narrowed his eyes. “Did you bury something else?”

  “No.” Drips of rain plunked onto the leaves above, our own private drumbeat.

  “Then what?”

  The concern in his eyes pushed my answer back into my mouth. If I told him, it would hurt him. Maybe more than he already was. I reached for the welts that sliced through his face, but didn’t touch them.

  “You need to tell me who did this,” I demanded.

  He took my fingers in his hand and brought them to his lips. “I need to know what happened to you.”

  His warm breath on my fingertips charged my heart. “You first.” I knew I was stalling, but I wanted to cherish every second before I told him.

  He brought my hand to rest on his heart, holding it there. “A woman from Wichita helped set the Sorceresses free before the Counselor had a chance to convict them and send them to the Core.”

  “How?”

  “The woman is a Sorceress. She was bit by her great aunts, two Sorceresses in Gretchen’s cult, and spidery venom spread to her. She crawled down, infected One and Two, and all of them crawled back to the surface as spiders.” He studied my hand under his own, his face grim. “Spiders are always burrowing under my roots, so I didn’t even notice when they escaped. They were undetectable.”

  I rubbed my spider bite against my side and the edges of the band aid came loose. Had I been undetectable, too?

  “Six months as a Trammeler, and I didn’t even consider that possibility for escape.” His shoulders drooped while he shook his head. “She knew exactly what my weakness was, even when I didn’t, and took full advantage. If they’re all spiders, then that’s why I haven’t been able to find Gretchen’s cult.”

  This was all too much. Everything that had happened was beyond wrapping my brain around. Why would someone help set free the triggers for a massive Core prison break? A chill licked up my back, and I leaned into Tram for his warmth.

  “Why did One and Two go to Wichita?” I asked.

  “To choose their Three.”

  “They…did?” I searched Tram’s wounds as if they could give me answers. “The news lady?”

  He nodded but wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I sensed One and Two’s vibrations leaving town, as Sorceresses, not spiders, so I followed them. Then, One, Two, and Ica burrowed under the news station as spiders. I ripped the building to shreds trying to find them, but…” His jaw worked up and down while he gnashed his teeth together. “In three days, the world will be turned upside down because of me. Because of what I couldn’t do and didn’t know.”

  He pulled away as if he couldn’t look me in the eye, as if this really was all his fault.

  But I was Three. I’d been chosen because I was stupid enough to volunteer. So why were there two of us? What did the Sorceressi need with two Threes? But I couldn’t ask him any of this yet because he only knew half of it.

  “Three days,” I said after a hard swallow. “That’s all?”

  “I’ll try to recruit some Sorceresses to help me.” He turned, his expression fierce, and took a step forward. “But you have to promise not to leave your house. It won’t be safe. Not with Gretchen and every prisoner loose.” A mix of emotions played across his face while he studied me. “What’s wrong?”

  There were two of us. Two Threes. In case one of us had a bigger, worthier gift for the dead?

  I needed more answers so I ignored his question. “So, what will happen exactly?”

  “She’ll be buried in Sarah’s grave, die, become Three, and the final hinge on the doo
r to the Core will open.” Tram’s eyes sharpened while he studied me. “You have to tell me what happened. Why did One and Two show up here right after they chose their Three?”

  Time ticked on, even though I didn’t want it to. While I hesitated to answer his question, he grabbed my wrist and thumbed my band aid. His eyes never leaving mine, he ripped it from my wrist. I winced. Words formed on his perfect lips, but he didn’t say anything. He looked from my wrist to me with alarm.

  “Leigh…”

  I chomped at my lip and wished time would rewind. Closing my eyes, I sucked in a breath then looked down at my wrist. The number three inked my skin black beneath the raised red bump, small at first. Then it grew. It curved over the palm of my hand and dipped down onto half my forearm.

  I jerked away from Tram and raked my fingernails over my arm. “Get it off me,” I screamed.

  Tram took both arms and pinned them to my sides, his mouth hanging open, eyebrows squeezed together. “I couldn’t feel your touch because of the venom. You might as well have been a spider. Undetectable.”

  Cold realization lowered into my stomach, freezing me. The Sorceressi bit me to keep Tram away. They’d chosen me and another Three. What other tricks could they have planned?

  “How did you know to come?” My voice sounded far away, disconnected from this messed up reality.

  “Jo’s touch. I memorized it when I shook her hand in the video store parking lot.” His eyes darkened to the color of rain-drenched leaves when he lowered his head to mine. “Leigh, please tell me. Tell me what that three on your arm is.” From the shaky way he said it, it sounded like he already knew and refused to believe it.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “What if there are two Threes?”

  “Two?” His grip on my arms slackened.

  “They were going to choose my sister. Sarah showed me. One and Two were at my house. They were spiders and then they weren’t. And I told them to choose me instead.” The words heaved from my mouth in a jumbled mess.

  Tram took a sharp breath. His face paled as he backed away, shaking his head hard as if to clear it from the truth. “No.”

  “They chose me right before you came.”

  Tram dropped to his knees with a choking sound.

  I swiped at my tears and glanced over in the direction of Sarah’s grave. “Only three days.”

  “I’ve failed.” Kneeling in front of me, Tram bent his head and stared at the ground. “I have failed so much.”

  A bitter gust of wind pressed me sideways like it wanted to squeeze the life out of me. Sarah’s grave, a prize for the winner. Now there were two.

  “Me and Ica,” I said. “We both win.”

  Day One

  I’d never tossed and turned so much in my life. My nerves had to be translucent since they’d stretched themselves near the snapping point. At around five in the morning, I gave up. There were other battles I wanted to fight, and sleep was not one of them. I tiptoed to the kitchen and took a can of carbonated breakfast from the refrigerator. The sweet fizz slid down my throat but did little to clear my head.

  I tugged at the long sleeve of my t-shirt to keep the Three tattoo covered. Dad was so going to kill me if he saw it. Maybe he would kill me before the Sorceressi did.

  He and Darby wouldn’t be up for another few hours since it was Sunday. I wasn’t sure if even they could distract me from the tumble of thoughts in my head. But if I didn’t busy myself with something, I feared I would deflate into a trembling pile of goo. I had to at least pretend everything was normal.

  There were too many things I wanted to do before my time was up, but I had no idea where to start. I wandered out of the kitchen, but a crackling in the living room stopped me short.

  Another crackle. I stepped into the living room. Nothing was moving. No spiders, nothing. Then a flutter of movement. A black leaf fell through other black leaves off the plant in the corner next to the couch. My stomach tightened.

  I glanced out the window, but night crowded the glass. My gaze flicked toward the door. With shallow breaths, I flipped the porch light on, opened the door, and stepped out.

  The constant crackle of dead leaves sounded from everywhere. When I stepped toward the tree, the crunch under my socks chased shivers up my back. I pivoted my feet so I could see the ground by the porch light behind me. Dark gloom spread from my socks. It wasn’t my shadow. My shadow couldn’t spread across the entire yard, crumbling and cracking everything to death, until the whole lawn was as black as the sky.

  No, it wasn’t my shadow. It was me.

  I wasn’t even dead yet, and already I was becoming like One and Two? A violent shudder shook my bones and rattled my teeth together. In three days, I would die. Or the other Three would. Either way, all the magical prisoners would be freed from the Core. There had to be a way to stop this, but I was no match for two Sorceressi hell-bent on freeing Gretchen.

  If I died and became one of them, what would Dad and Darby do? They’d already been through so much. They didn’t need me to be a zombie Sorceress and suffer through the destruction of the world, too.

  My breaths came in short scrapes. I willed myself to get a grip, for them, and strode back toward the house.

  The weight in my heart multiplied and pinched the air from my lungs. Mom’s lilacs were stripped of their delicate purple petals. Only gnarled gray stems remained. I forced myself to breathe, but the stab of pain in my chest didn’t make it easy.

  With my teeth clamped together so I wouldn’t wilt, I marched into the house. Minutes later, I stood in the garage with combat boots on my feet and two blue tarps in my hands. I covered the lilacs with the tarps and secured them from the wind with some of Mom’s old flower pots. My teeth ached at the effort to keep from crying, but no one needed to see dead lilacs.

  The ground rumbled.

  I rubbed the spider bite in the center of my tattoo while I looked around for where Tram would appear. He had said I needed to get rid of the venom so he could feel my touch on trees. I demanded he be at my house first thing this morning and that he had to make it quick. If his way didn’t work, I would use a kitchen knife to chop my whole arm off. Hopefully his way worked.

  More grumbles belowground, then Tram’s blond curls caught the porch light when he poked his head through a hole. He scanned the area with tired, shadowed eyes. Fresh welts and bruises covered the old ones across his face. Lips pressed together in a grimace, he put a hand to the dead grass to climb out, and it crumbled between his fingers.

  He stopped to glance at me, a frown pulling at his mouth. “If your yard was inside a Trinity, I could fix it. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” I walked toward him and brushed his curls out of his wounds. “Tell me who keeps doing this. You’ve been too busy to laugh or kiss or make the bells ring, so it can’t be because of me. Is it?”

  He leaned into my hand and closed his eyes. “I should be the least of your worries, Leigh.” The grass crunched beneath him when he climbed out, one hand holding his side like he might come undone. Branches snaked back inside the hole. The ground sealed itself shut with a slight tremble. “Come on. We’ll travel through concrete so you don’t…”

  I winced. “Kill everything.”

  Tram squeezed my hand, the one without the tattoo, and led me to the driveway. He curled a finger at the ground. Roots creaked through. Concrete scraped against concrete. He scooped me up in his arms and dropped.

  Our speed spit concrete in my face. I pressed into Tram and breathed in his wooden, earthy scent. Every step he took wobbled his balance, and I knew carrying me hurt him. I pressed my lips to his neck and willed myself to become a feather.

  A faint light spilled through up ahead, and we slowed. The roots spread the hole bigger, and concrete cracked and shifted. I pushed against Tram so he wouldn’t have to climb up with me, but he didn’t let go. He clambered through, his body tense, and set me down.

  “You don’t have to carry me, you know. I can walk on my own.”

>   Tram shrugged, a trace of a smile on his face, and waved his hand at the cement sidewalk. The roots crawled back inside. The hole sealed up after them and finished with a sigh. Not even a crack remained.

  I stared at the sidewalk, then at him. “I didn’t turn your roots black.” My voice sounded thick.

  “The roots are from the Trinity trees. They’re immortal, so you can’t hurt them.” He entwined his fingers with mine. “Let’s go.”

  We started up the sidewalk in front of the public library. Crickets chirped, drawing the sun out of hiding. Ribbons of soft blue streaked the darkness, and I knew I didn’t have much time.

  “We have to make this quick,” I said as the front doors slid aside with an airy shh. “If I’m not home when my dad wakes up and I still have a tattoo, he’ll put me in the Trinity grave himself.” I inhaled the comforting ink and old paper smell, hoping to ease my nerves. “They’re open? It’s like 5:30 in the morning.”

  “They’re open all the time for Trammelers,” Tram said.

  A man with glasses behind the front desk carried a stack of books to a nearby cart. He didn’t have any hair to put in his mouth like the librarian I was used to.

  I sighed. Ms. Hansen and Mrs. Rios had vanished. I’d tried to call both of them countless times yesterday to see if Mrs. Rios was all right, but neither of them answered.

  The man stopped and blinked. “Our Trammeler. Can I help you with something?”

  “No thank you, Jim.” We rounded the corner of a large display of new books. Their flashy covers glared under the fluorescent lights. Tram looked straight ahead, his shoulders squared and rigid.

  Orange cones with security tape wrapped around them blocked off the silver doors of an elevator ahead. A guard off to one side saw us coming and saluted, his pudgy hand leveled with an eyebrow. Tram only nodded at him while he pushed the button and held the tape up for me to climb under.

  Somehow I grinned, and pride fluttered through me while I ducked under. Rules didn’t apply to him. People in this library knew who and what he was, and they obviously respected him. They must know he deserved respect for going after One and Two by himself with little to no training.