“That’s why,” he continued, “I can move quickly here. The distances are small, and there’s only me, Mother, and Martin to disrupt the ether.”
“In the city?”
“It’s more difficult, because there are so many people, so many things. It’s hard to sort through them all.”
“That makes sense. I must admit, the few times I’ve felt you really look at me, it’s as if you can see through to my soul.”
He snorted, his frown returning. “People are the hardest. Their spirits are so bright…”
His voice trailed away and for a moment, we both paused, as if neither was sure what would happen next.
We were interrupted by Margaret. She slung the door open and pulled up short when she saw us.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“What’s wrong?” My question overrode hers, and then we both laughed.
Rafe, however, took her arrival as an escape. Tossing a weak wave over his shoulder, he ducked through the door.
Caught in Margaret’s thoughtful gaze, I found myself blushing. “I, well, it’s been a morning.”
She resumed her route to the stairs. “We can talk about it later. I’ve got to wind the light.”
“Good. Yes. Later,” I babbled. Rather than embarrass myself any further, I made for the door.
“Wait,” she said. “I’ll only be a moment.”
I paused with my hand on the doorknob. “Of course.”
While she was gone, I attempted to sort through all the things I’d learned compared with all the things I still didn’t know.
The second list, unfortunately, was the longer one. Margaret clattered down the stairs before I’d completed my list. I wasn’t sure where to start, but she pounced on the question of Rafe’s sight. “Only sees the spirit world.” She nodded, as if a piece of the puzzle had fallen into place. “That does make sense.”
We reached the house, and though Della’s presence might put a damper on our conversation, I desperately wanted the warmth of the stove. “I can tell you the rest of it later.”
We found Della still sitting at the table, clutching the edge with both hands. Her face was caught in a terrifying rictus grin.
“No.” Della ground out the word, although her teeth were clenched. “Mine now. Mine.”
Gagging on the stink of magic gone awry, I approached her slowly. “Della?”
“Not yours. Mine.”
Margaret, too. approached. “Della?” She spoke softly, hands outstretched, but before either of us could touch her, Della screamed.
I made a rapid retreat, my heart nearly pounding out of my chest. Margaret knelt beside Della’s chair, her face gone grey with fear. “I’ll find Rafe,” I said, and took off at a run.
A gust of wind caught me as soon as I came through the front door, keeping me close to the house. I had no idea where Rafe might be. A huge wave crashed and the breeze carried the spray, making me taste salt. I decided to start with Rafe’s workshop, if only because the forest loomed dark and threatening. Fortunately, luck was with me, and Rafe answered my knock on his door.
“Your mother.” I managed to get that much out. “In the kitchen.”
He brushed past me, his cane smacking my shin. I didn’t know how to truly describe what I’d seen so I simply followed.
Rafe threw open the front door with me at his heels. Margaret still knelt by Della’s chair. She glanced at us with a hand over her mouth, tears in her eyes.
“Mine.” Della spoke in a guttural groan and then she screamed again.
Rafe would have put a hand on her shoulder, but she jerked out of his reach. “No,” she wailed. “No. No. No.”