August

by Edwards, Maddy

  Carley nodded. She looked numb.

  “I think I’m going to shower and take a nap. I said I’d sit up with her and if they needed it we’d all help in the search, but I don’t think they’ll need us to,” said Mrs. Hightower, rising out of the recliner.

  “Why not?” asked Carley.

  “Because she was lost in the water,” said Mrs. Hightower simply. “And they don’t want any of us in the water. There’s no belief that she ran off. Her sister wouldn’t lie, and Mary was busy and happy here this summer. She had never tried to run away. It’s not like her.”

  With that she left the room.

  “I think I need a nap,” said Carley.

  “I should probably go home for a bit,” said Nick reluctantly. “I’ll be back later,” he said to Carley, and kissed her on the lips right in front of Samuel and me before she even realized what he was doing.

  Red-faced, Carley headed upstairs.

  When Nick looked at Samuel, he just grinned. Nick said, “Now you two should get together.” He pointed to us.

  “Shut up,” I mumbled. Now I couldn’t even look at Samuel. I don’t know what I was embarrassed about; he was the one who had rejected me, basically before he’d even met me. My friends couldn’t know any of that, though. They just thought they were innocently pushing us together.

  Now Nick grinned, shaking his head. “Okay, maybe another time then.” He got up and started straightening the room a bit, folding the blanket he had used and clearing away the dishes.

  While he fussed, Samuel stood up and said, “I should get going as well. I have some things I need to take care of. Hopefully I’ll see you soon.”

  He was looking at me when he said it, but it was Nick who replied. “Yeah, of course. And hopefully Mary will be found safe and happy.”

  I could tell by the tone of his voice that Nick didn’t think that would happen.

  I went up to my room. Carley’s door was closed and I couldn’t hear her inside, so I decided not to knock.

  In my room I just did random things. I checked my email, put away some clothes that had been sitting on my desk for forever, and turned on some soft music. I was tired, really tired, but I knew that if I tried to sleep I wouldn’t be able to.

  The whole time I was in the room I felt the pull of Holt’s letter in the drawer. I wanted more than anything to pull it out and read it, but I resisted. I kept telling myself that he was the one who had left, even though Samuel accepted my decision and even though I hadn’t seen the Winter Queen since that night.

  When I had come into the room I had tossed my phone on the bed, which was silly, because I always lost it in the folds of the blankets. Right on cue, when I heard it beeping I had to search for it before I could grab it up.

  The text was from Susan. “Hey, sorry about yesterday. I had to run. When are you working again?”

  I told her I was working that night.

  “Awesome, I’ll come by and we can chat when you have a break.”

  I told her that was fine. I still wanted to talk to Susan, not just about what I’d seen with Samuel, but to see if she could teach me, or tell me, more about Fairies. I thought I should learn more than the little I already knew. And all of that was without even touching on the subject of drownings and the strange appearance of Fairy friendships where there had apparently been none before.

  Thinking about Holt, Samuel, and Fairies had made me tired and sad. It was only early afternoon, but I’d gotten up so early that a nap seemed like a good idea before work. Without another thought I crawled into bed and fell into a deep sleep.

  Chapter Six

  By the end of my shift that night I wanted to scream or stomp around and hit something. I kept waiting for Susan to come in, and every time the door opened my head would snap up to see who it was, but by the end of my shift, at almost nine o’clock, I was forced to admit the truth. Susan was blowing me off for the second time in two days, counting the fact that she’d left without even bothering to say bye last time.

  After I’d finished cleaning up and waved goodbye to Jill and Mrs. Fritter, I headed for the door. There’d been no news of Mary. Mrs. Fritter said that no one was talking about it. The mood in the café all evening had been subdued. More than once searchers came in for coffee, grim faced, then went back out.

  One of the searchers, a man named Michael, was very chatty when I served him coffee. He said that there were hundreds of people out looking, plus the police and the Coast Guard, but it was like she had just vanished into thin air. He commented that since people can’t actually vanish she had to be somewhere; they were just worried that somewhere was in the ocean. I knew it was too cold for Mary to survive long in that water. If she was still in the ocean, she was dead.

  I was relieved to get outside into the cool night air. It had been so hot the past couple of days that I had started to consider chopping off all my hair, which I knew was an extreme response, but desperate times called for desperate measures and I was sick of having my long mane stuck to the sweat at the back of my neck.

  I decided to wander down by the water. I would be fine as long as I didn’t go in, and it was a beautiful night. Plus, maybe taking a walk would help me clear my head. Remembering that time earlier in the summer when I had gone for a walk and ended up almost falling off a cliff and dying, I was careful to stay away from the woods. Thanks to Samuel, I was still here to remember what a close call I had had, and to make sure it didn’t happen again. I wished he would stop saving my life, though. I didn’t want to have to be grateful to him, I just wanted to be mad. It was easier to be mad at someone, or mean to someone, than to actually deal with your problems. High school had taught me that if nothing else.

  As I walked I looked up, inhaling the wonderful smell of salty fresh air, looking up at the stars and seeing their milky white color in stark contrast to the black sky. I sighed. This summer was supposed to be simple and fun. So much for that.

  Just as I got to the beach and plopped myself down on the sand, my phone buzzed. It was Carley, but I didn’t answer. For once it was nice to just sit.

  A movement out of the corner of my eye made me turn my head to the left. I didn’t see anything at first, but frowning, because now I was starting to be worried, I looked more closely. There, far away down the beach, I thought I saw a figure moving quickly. I waited. It was too dark to see clearly and I wondered if whoever it was would come towards me or move away. That dim figure made me uncomfortable. It wasn’t like I was the only one who had a right to be on the beach at night, but something about how he or she was moving made me think that someone was up to no good.

  I held my breath as the figure started walking towards me. I was only now realizing how alone I was out there, and how foolish that might turn out to be. I could see the lights of Castleton twinkling close behind me, but there wasn’t anyone else around.

  The dark figure was moving closer and closer. I told myself that whoever it was would probably just walk past me, and I looked out at the water to prove to myself that I wasn’t afraid. The waves lapped gently and invitingly onto the sand. Walking ankle deep in ocean would be wonderful, I thought, on this lovely night. I was about to push myself up and head towards the water when I heard someone calling my name. I looked towards the figure, but it was now getting smaller. At the sound of someone else’s voice, whoever had been on the beach had decided to leave. That was odd, as was my sudden urge to wade in the water, but I didn’t have time to think about it because to my surprise, the voice I had heard turned out to be Samuel’s.

  He was standing up by the road. I could see the headlights from his car.

  Slowly, I got up and walked towards him.

  “Hey,” he said. His voice sounded a little strained. He’d changed into a black long sleeved t-shirt and shorts, making it look like his face was floating in a sea of darkness made up of his hair, the night around us, and his clothes.

  “Hey,” I said. I don’t know why, but I was relieved to see him. Maybe it was
because it would distract me from my self-pity, and maybe I thought that I would be able to get some information out of him at last. And maybe, just maybe, I was a little scared to be outside alone.

  “How was work?” he asked, still standing by the open door of his car. His voice was soft, but it carried clearly to where I was standing.

  “Fine,” I said. I wanted to tell him that I was frustrated about Susan, but didn’t. I shifted uncomfortably.

  “Want to come over?” he asked. He tried to give me a reassuring smile.

  I looked at him, dumbfounded. I’m absolutely certain my mouth was hanging open like an idiot. He had never invited me to his house. I mean, how could he, considering that his mother wanted me dead?

  “What? No,” I said.

  “Why do you always have to start off by saying no?” Samuel asked. “You know you’ll come around eventually.” His blue eyes lit with amusement.

  “Well, first of all because of your mother,” I shot back. “Second of all…” I tried to think of something else to say while he waited expectantly, but I couldn’t. “Well, she’s enough of a reason,” I finished lamely. He hadn’t been here three minutes and I was already blushing.

  “She’s not home,” he said. “No one’s home tonight but me.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  “So you’ll only have me over if you’re hiding it? When no one knows?” I knew I was being totally unreasonable, since I had just gotten mad at him for wanting to have me when people were there.

  “Everyone just so happens to be busy tonight,” he said. “Everyone but me. I thought it would be nice, since you’ve never been over. Understandably,” he added when I looked ready to protest again.

  It was true, I hadn’t. I had almost gone over once to talk to him, but on that occasion I had chickened out before I got anywhere near the place. Good thing, too, because his mother would probably have turned me into a glorified lawn ornament if I’d gone.

  “You promise no one else is there?” I didn’t want to say Lydia’s or Leslie’s name, but I knew he would know who I was talking about.

  “I promise,” said Samuel, grinning. “It’s just the two of us. I know you like that idea better.”

  Now I was really glad it was dark and he couldn’t see me blush. “Fine,” I said. There was no way for me to say no, and I realized that I didn’t even want to.

  I got in the car, which was completely decked out with black leather. Samuel moved some stuff out of my way so I could sit comfortably.

  “Oh, shit,” he said. His hands tightened on the wheel.

  “What?” I asked, looking around frantically.

  “I sort of lied about no one else being home,” he said, rubbing his chin with his hand.

  “Alright, that’s it. I’m going home,” I said, and started to get out of the car. I had managed to avoid Lydia and Leslie all these weeks, and there was no way I could do that if I was in the same house with them.

  He stopped me with a hand on my arm. His fingers felt warm and comforting and I was momentarily distracted by his touch. “What?” I glared at him, hand poised on the door handle. “You lied. I’m leaving.”

  “It’s just my grandmother. My father’s mother. She’s harmless,” he said. “She’s probably already asleep.”

  I assumed that he had said it was his father’s mother so that I would know that she wasn’t directly related to the Winter Queen. At least, I hope that’s why he said it.

  “Fine,” I grumbled, and off we went. His house was a five minute drive from UP, UP and Away in a part of town I had rarely seen, because it was mostly just summer houses and I didn’t know anyone over there. Unlike Holt’s house, I had never even walked past Samuel’s.

  The house was about as I expected from the outside. Huge black iron gates guarded the entrance, and Samuel had to press a code to get us inside. Once we slid onto the driveway I could see the house again.

  It was a large stone structure, which didn’t exactly go with a lot of the rest of the houses in Castleton, most of which were wood and many of which were painted in bright colors. But it was set far enough back from that road that no one could see it who was driving past anyhow.

  The trees surrounding the yard made the real size of the house hard to guess at, but I could tell that a first floor light was on and that there were at least two floors above that. Large bay windows overlooked a perfectly manicured lawn. I had a vision of Mrs. Cheshire practicing throwing ice spears in her free time.

  Samuel parked in front of the house. At first I didn’t want to get out of the car, but he came around to open my door and handed me out. My hand slid easily into his but I refused to look into his eyes, even though I knew he was staring into mine. He went to the door and instead of inserting a key, merely touched the lock. It sparked to life, then swung open soundlessly.

  “Comforting,” I muttered. I was beginning to think this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Samuel used magic so casually.

  He stood aside to let me go in first, and I nearly died of fright. I gave a small terrified scream before clamping my hand over my mouth. Standing in front of me was a tiny figure, no taller than my elbow and wearing a black robe.

  Samuel rushed in behind me. “What is it? What’s wrong?” Then he saw the woman standing in front of me.

  “Grams,” he said, exasperated. “What are you doing still awake?” I had a feeling he hadn’t planned on mentioning my visit to her. She was smiling at us and leaning on her cane. At least, I think she was.

  “Just thought I’d come see how you were getting along,” she said. “It’s not every day that I get time alone in the house with my only grandson.” Her smile broadened.

  “I’m fine,” Samuel muttered. “Gram, this is Autumn.” I could see him giving her a warming look and wondered what that was all about.

  “Pleasure,” said his grandmother, inclining her head slightly. “Any news?” she asked Samuel, her white eyebrows raised.

  Samuel shook his head slightly. “It doesn’t look good.”

  “No,” she said. “It doesn’t.”

  As usual, I was kept totally in the dark. Of course, maybe it had something to do with his mother, so I probably didn’t want to know anyway.

  “I should be off to bed, I suppose,” she said. “Now that I’m over eighty everyone thinks that if I’m up past nine I must be about to die,” she said to me.

  “Nice, grandmother,” said Samuel, laughing. I didn’t see him laugh much. He had a nice laugh.

  She gave me a long look before she headed up the stairs. I could see that despite how old she looked, she had no trouble walking or moving at all. I wondered if that cane was just for show, or protection.

  Once she was gone, I had a chance to look around the entryway.

  As I expected, everything was in dark, muted colors, except for pops of red here and there. The walls were either gray or off-white, with black or midnight blue velvet drapes. I guess given what I knew about Mrs. Cheshire, the decor shouldn’t surprise me.

  “Were you expecting to see frozen heads mounted on the wall or something?” Samuel teased.

  I grinned at him. “Something like that.”

  “We only have those in the basement,” he said, still grinning. “Come on, let’s go to the living room.”

  Unlike at Holt’s house, I saw no flowers anywhere. Of course. Holt’s family designs lay in flowers, whereas I was pretty sure Samuel’s family design lay in ice and snow.

  “Do you have those tattoos?” I asked suddenly.

  “What tattoos?” Samuel asked me cautiously.

  “The ones I saw on Leslie and Mrs. Cheshire,” I replied. I couldn’t bring myself to call her his mom. “The ones that mark you as Fairy.” It was odd to be saying that to anyone but Holt.

  “Of course,” he said as he pushed open a door.

  Beyond the hallway lay the living room, full of black leather and dark wood floors. All of the images on the wall were of winter landscapes and there was a mounted i
ce pick in the corner, among other things that looked like they would be used in the cold.

  “That’s useful for burglars,” I said, pointing to the ice pick. “I bet your grandmother picked that one out.”

  “So is being a Fairy,” said Samuel dryly.

  My eyes widened and he laughed. “You’re so gullible.” For the third time tonight I blushed.

  He offered me a seat on one of the couches.

  “Do you want anything to drink?” he asked.

  I shook my head no. “Thanks.”

  “Want to watch a movie?” he asked.

  I nodded. I really didn’t feel like going home, and the Cheshires’ house minus almost all the Cheshires was kind of nice. I sank further into the couch.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  Samuel got up and hit a button. Instantly the top of the table in front of me pulled away to reveal rows upon rows of movies. Samuel came to sit next to me and said, “They’re organized by genre.”

  “Wow,” I said. “Nick would love this.”

  “You should all come over sometime,” said Samuel. “Maybe tomorrow. My aunt loves movies; she collects them like some people collect stamps.”

  As Samuel pulled his hand away from the button I saw an ever so slight tracing of lines shimmering under his skin. His eyes met mine and I got up to examine his arm. Without hesitating I touched him. His skin felt cool under my hands, but not cold. I traced the lines with my fingertip. Samuel had gone very still, watching my hand, watching me. Where the lines were felt warmer than the rest of him, but I still couldn’t make out what the designs were.

  “They’re of cliffs,” said Samuel. His voice was a little hoarse. “And winter forests. Sometimes of a frozen ocean. They mark us as part of the Winter Court.”

  I nodded, fascinated by the beauty of the markings. Finally, I realized that I still had hold of his arm and dropped it like it was on fire. I was breathing hard, so I busied myself studying the movies he had just revealed. When I settled on Inside Man with Denzel Washington and Jodie Foster, Samuel was shocked that I hadn’t seen it and rattled off five or six other movies I’d also never seen that he thought I had to watch or hide my face in shame.