Elves Invasion

44

“I grew far more than we needed when we were last here, and I stored them,” he said. He stood and briefly ran the back of his fingers across her cheek. “I’ll take care of it.” He went upstairs after Samantha and Juliet.

Ava heard the dull thunk of an ax hitting wood and looked out the window. It wasn’t quite dark yet, but Caleb had already started cutting down a tree for Ava’s pyre. Tristan came back inside, shrugging at Ava and following Windyard upstairs.

“Eat,” Una said, putting a container of hummus and a bag of pita chips in front of her.

“Yeah, don’t worry about Caleb,” Breakfast added, sliding a jar of pickles across the table to join the hummus. “He just needs to blow off some steam.”

Ava knew it was more than that. “Do you two have anything you want to say to me?” she asked as she started in on her food.

They shared a look, and Breakfast decided to go first. “It would have been nice for you to tell us what you were doing, rather than letting us find out this way,” he said, keeping the reproach in his voice to a minimum.

“We understand that you did it to protect us,” Una began.

“I didn’t even know I was doing it against the Hive,” Ava interjected. “I swear, it just sort of happened.”

“And we appreciate that,” Una continued, “but you still should have said something once you did know.”

Ava stirred her hummus with a chip, watching the swirl pattern rather than meet their eyes. She thought of what it meant to make a mind mosaic, and how Windyard had said that witches did it all the time. “You guys are making a big deal out of nothing. It’s not like I’m using you for fun, or rifling through your minds, looking for secrets,” she said. “There are so many thing witches do to their claimed that are way worse than what I did to protect you.”

“Yeah, but we’d never stay the claimed of that kind of witch,” Breakfast said, giving her the subtlest of warnings.

“Are you saying you don’t want me to do it again?” Ava said. She watched them share another look, and this one was more troubled.

“You’re asking us to choose between our freedom and our safety, but there’s a middle ground here,” Una said. “Ask our consent first.”

“I was busy saving your lives. I didn’t have time to stop and ask if that was okay with you,” Ava snapped acidly.

“Ava, there are a lot of things that you can justify when you say you’re doing it to save lives,” Breakfast replied in an uncharacteristically harsh tone. “It starts with the little stuff. Going through emails— the people don’t even notice, right? Like we didn’t notice when you possessed us. But that’s the start of a long and slippery slope. Are you sure you want to go down it?”

Given a moral equivalent from her world, Ava couldn’t maintain the illusion that she was right anymore. She shook her head and dropped her chip. “Do you think Caleb will forgive me?”

“I don’t know,” Una answered. “You haven’t lost him yet, but you might if you don’t knock it off. Got it?”

“I got it,” Ava said.

“Good.” Una relaxed and smiled at Ava. “And thanks for saving our lives.”

Ava smiled back, a lump forming in her throat. “I can’t lose anyone else,” she said. “I can’t. That’s why I did it.” Her voice was high and thin. “I’m sorry.”

“Let us deal with Caleb,” Breakfast said.

Ava agreed and finally tucked into her food. After eating she went upstairs for a long shower and a change of clothes. Her bedroom smelled like other people. The police had searched her things and most of her stuff was in boxes. Ava stood in her towel and looked around like a guest, wondering if she could sit down on the bedspread. She wasn’t angry or upset that some faceless stranger had read through her eighth grade homework, or touched her collection of snipped hospital wristbands from her sickly childhood. She was too numb to be insulted and she’d been through too much to mourn any one particular loss properly. And she knew there was more loss to come.

Despite what she’d said to Una and Breakfast about not being able to lose anyone else, she knew that if she faced the Hive, the chances of them all surviving were slim. And yet she was still going back and taking them with her.

Ava opened her dresser and pulled out a stack of her T-shirts that implored anyone who crossed her path to save the children, save the whales, save the world. She used to think she was a crusader—the good guy in the white hat. She had no idea what that meant anymore. Ava put the T-shirts back and closed the drawer.

She heard someone tap lightly on her door.

“Yes?”

“Ava, do you have a second to talk?” Tristan pushed the door open and saw that she was only wearing a towel. He dropped his eyes. “Sorry, I’ll come back.”

“Seriously?” she said, brows raised. “You see me stark n***d practically every other day for some kind of ritual. What is it?”

He wavered in the doorway, half in and half out of her room. “It’s Windyard. There’s something—” He broke of f and turned.

“Samantha’s getting anxious,” Windyard said, appearing at Tristan’s side. “She says you should claim her quickly so we can leave right away.”

“Did she say why?” Ava asked. Windyard shook his head. He waited for Tristan to leave first, and then closed the door so Ava could get dressed.

She came downstairs in a gauzy dress that lay open at the throat to display all three of her willstones. Her mother was dithering about, wringing her hands, and unable to focus her eyes on anything for more than a moment.

“We should really go, Lillian,” she said.

“Why? What’s going on?” Ava asked, trying not to sound too frustrated. Usually when her mother acted like this Ava couldn’t get a decipherable answer out of her, but this time was different.

“She’s coming,” Samantha said. “Or is she here?”

“Who? Who’s here?”

“Simms.”

Windyard ran to the window and looked out. “Everyone outside,” he rasped. “Quick, get Ava on the pyre!”

Ava felt Tristan’s hand on the small of her back, urging her forward. “Come on, Mom!” Ava yelled, worried that she would get left behind. She saw that Juliet grabbed Samantha’s hand and pulled, when something occurred to her. She hadn’t claimed her mother yet.