“Do you think he killed Ben?” I asked her.
Mom set the cloth aside. “I think it likely.”
My damp socks were cold. “Do you wish I’d left him in the forest?”
“There are those who would do that in this town and not regret it. I know that well enough.” Mom looked at Ethan as she spoke. “I am glad to learn my daughter is not one of them.”
Ethan whimpered in his sleep. Wisps of smoke escaped the bandages around his hands. Mom scrambled to her feet and grabbed a water basin from beside the bed. She shoved it into my hands, pulled Ethan up, and plunged his hands into the water, which sizzled at the sudden heat. Ethan cried out and fought Mom, but she didn’t release him until the sizzling stopped. Tears streamed down his face as he fell back to the bed. I returned the basin to the floor as Mom moved Ethan’s arms back to his sides. Neither of us spoke until he’d settled back into sleep.
Mom sighed as she straightened his blankets. “He has far less control than Jayce’s granddaughter did. That worries me. I don’t know as much about the wilder magics, like those that deal with fire and plants. If I did, maybe our firestarter would have lived.”
I drew an acorn from the bag. Caleb’s sister Karin was a plant mage. “Karin’s magic isn’t wild.” She had better control than anyone I knew.
Mom picked up her darning from where it had fallen to the floor. “I still can’t imagine Karinna teaching humans.”
I opened my mouth, strangely stung. It was Karin who’d first taught me about magic, while Mom had still been keeping her teaching secret from me. “Karin saved my life.” When mulberry trees had attacked Matthew and me, she’d rescued us. I thought of how harsh she’d been to Caleb in my vision. That vision didn’t match the woman I knew. “Karin was kind to me.”
“But not to me,” Mom said.
She is only human, Kaylen. You do her no harm, any more than hood and jesses do harm to a hawk. It was Mom Karin had been speaking about. That didn’t fit what I knew of her, either. Karin taught an entire town full of human children.
But before that, Karin had fought against my people in the War. Allie had told me so.
I turned the acorn in my hands. I suspected that this was about neither Karin’s teaching nor which side she’d fought on. “Karin didn’t like you and Caleb being together, did she?” The vision had made that clear enough.
Mom moved her needle through the wool with slow, careful stitches. She never spoke of her time in Faerie, no matter how often I asked. The memory of how frightened she’d been in my vision kept me from asking too often, but it didn’t make my questions go away. “Can you at least tell me how the War started?”
Mom pushed her needle too hard; it punched through the wool to stab her finger. She cursed and brought her finger to her lips. “Right. I need a break. You up for taking a turn with Ethan?”
For years I’d thought I knew how the War had begun—the faerie folk had attacked us, for reasons of their own. Now that I’d seen the damage my people had done to Faerie in turn, I knew it couldn’t be that simple. “Why won’t you tell me?”
Mom stood and looked at me. A drop of blood had beaded on her fingertip. “There’s some who’d say Kaylen—Caleb—and I started the War. Last time I spoke to her, Karinna was among them.”
She left the room before I could ask anything more.
I shelled acorns while I kept watch over Ethan. Twice more his bandages smoldered, and I doused his hands in the water. The second time the charred bandages crumbled away. I wrapped new ones loosely around his burns. I could have called Mom up to help me, but I didn’t. How much longer did I have to fear hurting her with my questions?
How could she and Caleb possibly have caused the War?
The sun grew low as I continued shelling. I heard a soft creak on the stairs. Matthew stepped into the room with another nutcracker. I gave his hand a quick squeeze. His fingers were cold. He sat, and we shelled together.
Matthew looked toward Ethan. “How is he?”
“About the same.” I wanted to reach for Matthew’s hand again, to warm it between both of mine, but then I wouldn’t be able to work.
Matthew picked at a stubborn bit of shell. “Gram’s going to tell them about Ethan at the Council meeting tonight. She says it’s best they hear it from her.”
“Kyle probably already told his mom. She’s in a foul mood today. She’ll want to send Ethan away.”
Matthew tossed the acorn shell into the growing pile beside me. “The Council will likely be split. Gram says it’s going to be a long meeting.”
I listened to Ethan’s steady breathing as I took another acorn from the sack. If we sent him away now, he’d die in the forest and the snow.
Matthew pressed his lips together. “We won’t let them make Ethan leave. I already spoke to Hope and Seth. Charlotte, too.” Those were all the older Afters. “If this town wants to send him away, they’ll have to get past all of us first.” He looked at me, and I knew he wanted to know if I’d stand with them. He’d always stood by me, even when I’d done little to deserve it.
I hesitated, then voiced my fear aloud. “What if Ethan really is a danger to our town? We don’t even know that Ben’s death was an accident. And even if it was, it’s an accident that could happen again.”
“We’ll deal with it.” Matthew sounded very sure.
I envied his certainty. “I won’t let you stand alone, if it comes down to that.” My fingers tightened around the acorn. The Council made the rules for Franklin Falls. What would happen if we challenged them? “It’s risky.” I was shivering. I just couldn’t seem to get warm this winter. Matthew put his arm around my shoulders, and together we watched the rise and fall of Ethan’s chest.
“Nothing’s safe,” Matthew said.
I knew that better than anyone. I turned to him. Strands of blond hair fell around Matthew’s face, and his eyes were strangely bright. I shivered harder. Then, since I was already being brave, I leaned forward and brushed my lips against his.
He didn’t pull away as I’d feared. With a soft sound he drew me closer, reaching up to run his fingers through my hair. His musky taste reminded me of the smell of his wolf’s fur. The acorn in my hand pattered to the floor.
The rustling of blankets made us pull abruptly apart. Ethan sat up in bed, staring at us.
Matthew’s ears flushed red. My face burned. I wondered if Ethan could see the way the taste of Matthew’s lips lingered on mine. The boy’s eyes hardened as he focused on us. He didn’t trust us.
I didn’t fully trust him, either. “How are you feeling?”
“How do you think I feel?” Ethan huddled down among the blankets. “But at least I’m still alive, right? I ought to be grateful.” His voice was bitter, as if maybe he wished we hadn’t saved him.
Why had he come to our town if he didn’t want to be saved? “What are you doing here?” I demanded.
“Looking for someplace safe.” There was a challenge in Ethan’s words.
I couldn’t promise him safety. I didn’t try. “Where are you from?”
“Clayburn.” Ethan looked down at his hands as if seeing the bandages for the first time. His breathing sped up.
I thought of the maps I’d seen. Clayburn was one of the nearer towns, about a day’s walk away. “Was Ben from Clayburn, too?”
Ethan bolted to his feet, blankets falling away, nightshirt barely covering his knees. “How do you know about that?” He backed through the doorway and into the hall.
“Ethan!” My voice tightened around the call. I couldn’t let him go. I had to know why he was afraid, and whether his magic had truly killed, and, if it had, how likely it was to kill again. “Ethan, stop!”