Winter Falls

by Nicole Maggi

  “The goats—” I choked out and started toward the fire. A wave of heat hit me. I covered my face with my hands, pressed my fingers deep into my skin. Then I remembered. Heath. Let’s separate and meet at the barn. I pushed through a cloud of smoke that billowed into the air. “Heath! Heath!”

  “Lessi!” Jenny screamed. “You can’t go in there!”

  “Heath might be inside,” I shouted. The inside of my nose itched as smoke swirled around me. I took my jacket off and pressed it against my mouth. Sparks showered down, hissing and spitting as they hit the air and burned out. Through the thick blanket of smoke, the door to the barn yawned open. I inched toward it. Heat prickled my skin, made my eyes water. Fiery shadows danced on the walls. “Heath?”

  “Get out of the way!” His voice echoed back to me, accompanied by bleating and nickering.

  I jumped to the side as a stampede of goats flooded out of the barn, colliding with one another in their frantic quest for fresh air. I raced up the hillside and threw open the gate to the pasture. The goats tumbled in through the gate, bucking and whining. Ash covered their coats and whirled into my nostrils as they ran by me. Coughing, I clung to the fence post, my eyes watering. When the last goat had galloped in, I locked the gate and stumbled down the hill.

  Heath crouched on the ground several feet from the barn, coughing so hard I thought his lungs would come out.

  I bent over him. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded and grabbed my hand to pull himself up. His fair skin was blackened with soot, his light hair singed brown.

  I looked around. “Where’s Jenny?”

  “She—” He coughed again and wiped his mouth. “She went inside to get us some water.”

  In the distance, a siren wailed.

  I clutched Heath’s hand as I watched the fire devour the roof of the barn. His skin was hot as a fever. “It was the Raven,” I said, voicing the thought that had hit me the moment Jenny and I had come around the house.

  “We’ll deal with that later,” Heath said and jerked his chin toward the house as the back door opened.

  Lidia flew at us, the tails of her bathrobe fluttering around her, while Jenny followed, carrying two glasses of water.

  “Mi Dio!” Lidia cried and flung her arms around Heath and me. “Thank God you are all right.”

  I hugged her hard, burying my face in her shoulder for a moment to hide my view of the dying barn.

  Heath broke away and took a glass from Jenny, downed it in one long gulp. “I got the goats out,” he said. His voice was raspy and ragged from the smoke. “But . . .” He stared at the fiery structure. A huge hole gaped in the roof, and flames engulfed all four sides.

  Lidia pressed me closer. “We can replace the barn,” she said, reaching out to touch Heath’s arm. “But we cannot replace you.” She looked past him toward the hillside where the goats now grazed. “Grazie mille. For the goats. Tom loved those animals.” She squeezed my shoulders as her eyes filled with tears.

  The siren grew closer, red-and-white lights flashing as the truck barreled into view. The four of us backed away as the firemen unraveled the long white hose. Water arced onto the roof and quenched the fire within minutes, leaving the barn a twisted shadow of its former self. Wisps of smoke spiraled up from the smoldering mess, singing my nostrils with the smell of burned wood.

  One of the EMTs examined Heath, making him breathe deep through a mask attached to an oxygen tank.

  Jenny handed me the other glass of water. I drank with small sips.

  We watched the firemen circle the barn, dousing water here and there on patches of embers. One of them came over to us. “Any idea how it might have started? Was your hay wet?”

  I glanced at Heath.

  Lidia sighed. “I don’t think so. But it’s possible, from the rain we had last week.”

  The fireman took off his helmet and ran his hand through his choppy hair. “Most of these barn fires are caused by hay. My guys and me are gonna look through the remains to see if we find anything. We might be a while.”

  “I’ll make some food,” Lidia said. It was just like her to cook in the middle of a crisis.

  “Much appreciated, ma’am. Glad no one was hurt.” He walked to the barn, his boots crunching on the dirt and gravel.

  The kitchen felt clean and comforting. I shook out my balled-up jacket and hung it by the door.

  Jenny put the empty water glasses in the sink and turned to me. “I better get going. I’m not—” She shot a look at my mother and pressed her lips together.

  “You shouldn’t be out this late.” Lidia wagged a finger at her.

  Jenny scuffed her shoe on the floor. “No, Mrs. Jacobs.”

  Lidia came around the island and put an arm around Jenny’s waist. “You’re a good girl.” She pushed Jenny toward the door. “I’ll tell your parents what a help you were to us.”

  “Thanks. Maybe they’ll ground me for the rest of my life instead of eternity,” Jenny said with a grimace. “I guess I won’t see you tomorrow at the beach,” she said to me.

  “What? Oh, man, I totally forgot.” I folded my arms over my chest. “No, probably not. I should hang around here.”

  “What are you talking about?” Lidia asked.

  “The bonfire party I told you about,” I said. “Don’t worry. I’ll skip it.”

  “Oh, cara, I know how much you were looking forward to it.” Lidia started to take down mugs from the cupboard, counting how many she needed for the firemen.

  “It’s okay, Mom. You’ll need help here tomorrow.”

  “We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” I told Jenny.

  “It is tomorrow,” she tossed over her shoulder as she bounded out the front door.

  I helped Lidia carry a tray of coffee and sandwiches out to the firemen. The sky was just beginning to lighten, a faint grey mist shrouding the hillside. The paramedics gave Heath a clean bill of health, and he followed us into the kitchen.

  Lidia dropped into the chair next to him and rubbed her eyes. “Tom was always so careful about the hay.”

  All the emotions that were balled up inside me burst. “It wasn’t the hay. Don’t you get it?”

  Heath swiveled in his chair. I ignored the heat of his gaze.

  Lidia stared at me. “What are you talking about?”

  “The Guild.” I circled around the back of the island and pressed my palms against the edge, pushing the counter as though I could topple it over. “I told you not to put those posters up. I told you those people were dangerous.”

  Lidia stood. “You think they started the fire?”

  “Of course they did!” I kicked the island and marched to Lidia so that we were face-to-face. “They had the whole town on their side about the power plant until you put those signs up. This is their way of shutting you up again.”

  Lidia shook her head. “They’re a big company. Why would they do something so—so—drastic for a few little signs?”

  “It’s not just about the signs. They want to send a message—”

  “What message?”

  “To the Ben—”

  Heath stood up so suddenly his chair fell over.

  I clamped my mouth shut and breathed in sharp through my nose. I had said too much, almost spilled my secret.

  Heath turned to Lidia. “To the town. They don’t want anyone to stand in the way of the plant.”

  I looked at the floor. Although what Heath said was probably true, I knew it was the Malandanti that wanted to send the message. Even though they didn’t know my identity, my connection to the farm, they wanted the Benandanti to know that any attempt to block the power plant would be met with brutality, even against innocent civilians. I put my hand to my throat where my locket should lay and massaged the skin there. How could I make Lydia understand without telling her everything?

  Heath touched Lidia’s arm. “I know I’ve only been working here a short time, and I have no right to give you ad
vice. But I think you should listen to Alessia. For your safety, for all our safety, I think you should take the signs down and back off.”

  “But if what you say is true,” Lidia said, tightening her fingers into a fist, “we can’t let them get away with this.”

  “And we won’t,” Heath said. “We’ll find another way. One that doesn’t endanger our lives. Or our livelihood.”

  Lidia looked from him to me. Dark circles smudged the skin under her eyes. “You really think the fire was on purpose?”

  “Yes,” I answered without hesitation.

  “Even if it wasn’t,” Heath said, glancing at me with narrowed eyes, “we need to be careful.”

  Lidia pressed her knuckles to her mouth. After a moment she nodded. “Bene. Okay. I’ll take the signs down. For now.”

  There was a knock on the back door. Lidia smoothed her hair away from her face and answered it.

  The head fireman stood with his helmet tucked under his arm. “Have a minute?”

  “Of course.” Lidia grabbed her coat from the peg by the door and put it on over her bathrobe. She followed the fireman to the barn where the other firemen looked to be wrapping things up. I watched them walk around the fractured frame and didn’t turn when I heard Heath’s chair creak. He came up behind me, so close I could feel his warm breath on my neck.

  “It was the Malandanti,” I said, not looking at him. “There’s not a doubt in my mind.”

  “But you can’t tell Lidia,” Heath said. “You know that.”

  “I know but—”

  “But nothing, Alessia. You must not speak of the Benandanti.”

  Outside, Lidia stooped and picked up a half-melted lantern, misshapen and deformed. My heart ached as she tossed it aside and wiped her eyes.

  “We have to retake the Waterfall,” I said. “Like now.”

  “Yes,” Heath said. “We’re all at risk until we do. Not just the Benandanti but anyone who gets in the Guild’s way. But you heard the Stag. The Concilio Celeste has to give the okay.” He sighed, the force of his breath trickling down my spine. “I’ll contact them and tell them what’s going on. That’s all I can do, but hopefully it will convince them to send us into battle sooner rather than later.”

  I turned so fast a crick seared through my neck. “I thought only the Stag could communicate with the Concilio Celeste.”

  “He’s not the only one who’s got connections.” Heath squared his shoulders and pushed past me, heading toward the Cave.

  I shivered and hugged myself, looking at the barn. The fireman shook Lidia’s hand and patted her on the shoulder. She stood still as they climbed onto their truck and maneuvered it out of the driveway. When they were gone she walked slowly back to the dark, smoky ruin.

  My gut twisted into twin snakes of sorrow and anger. The Waterfall and now the barn. They were striking at the very heart of me, shredding me from the inside out. I punched the doorframe, ignoring the burst of pain across my knuckles. They wouldn’t get away with it. No matter what it took, they would pay.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  The Bonfire

  Mr. Salter brought a posse over in the morning—so many people, in fact, that Lidia told me she had enough help and I should go to the bonfire.

  I felt guilty for leaving her, but my spirit was craving a day to be a normal girl. I called Jonah to come pick me up.

  He arrived fifteen minutes early, carrying a foil-covered dish. “My mom sent over a quiche. Don’t worry. I think it’s safe to eat.”

  “Thanks.” I stepped out of the way to let him inside. “You told your parents about the fire?”

  “Actually, our neighbor is a volunteer fireman, and he was telling my dad about it this morning,” Jonah said.

  As if your dad didn’t know all about it already, I thought but clamped my lips together. I had decided that I wouldn’t say anything to Jonah about my belief that the Guild was behind the fire, and I had asked Lidia not to, either. After all, I had no solid evidence that the Guild was involved. I could only imagine how that conversation would go. Well, see, there was this Raven . . .

  I led him into the kitchen where my mother sat at the table, talking on the phone with papers spread all around her. She waved to Jonah and mouthed, “Thank you” when he set the quiche on the counter.

  We walked out back to where the barn should have stood. Heath had joined Mr. Salter and the neighbors as they sifted through the ruins and hauled away sodden garbage.

  Jonah whistled low and long. “Holy shit . . . the whole thing is gone.” I leaned against him, and he put his arm around me, pulling me close. He kissed the top of my head. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

  “For now.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair off my face.

  “Well, winter’s coming, and it’s going to start snowing soon.” I twisted my locket in between my fingers. I’d replaced the chain with one from another necklace—no way would I ever be without it again. “You haven’t lived this far north. Once it snows, it doesn’t melt until spring. Which means we won’t be able to rebuild it for months.”

  Jonah gazed at the hillside where the goats milled and grazed in the cold autumn sunlight. “What about the goats?”

  “We have to board them at other farms.” I nodded at the house. “That’s what my mom is doing in there, calling all our other farmer friends to see if they can take in the goats. I think that will work out, but while the goats aren’t here . . .”

  “You can’t work the farm,” Jonah finished for me.

  I stared at the ground, trying to swallow the lump that had formed in my throat.

  “Will you guys be okay?”

  I shrugged and squinted, my vision blurry. “I just wish my dad was here,” I whispered.

  Jonah threw his other arm around me and pressed me into him, holding my head against his chest. He stroked my back, and I let myself cry for a few minutes.

  “Are you sure you want to go to the beach?” he asked. “We can hang out here if you want.”

  I hiccupped and smiled at him. “Thanks, but no, I want to go.”

  The beach was only a few miles from my house, but I hadn’t been there since the start of school. I liked going this time of year, when the sand was cold on your feet and the water too icy to swim in. Not that the water was ever balmy in Maine, but something about the deep autumn chill made the sea seem more wild to me, the way it should be.

  A small group of people clustered around a burgeoning fire when Jonah and I arrived. The sun’s rays shimmered orange and gold on the water. I breathed in deep and let the salt air fill my lungs. When I was young I thought there was no problem the ocean couldn’t cure, and as I stood there, listening to the waves, I could believe it again.

  I slipped my hand into Jonah’s. “I love the sea,” I said, my gaze fixed on the endless horizon. “It’s my very favorite thing about living in Maine.” I looked up at Jonah. “Don’t you love it?”

  “I like to look at it from this distance,” he said. “But I don’t like to go in it.”

  “Really?” We walked over the little bluff at the edge of the beach and descended toward the group. Jonah held my hand as we picked our way over the rocks. “You don’t like to swim or sail?”

  “I don’t swim very well. I’m kinda—well . . .” Jonah tugged me to a stop. “I’m sort of afraid of water. I almost drowned when I was a kid.”

  I stared at him. “Seriously?”

  He nodded. “I was eleven. It was pretty bad. A riptide yanked me under on a family vacation in Mexico. My mother pulled me out.”

  “Where was your dad?”

  Jonah snorted and squinted at the sun. “Talking on his cell. He barely even knew what had happened until the medics arrived.”

  I opened my mouth, unsure of what to say, but at that moment Jenny bounded toward us, her blue eyes sparkling like the sun on the ocean. “Lessi, I’m so glad you’re here.”

  I hugged her hard. “So your parents didn
’t ground you?”

  Jenny made a face. “I have to do a bunch of extra work around the house, but no, I’m not grounded. Apparently Lidia called them to sing my praises this morning. I guess I owe her a fruit basket or something.” She grabbed my hand. “How are things at your house?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I said. “I just want to have fun today.”

  “I’m down with that,” she said.

  We walked toward the bonfire. Music was streaming through someone’s iPod.

  “We’re roasting some hot dogs, and we’ve got marshmallows for later. Did you bring a blanket?” Jenny asked.

  Jonah held up the faded tartan blanket we had taken from my house.

  “Awesome. Make yourselves cozy,” she said with a wink.

  I rolled my eyes, and we followed her to the edge of the fire. The smell of the smoke took me right back to last night, and I shied away, tears stinging my eyes.

  Jonah caught my hand. Shadow and light moved over his face, and his eyes glowed in the firelight. The strength of his profile silhouetted against the twilight made him look like a painting from another era. The sight of him pushed the thoughts of the fire to the corner of my mind.

  “Let’s find a good spot for our blanket,” he said, squeezing my hand.

  We found a spot a little ways from the fire that was in the shadows but close enough to garner some heat from the flames. I spread the blanket out while Jonah went to find us good sticks for roasting.

  Kids kept arriving by carloads. I settled myself on our blanket and waved to Carly and Melissa as they spread a blanket out not far from ours. Up at the parking lot, Josh Baker’s Hummer pulled in, pumping music with the bass turned up so loud I felt the earth shake. The passenger door opened and out jumped . . . Bree.

  “Oh, great.” Jenny sat on a blanket next to ours with Seth.

  “What is she doing with Josh Baker?” Carly asked. She and Melissa had come over to join the conversation. “I thought he only dated cheerleaders.”

  “And I thought she hated people,” Melissa said.