Kate's mouth twisted into an angry frown. “If you want to protect her, take her with you. Take her away from him.”
Mom shook her head and turned away. Instead I saw—
Father walking down the stairs, a bundle in his arms. I watched from my room, silent as a shadow, knowing there was nothing I could do—
Water rose around me. The weight of the sling dug into my neck. An icy hand touched my cheek. I had to do something—
I ran after Father, into the hall, down the stairs. But even as I ran I knew I was too late—
“You're late, Liza.” Father turned to me, belt in hand. I wanted to make him go away, like I'd made the trees go away, but words stuck in my throat. I was weak, just like he said. Too weak to fight him, too weak to run. The belt came down on my back. I fell to my knees, fighting not to cry out. If I cried out I would drown, and if I drowned I would never find—
Find what? Father's belt broke skin as I struggled to think. The sling grew heavier, filling with water. They were all depending on me, trusting me—
I stood, forcing my head above water.
Father froze with his belt in midair. I walked past him, away from him: across the room and out the door. My back ached, but I wasn't so weak that I couldn't do what needed to be done. I walked through the town, slow as if moving through water, but I walked. I opened Kate's door, crossed her living room, and drew her wall hangings aside. The mirror stood there. I kept walking, toward the silvered glass—
Dizziness overtook me. There was a sound like water crashing to shore, and a moment's darkness—
And then I stepped out of Kate's mirror, coughing up water, my hair and clothes dripping, Rebecca wailing in her sling. Kate looked up from her loom, her eyes wide with astonishment. My hand, still half in the mirror, clutched Mom's. I tried to pull her after me, but Mom pulled back, away. For an instant I saw dark waters, and I knew Mom sought their depths. “Not this time,” I said again. Then, louder, “Mom. Tara. Come here.” Mom stumbled through the glass, shivering violently. Matthew stepped after her, then Allie and Tallow.
Mom's smile was bitter. “You're not going to let me go, are you?”
“No.”
She sighed and crumpled to the floor, even as Kate rushed to her side. Rebecca's cries slowed to gulping sobs.
“Tara,” Kate said.
Mom looked up. “You told me I was a fool,” she whispered to Kate, and shut her eyes.
Kate knelt by Mom's side. If she felt any pain in her knees, she ignored it. She checked Mom's pulse and breathing, examined the burn marks, and laid a hand on her forehead. “Matthew,” she said, her face tight, “a bucket of cold water and some towels.”
Matthew dropped the pack and ran from the room. I clutched Mom's hand. Her skin was so hot.
“I'm a healer,” Allie said. “I can help.”
Kate nodded. “Tell me all her symptoms. Except for the fever. I've figured that out.”
Allie told Kate everything. Kate blinked once when Allie described her magical probing, but she kept listening. The way she looked at Mom made my stomach twist.
Matthew returned with the water. Kate dipped a towel into the bucket and pressed it against Mom's forehead. “This is important,” she said. “I need to know exactly where you've been.”
Allie looked up. “It was the air, wasn't it? I knew there was something in the air. I could feel it.”
“Where?” Kate asked, tension clear in her voice.
“Faerie,” I said.
“How long?”
“We don't know how long for Mom.”
“And for the rest of you?”
“An hour,” I said. “Maybe two.”
Kate nodded. The tension eased a little, but then she lifted her hands from the towel and buried her face in them. “I don't suppose you're familiar with the term ‘radiation poisoning’? No, of course not.” She stood, leaving the towel on Mom's forehead. “I want all of you out of those clothes and scrubbed down, every square inch of skin, every last bit of ash. Especially the baby.” The sling covered Rebecca's face. As Kate spoke she reached out and drew it back. She froze. “Rebecca?” she whispered.
“I was too late.” My voice was flat.
Kate pressed her lips together. “We were all too late, one way or another.” She pulled me into a swift hug, held Matthew a moment as well. “Seeing both of you back safely is already more than I'd hoped for. Now out of those clothes. The effects of radiation have a lot to do with the length of exposure, and your clothes can hold particles you can't see.”
“I'm always too late.” I didn't release Mom's hand.
“Liza.” The anger in Kate's voice startled me. “Don't you dare go blaming yourself for this.” She drew me roughly to my feet and turned me to face her. “This began before you were born. You did all anyone could expect and more. Now get out of those things. You can wash in the kitchen. I'll stay with your mother, and when you're through we'll wash her, too.”
I sighed, brushing a stray hair from Mom's face, even as Kate hugged Matthew again, then Allie. “I'm sorry,” I told Mom, then stood and followed Matthew and Allie from the room.
The well was working again. Allie and I filled buckets and carried them in. Outside the sun was low, and the chill air raised goose bumps beneath my wet sweater and jacket. Soon oaks and maples and sycamores would shiver with cold, shaking winter snows from their green leaves.
Matthew met us in the kitchen with soap and towels and changes of clothes from upstairs. I bent to pull off my boots, then hesitated. I glanced uncomfortably at Matthew. He glanced uncomfortably back, and his neck flushed red.
“Come on,” Allie said. She already had her jacket and boots off and was tugging on her socks.
“Um,” I said, even as I thought how I'd seen Matthew without clothes before, how it shouldn't matter.
“I'll go see if Gram needs any help,” Matthew said quickly. “I'll come back when you're through.”
Allie rolled her eyes as he left. “Boys are silly, you know that?”
I didn't answer.
We scrubbed down hard with the cold water, shivering all the while. It took both of us to wash Tallow. When we finished, the old cat shook herself and stalked indignantly away. We put our ash-coated clothes into a plastic bin and changed into clean ones. Matthew had also brought a blanket for a new sling. When I wrapped Rebecca in it she looked up at me and smiled, a quiet baby smile that was free of tears. My heart tightened in my chest. She would never be more than shadow.
Allie rolled her pants and sleeves up. Our feet were bare. We'd have to find or make new boots later. I hesitated, then hung Caleb's disk around my neck once more. Allie tried to braid her tangled hair, but quickly gave up and let it fall loose like mine.
“Maybe things will be all right after all,” she said hopefully, and followed me toward the kitchen doorway.
From the living room I heard Kate's voice.
“I've never wished so hard for a perfectly ordinary emergency room, or a phone that could dial nine-one-one. But I doubt even that would help her.” Kate sounded tired and old. “Truth is, Matthew, there's not much any of us can do. Keep her comfortable. Give her what we can for the pain.”
“Liza,” Allie breathed. She grabbed my hand so tightly my fingers hurt.
“Before it would have been different,” Kate said. “There was always something more we could try Before.”
My stomach knotted. I crept forward and peered through the doorway. Kate had propped Mom up on some pillows. The ash had been scrubbed from her skin, and beneath the blankets she wore only a loose nightshirt. Matthew slowly poured water from a cup down her throat. Mom didn't move, not even to take the cup from his hands.