by Emma Savant
The woman’s mouth opened and closed like a fish’s, and finally she managed to sputter out the words, “Don’t kill us!”
I lowered my wand.
“I’m not going to kill you,” I said flatly.
This did nothing to assuage the terror on her face, and I took a deep breath. Just because I was having a long day, didn’t mean I needed to take it out on her.
“I’m not even going to hurt you,” I said in a soothing voice. I smiled and took a slow step toward her, feeling a bit like I did when I tried to calm one of the kids who lived at the mansion after they scraped their knee or accidentally burned themselves on a cauldron. “You’re going to be just fine. I’m going to get you somewhere safe, but I need you to stand on the other side of her, okay?”
The woman swallowed and clutched the man’s arm. He seemed torn between trying to run and trying to attack me or the harpy or both. I lifted my wand again and held it up, and they both focused immediately on the light glowing at its tip.
“You’re going to forget this ever happened,” I said. “You’re going to keep walking down this path and you’ll have no memory of me or the woman you just saw.” I glanced back at the harpy, who had turned to look at us and was glaring daggers at me. “And you will never, ever litter again. It’s bad for the environment and it’s selfish to throw your garbage all over a public park. Don’t be that guy.”
They both nodded from their trance, eyes still fixed on the light. I moved the wand closer to them, and the tip grew brighter and brighter before exploding in a shower of sunbeams. I stepped behind them and waited a moment.
The woman slid her hand down the man’s arm and laced her fingers through his, and they started walking.
“I just don’t see how he thinks it’s okay to take credit for my work like that,” the woman said, as if she hadn’t been screaming moments earlier. “Especially in front of Janet, because it’s not like I could just jump in and correct him, you know?”
They continued down the path, and it never occurred to them to look back.
5
I turned to face the harpy.
“We’ve been getting reports of you hanging out in this park,” I said.
She snarled at me. Now that the crisis was mostly averted, I had time to notice she was wearing a Save the Bees tank top covered in pins that said things like We All Live Downstream and Think Globally, Act Locally.
“Who’s we?” she snapped.
I tucked my wand back in my jacket pocket. The wood always felt like it was too long and brittle to fit into the pocket or to lie there comfortably without snapping, but the instant it was in the jacket, everything somehow fit together. Carnelian tailoring was good like that.
“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “I represent a group that takes issue with members of the Glimmering world attacking members of the Humdrum world.”
“Humdrums litter more than Glims,” she said. “But I don’t discriminate.”
“Yeah, a sorcerer was the one who identified you,” I said. “You abducting people to treetops and yelling at them is still a problem.”
“I have a right to share my views,” she said.
I tilted my head. “Not at the top of a pine tree with a victim, you don’t. If you want to scream at people about littering, you can hold a sign on a street corner like everyone else.”
She wriggled inside her bonds. “I’m just trying to save the environment,” she said. “I’m making a difference, one person at a time. And if you don’t like it—” She wriggled again, the threat dissolving into grunts as she tried to break free of the rope.
I waited for her to realize the rope wasn’t going anywhere.
“I’m actually sympathetic to your cause,” I said. “I’m a witch. Keeping Earth healthy is kind of our thing. You can’t harass people like this, though. Especially not Humdrums.”
“They’re the worst offenders.”
“Of course they are,” I said. No faerie or dryad or witch in their right mind would harm the natural world that gave them most of their power, and even the magicians and sorcerers among us generally recognized how important the elements were to the Glimmering world at large.
In all fairness, Humdrums relied on the natural world just as much as we did, seeing as how it let us breathe and stuff, but they were better at ignoring all that. Maybe it was just because they didn’t feel the elements in their bones like many of us did.
“Let me go,” the harpy said.
“I’m open to that,” I said.
She hissed at me, baring spindly teeth. I flicked my wand at her, and the rope tightened.
“I’m open to that,” I repeated. “On conditions.”
She blinked sullenly at me.
“No more abducting people,” I said. “To treetops or anywhere else.” When she didn’t seem on board, I added, “Look, it’s that or you end up in front of the Faerie Court. I’m trying to help you here.”
She kept glaring at me but stopped straining quite so hard.
“You also can’t keep appearing in front of Humdrums unless you get some glamours over those wings,” I said. “I know that part sucks, but them’s the rules.”
“It’s racist.”
“Take it up with the Faerie Queen.”
She let out a hard sigh. I flicked the wand, and the rope loosened a little. I could see her mentally weighing her options, trying to decide if this was her chance to run, but she thought better of it.
“What else?”
“That’s it,” I said. “Stop abducting people and stop revealing yourself to Humdrums. Put on a glamour and don’t actually physically assault people and you can harass them with pamphlets as much as you want.”
She didn’t look happy about it, but she also seemed to realize she had exactly two options and this was the better one.
“Fine,” she said.
“I’m going to need you to sign a statement saying we had this talk,” I said.
I pulled the small scroll from my jacket and unfurled it. I loosened the rope enough for her to get one clawed hand out, and she signed it, muttering about dictatorships and capitalism and political suppression.
“I don’t see why I’m getting in trouble for stopping people from littering,” she complained while I removed the silver rope from her with a flick of my wand. “There are other people out there doing much worse things, and they’re getting off scot-free.”
“Life’s not fair,” I said with a shrug.
“You ought to spend your energies taking care of child murderers and crime syndicates,” she said.
She launched into the air without waiting for a reply. Her powerful wings rustled the leaves around her as she flapped up and out of sight.
A Humdrum jogger came over the crest of the hill behind me, breathing hard and staring resolutely ahead. I stepped aside and let him pass.
Then I glanced at my watch and swore under my breath.
6
The kitchen was alive with noise and light when I arrived. Streamers hung from the tops of the cupboards, and a demolished cake sat on the table.
“Scarlett, you made it!” Rowan said.
Rowan was one of the other novices, a Dagger just a few months younger than me. She was also our resident baker. She shoveled a giant slice of cake onto a paper plate and handed it to Rose, who handed it to Carmine, who handed it to Grandma, and so on until it reached my hand.
“You missed presents,” Clancy said from the table, where she sat next to my mother. It was always weird to see Clancy out of her white doctor’s coat, and weirder still to see her bright-red hair tied back in two braids and covered with a polka-dotted handkerchief.
I sidled across the room to Mom, almost tripping over a few of the younger girls who’d settled on the floor for an impromptu picnic, and dropped a kiss on her head.
“Sorry I missed the party.”
“Target took her time?”
I nodded. “Two hours before I could catch her in the act.”
&n
bsp; Mom squeezed my hand. “Your mission takes priority,” she said. “Always.”
I knew that. Every Dagger crammed into the kitchen knew it, and so did their daughters and daughters’ daughters.
The knowledge didn’t quite squash the feeling of inadequacy in my stomach. Grandma had made it here on time. Every other Dagger seemed to have finished her mission in plenty of time for presents and cake. I was the only one who couldn’t seem to balance the sides of my life.
It was only a few more minutes before people started excusing themselves and trickling off to bed. I helped Rowan clear the piles of wrapping paper and take down the streamers while the remaining Daggers talked, then ran up to my room and back down with a small package in hand. I met Mom at the bottom of the stairs.
“Happy birthday.”
I handed her the package. She carefully ripped the paper off to reveal a small deck of tarot cards tied together with a crimson ribbon. Their backs were patterned with tiny scarlet flowers.
“Is this the Red Cap deck?” she asked, turning the bundle over.
“Found it at an antique shop downtown.”
She gave me a hug. She’d been looking for this deck for years, and I’d finally managed to cash in some favors and track one down. The art on the cards was by a Glimmering artist from the last century, and the cards themselves had been enchanted with voices that provided various interpretations based on how the cards were laid out in a spread. The deck was well-known, but it was hard to find a complete set.
“You’re a gem,” Mom said. “Thank you, love.”
She walked up the stairs. I knew I should go to bed, but the unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach just wouldn’t subside. In between Grandma offering to let me slack off at work and me missing the party, the day had felt like a flop in a way even a successful mission couldn’t fix.
I needed to get out and take some time for myself. Before I could think too hard and talk myself out of it, I slipped back out the door and made my way to the woods behind the mansion.
The trip to the werewolves’ den wasn’t long, but the thin path that wound through undergrowth was hard to see in the fading dusk. I used the flashlight on my phone to illuminate the way, and the harsh beam sent shadows dancing up the tree trunks on either side.
But I knew these woods, and I knew exactly what kind of monsters I’d find at the end of the path.
The warm glow of their campfire appeared first. A few moments later, the shadowy figures of the people around it came into view at the same time as their voices rose to greet me. They were laughing and joking, and I turned off my flashlight and stopped for a moment under the trees to observe them. Brendan was there, and Cate, and Alec, and two other wolves I’d met only recently, Chelsie and Bryce. Cate held a stick over the fire, toasting one of the biggest marshmallows I’d ever seen.
They looked up when I stepped into the glow of the fire.
“I thought I smelled you,” Brendan said.
I flipped him off and sat down on a log next to him. “Heard you were doing s’mores.”
Alec handed me a bag of the giant marshmallows, and Chelsie passed me a stick. I held the marshmallow high over the fire and watched its white sides dry and gently brown.
“We were just talking about Bryce’s new boss,” Alec said. “Guy has a severe dog allergy.”
“He sneezes every time I get too close to him,” Bryce said, looking pained.
I laughed. “Even when you’re in human mode?”
“I’m always in human mode at work,” Bryce said. “He’s Humdrum, so I can’t even explain.”
“Bryce was just telling us that he’s started posting signs in the break room about not wearing perfume or strong deodorant to work,” Cate said. “Poor guy has no idea what’s going on and is just grasping at straws.”
Bryce grimaced. “I’m going to have to find a new job.”
I tried to stifle my laughter, but it just came out as a snort instead. Brendan smirked at me, and I waved him off.
“I can help,” I said. “We have some really good anti-allergy potions. I’ll bring one up tomorrow. Tell him it’s a home remedy or something.”
He didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t have to be convinced. The potions had been chasing away sneezes since Grandma’s mom had developed a cat allergy back when Grandma was young. The thought of the Daggers not being surrounded by cats twenty-four seven had been so appalling that half the coven had pitched in to come up with exactly the right brew.
“Speaking of.” I pulled a vial out of my pocket and handed it over to Brendan. “Clancy gave me an elixir for next time you visit the hospital.”
Only two of Brendan’s pack were still at the Glimmering hospital, recovering from the wolfsbane bombs Sienna had released into their den. He took the vial and pocketed it, and Cate’s eyes narrowed.
“It’s not poison,” I said to her.
She held up a hand, and the white remains of a marshmallow glistened on her fingertips.
“I didn’t say it was.”
“Hand me the crackers and chocolate, will you?”
She passed them down, and I assembled my s’more while the group moved on to talking about the garden they were planning to start not far from here. Their last garden had been deep inside their den, but now that they weren’t hiding on public land patrolled by Humdrums, they could expand a little bit.
It wasn’t a permanent solution. I knew Brendan wasn’t planning on staying here long-term, and I couldn’t imagine Grandma would be willing to host the Wildwoods forever, especially with so many Daggers complaining about it at every turn. Still, at least the wolves had a shot now at saving up money for their own piece of land deep in Oregon’s forests.
I didn’t know why I cared so much about their den and garden plans, except that Sienna had destroyed their last home. Now, as her coven sister and blood cousin—not to mention the future Stiletto—I felt like it was our duty to make them feel welcome here for as long as they wanted to stay.
Slowly, the fire died down and turned to glowing coals, and Chelsie and Bryce disappeared into the forest to go for a run in their wolf forms before bed.
Being able to run was important to them. And I understood. I spent so much time sparring and training for my Dagger work that a day without exercise made me want to crawl up the walls.
Cate stood and stretched.
“I’m going to turn in.” She smiled at me and pushed her short brown hair back from her face. “Thanks for the elixir. I hope it helps.”
“Me, too.”
She stalked off into the forest toward the ring of tents. During the day, it was just possible to make out glimpses of the tents through the trees. Now, they were buried in nighttime shadows.
Brendan offered me another marshmallow, and I declined.
“My mouth tastes like a sugar swamp,” I said.
Alec laughed and handed a thermos across to me. “Wash it down with some tea.”
“Decaf?”
“Herbal.”
I accepted the thermos and took a long sip. The tea was still hot, and its mild bitterness was a relief after the overwhelming sweetness of the s’mores. I gave it back to him, and the three of us stared at the coals while Brendan poked at them absently with a long stick.
“Why did you really come out here?” Alec said.
I looked up, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. Alec, I had come to realize over the past few months, watched people. And anyone who was paying attention could have seen that I was out of it.
“Just needed a break,” I said. “It’s been work nonstop for weeks now.”
“How was your mom’s birthday party?”
“Missed it.”
“That sucks.”
“Yeah.”
Brendan raised his eyebrows. “It was your mom’s birthday?”
I nodded.
He pursed his lips a little and glanced over at Alec. “We should have gotten her a present.” He turned back to me. “She’s one o
f the Cardinals, right?”
“Yeah. Her and Saffron and Cherry.”
“One of your Cardinals is named Cherry?”
I shot him a look. “Yes. What of it?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s just… I think of the Daggers as being these badass women, and Cherry is not a badass name.”
“I don’t know,” Alec said thoughtfully. “You probably have to be extra badass with a name like Cherry.”
I rolled my eyes at both of them. “We all have coven names. To honor the first Stiletto.”
“Little Red Riding Hood,” Alec said.
The way he and Brendan spoke, it was like they thought they were going to get points for everything they remembered about the Daggers. It was endearing.
“Yes, Little Red,” I said. “That’s what most of the Glimmering world calls her, anyway.”
“What was her real name?” Brendan said.
I glanced over at him. “That would be telling.” I winked. He made a face at me.
It felt so nice to just sit around with friends, sharing tea and talking about life. And sure, these friends were part of a group that was historically at odds with my family, and that tension hadn’t gone away—but it was hard to care what the Wildwoods were. I knew who they were, and that meant much more.
“But you’re okay?” Alec asked.
I tossed a twig into the coals and watched as a fresh tongue of fire consumed it.
“I’m okay.”
“That was convincing,” Brendan said.
They were both watching me. Their eyes, which were the exact same hazel but still so different, caught the light of the coals.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I just haven’t figured out how to juggle everything yet, and I feel like I’m not… I don’t know, I’m not proving myself or whatever.”
I tossed another twig onto the coals. This one was damp and smoldered for a moment.
“Sienna was obviously a good choice for Stiletto,” I said. “She handled everything perfectly, and I just feel like I’m not managing things as well as she did.”