by Nicole Maggi
“I didn’t even read the rest of the email,” Jeff said after we’d all calmed down. “What does it say?”
I pulled away from the circle and held up the paper to read the rest. “‘No casualties on the Benandanti side,’” I said.
“Thank God,” Jeff murmured.
“‘Will return in two days,’” I continued. My eyes scanned the next line, and the words died on my lips.
“What is it?” Heath asked.
I looked up at him. My breath froze in my lungs, my insides like icicles.
Heath took the paper from me. “‘Travis Wolfe dead. Bree not doing well.’” He met my eyes. “Oh.”
My mind crumpled, too many thoughts for it to contain. What had happened? Did he die in battle? He must have. And if that was the case, he must’ve died at the hands of one of our own . . . or—God—even Bree herself. Did Mrs. Wolfe know? Did Jonah?
Without a word, I turned and ran to the front door. Everything else that had happened this morning was wiped away. I had only one coherent thought: get to Jonah. I wasn’t even sure where he was but I knew I had to try. Halfway up the driveway I heard footsteps behind me. “Alessia, wait. Wait!” Heath caught up to me and grabbed my arm from behind, pulling me to a stop. “You can’t just go over there. It’s too dangerous.”
“I don’t care. I have to see him.” My vision blurred with tears, and I swiped them away. “I know a back way in. Mrs. Wolfe is on our side—she’s been helping Bree. It’ll be okay.” I tugged my arm, but Heath held me fast. “Please. Heath, you have to let me. He needs me now.”
Heath looked skyward, as though the clouds might help him control his unruly charge. “Okay. One hour. If you’re not back in sixty minutes, I’m coming after you.”
“Thank you.” He let go of me and I ran, faster and faster until I got to Jonah’s house. I didn’t know if he was there or not, but it was the first place I could think of to look for him. What if he didn’t know yet? What if I was the one who had to tell him? I grasped the lowest branch of the tree outside the bathroom and heaved myself up. I didn’t want to be the one to tell him, but better the news come from me than from Pratt, who I imagined had all the sympathy of an anaconda.
The bark scraped my gloveless hands, but I propelled myself up as fast as I could until I reached the bathroom window. It was unlocked; Mrs. Wolfe had said she’d leave it open for Bree to come in if she needed to. I landed with a soft thud on the bathmat and tiptoed to the hallway. The instant I poked my head out, Mrs. Wolfe’s bedroom door creaked open.
“Alessia!” she hissed and gestured frantically for me to come to her.
When I reached her side, she shoved me behind her into the room, hard. I was about to protest when I heard the sound of a door opening farther down the hallway. “Miriam?”
I froze. It was Pratt.
“I was just coming to check on Jonah,” she said, her voice shaky.
“I’m handling it. If I need you, I will fetch you.” He slammed the door with such force it shook the wall I was pressed against.
Mrs. Wolfe backed up into the bedroom, shut the door, and locked it. “I’m so sorry about that,” she whispered. “But I heard you come in through the bathroom and I was afraid he had, too.” She picked up a towel that lay draped on the chair by the door and stuffed it into the crack beneath the door. “That’ll help a little, but we have to be quiet. They’re just next door in Jonah’s room.”
“So he’s here, then? Is it just Pratt with him?”
She nodded. “Pratt brought him over . . . to be with me.” Taking my elbow, she propelled me to the bed to sit. Her laptop bounced a little on the mattress, and she moved it to the nightstand before settling next to me. She swallowed hard. “Jonah’s father died yesterday.”
“At the Tibetan site. I know. I’m so sorry.” I touched her arm, and she leaned into me. I suddenly realized I was probably the only friendly support she had at the moment, surrounded as she was by the enemy.
“It’s an odd feeling,” Mrs. Wolfe said. She sounded as though she was thinking hard about her words. “I always knew this would end badly. The moment he took that job, I knew.” She looked out the window at the bare branches of the tree just on the other side of the glass. “Once upon a time, we had a lovely life together. And when I think about that, I’m sad.” Her gaze flicked back to me. “But I lost that life, that Travis, a long time ago. And so, in a way, I’ve already mourned.”
I looked at her face. It was almost serene with the understanding that she was now a widow. I thought of how my mother’s face had permanent tearstains beneath the black lace veil she had worn for days after my father had died. My throat tightened. I had to get to Jonah in the next room. My heart, my mind, my bones ached to be with him. What were they saying to him? What could they possibly say to him that would make anything better for him? If I could get to him, I would know what to say. Or what not to say. He would want silence now, not the cruel, empty words of Pratt and his cohorts. I knew how complicated Jonah’s relationship with his dad was. I knew he would try to brush off his death as if he didn’t care but that an ache would start deep down and wouldn’t go away. Not for a long, long time. Maybe not ever.
“I have to go to him.” I slid off the bed. “He needs me more than those jerks.”
“Alessia, no.” Mrs. Wolfe hurried across the room and blocked me at the door. “It’s too dangerous.”
“They don’t know that I’m a Benandante,” I said. “They only know I’m his girlfriend.”
“Ex-girlfriend.”
“Even so. Wouldn’t I come over if I heard his dad had died?”
“But how would you know? They told me to not tell anyone. They’re not making this knowledge public. The Guild wants the federal government to think that Travis skipped town to avoid the investigation, and they want to distract the feds by making them search for him.”
“Damn.” I stepped back. It was just like the Guild—sneaky but smart. “I just wish I knew what they were saying to him. Because it’s probably causing more harm than good.”
Mrs. Wolfe chewed her lip. “The attic,” she said suddenly. “There’s a vent in his room. You’ll be able to hear them.” I followed her into the walk-in closet at the corner of the bedroom. She pulled the string that dangled down in the center of the closet, and a ladder unfolded. “Keep to the beams,” she said. “Try not to step too heavily or they might hear you.”
“Aren’t you coming up?”
“They’ll definitely hear both of us,” she said. “I trust you to report back what you hear.”
The attic was a maze of luggage, empty television and computer boxes, and rubber bins labeled with things like Christmas and Baby Clothes. I crawled along the center beam in the direction I knew Jonah’s room to be. Voices floated up as I neared the vent, soft and unintelligible at first, then louder as I got closer. When I reached it, I lay down along the beam with my ear against the cold metal.
“Your father knew what he was getting into.” Pratt sounded like he was trying to come off as sympathetic, but it was impossible for him to sound anything other than annoyed and superior. “Just as you did when you joined the Clan.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
I jerked upward. The anger and pain in Jonah’s voice blasted through the vent like something solid. I gripped the sides of the beam, my knuckles white.
“I had no idea what I was signing up for. You have lied to me over and over. Everything that comes out of your mouth is a fucking lie!”
There was rustling, a grunt, and then a sickening smack like the back of a hand against flesh. “Listen to me, you little brat. You have been warned time and again, and you are on very thin ice. In fact, it was probably only your father who stood between you and the full wrath of the Concilio. Now that he’s gone, I’d think long and hard before acting out.”
A long silence stretched below me in which all I could hear was sharp, ragged breathing. Heat blocked my throat. I could feel Jonah’s pain ra
diating up through the vent. I wished I could tell him I was there and I would take care of him and everything would be okay.
“You cannot tell anyone.” Pratt broke the silence. “The federal government needs to believe your father has gone on the run. If they know he’s dead, they’ll turn the investigation on us, and that would be very inconvenient at the moment.”
“No.” The single word carried so much hate as it came from Jonah’s mouth. “You cannot come in here, tell me my father is dead, and expect me to carry on like nothing has changed. Everything has changed.”
“Oh, come on, Jonah, you didn’t even like him.”
“That doesn’t matter! He was still my father—”
“I repeat, you cannot tell anyone.”
“And I repeat, I need to talk to someone about this—”
“Talk to your mother. Talk to me.”
“You are the last person I would talk to! You are the crappiest Guide in the history of Guides—”
Wood knocked against wood and footsteps quickened across the room, as though Jonah had dodged out of Pratt’s way to avoid being smacked again. “You can’t stop me from telling someone. You can’t stop me from talking.”
“If you tell anyone, especially that girlfriend of yours, the next death I’ll be reporting will be hers.”
My hands tightened around the beam, the wood digging into my palms. In the room below, a cold silence descended. Did they know about me?
“She’s not my girlfriend. We broke up.”
“Oh, please. Anyone at that school can see you two making moony eyes at each other.”
“You stay away from her, Pratt. She has done nothing wrong.” I could feel the tension in his voice, the barely restrained rage vying with fear.
“Well, that has yet to be proven, doesn’t it? Her mother probably knows something. Her father definitely did.”
I flattened myself even harder against the beam. The file we’d taken from the Guild. What exactly had my dad known that they found out about? I strained to hear Pratt and Jonah over the pounding of my heart.
“What did he know?”
“He knew about the Waterfall. His parents were always suspected of being Benandanti, but that was before my time. He was seen at the Waterfall numerous times. Sometimes he brought that daughter of his.”
“So? He probably just thought it was a waterfall, plain and simple.” It was like Jonah knew I was listening, knew I needed to hear this. He needs to hear it so he can tell me later, I thought. And in that moment, I loved him even more, for putting aside his own pain so he could spy for me.
“No. He never touched the water, for one thing. And the last time he was seen there, he was with the Stag. They obviously knew each other.”
All the breath left my body. I wasn’t sure what I was surviving on. My dad and Jeff had been best friends since high school, as close as Jenny and me. The whirling tick of knowledge clicked in my brain. He was Called when I was really little, Jenny had told me. Probably exactly a year and a half old. Why had I never realized it before? Jeff had been Called to replace one of my grandparents. And of course my dad would’ve figured it out.
“Oh, come on. It’s not like they could talk to each other.”
“It was obvious they were communicating somehow. And we couldn’t have an outside person working with them.”
“Are you saying . . .”
My whole body tensed as I mouthed the words along with Jonah. Are you saying . . . what I think you’re saying?
“We took care of it. I saw them together at the Waterfall, I made a call, and the Rabbit paid him a visit. Did a great job, too. No one suspected it was anything other than a heart attack.”
A sound bubbled up from inside me, a strangled cry that would’ve turned into a scream if I hadn’t shoved my fist into my mouth. I bit into my fingers, shrieking into my flesh. Lidia had been wrong. Heath and Nerina had been wrong. It wasn’t a heart attack. It was the Rabbit, that horrible, evil excuse for a human being, wielding the magic of Angel Falls like he’d tried to wield it on me.
“So you see, she’s the last person you can talk to about this. Because inevitably she will have questions, and those questions could lead back to us, and then, well, you’d have two people to mourn.”
I grappled at the vent, trying to tear the screws out with my bare hands. I was going to drop into the room, right on top of Pratt. I was going to kill him. I was going to watch him die.
“It’s time for patrol.”
“But—”
“Jonah, I’ve taught you how to compartmentalize. You need to do that now. I’ll meet you at the Waterfall.”
There was the sound of the window opening and a gust of wind so strong it blew through the vent. I pulled myself up and scrambled backward so fast that I was at the ladder before I knew it. On the floor below, Mrs. Wolfe gripped my arm. “What happened? You’re white as a sheet—”
“Open the window,” I demanded.
“What?”
“Open the window, open the goddamned window!”
She let go of me and threw open the bathroom window. I spotted the Raven, a black dot in the distance, winging to the Waterfall. “Don’t touch my body,” I told Mrs. Wolfe, and in an instant, I was flying after him, chasing down my revenge.
Chapter Fifteen
The Failure
Alessia
I had never moved so fast in my life. Wind whipped through my feathers and tore across my face. My vision was fixed on the Raven, just ahead of me, growing and growing as I gained on him. Somewhere far below, Jonah raced along the earth, but for once he was on the periphery of my thoughts. All I cared about was the Raven, that fucking monster who had killed my father. When I was done with him, I’d find the Rabbit. I’d pierce his eyes with my claws.
We flew over my farm, over the ruins of our barn. The sight of it spurred me faster, and I caught up to the Raven as we crossed into the forest.
He must’ve felt me coming, because at the instant I stretched my talons out toward him, he disappeared. That damn trick of popping in and out of time and space—Bree had never had the time to teach it to me. I swerved in a circle, every nerve in my body on fire. I was hyperaware, ready for him to reappear at any time, in any direction.
There was a loud pop. A black shadow loomed over me. I dodged to the side just as he dove for me. I danced in the air, taunting him, just out of his reach as he swiped at me again and again. But I was too fast. Falcons are quicker, lighter, more agile than ravens, and I had a fire in my belly that he couldn’t possibly understand.
I dropped past him in the air, the wind in my tail feathers like a slap to his face. He took the bait and chased me, trying in vain to catch up. I could hear the Waterfall now, just ahead. I swerved as I flew, slowing him down as he tracked me. He was doing exactly what I wanted. I was going to drown him in the stream above the Waterfall while the Malandante who was stuck inside the barrier watched.
We zoomed over the birch trees, so fast I just barely caught a glimpse of tawny fur on the ground below. My wings fumbled at the same instant that Cal burst into my head. What the hell, Alessia?
Stay out of this! He’s mine!
What is going on?
I didn’t answer; I shut him out. He wasn’t going to distract me, not now, when the Raven was within my grasp.
We reached the stream. I turned with an abrupt jerk. The Raven couldn’t stop fast enough and collided into me, but I was ready for it. The moment his black feathers touched mine, I sank my talons into him.
The Raven’s scream shattered the wintry stillness of the forest. In the barrier below, the Bobcat leapt up the rocks that lined the Waterfall, but he stopped at the top. He was stuck there until another Malandante showed up, which probably wouldn’t be long. I had to work fast.
I dragged the Raven down, down, down toward the water. His bones felt light and brittle beneath my talons. He thrashed in my grip, but I held him strong. I broke your wings once, I thought. I’ll do it again.
Alessia! I’m Calling Heath!
Do it, I fired at Cal. I don’t fucking care. My insides were filled with the color red, the taste of blood on my tongue. We hit the water, the Raven and I, with a powerful smack. I rose above the surface almost immediately, my wings outstretched to keep me balanced as I held the Raven. The water flowed over him. He tried to raise his head, and I plunged it back under with one hard shove. He fought beneath me, trying to throw me off. I shook with the effort to keep him under. His motions were growing slower, the life flowing out of him, like the life had flowed out of my father . . . It wouldn’t be long now.
A gigantic black figure barreled into me, knocking me so hard that I tumbled through the air and landed on the opposite bank of the stream. I righted myself just as Jonah loomed in front of me.
I heard him at your house! He killed my dad! Without waiting for an answer, I flew above Jonah’s head, aiming for the dazed Raven, who was winging toward the barrier. But before I could get to the stream, Jonah jumped in the air and caught me in his mouth, dragged me down to the earth. He’d done this once before without hurting me. This time his teeth were not so gentle.
Jonah! Get off!
He dropped me to the ground, but before I could get up, his paw was at my throat. He leaned down, his lips pulled back, his fangs bared in a way that sent a shiver through me. And for one horrible sickening moment, I thought the boy I loved was going to kill me.
Jonah brought his head right down to mine. His breath ruffled my feathers. I am not going to let you become a killer, he growled. Not for him. Not for any of them. You are better than that.
The world around me froze like a snow globe trapped in time. Something inside me broke, something that maybe had been straining to stay together since the day my dad died. I could feel the pieces of my heart, jagged and splintered, impossible to mend. And I saw what Jonah saw: killing the Raven wouldn’t put me back together. It would only break me more.
I’m sorry, I gasped. I’m so sorry.