Autumn Storm (The Witchling #2)(48)

“Sam!” she called.

With brambles, downed logs, snow, tree roots and many other hazards, she needed her cane in the woods. She’d done well without it for a good six hours a day the past few days.

“Fine,” she muttered. “No one else is talking to me either.” She sat on a tree stump and watched the snow. She’d seen Beck at breakfast two days in a row. Aside from a friendly smile, he’d ignored her and been completely enamored with Tanya. Even Adam and Jenna were too absorbed with one another to talk to her, and Biji left the day before. Decker she hadn’t seen since their walk Monday.

She’d heard the rumors, though, the ones that said he’d started slaughtering Light Witchlings. Troubled, Autumn sought to figure out what she was missing, why she felt the way she did about him when he was doing things everyone agreed were very, very wrong.

“I’m not leaving until I find you, Sam!” she shouted into the forest.

Very well, child. His voice entered her mind.

Autumn looked around, waiting for him to appear. Instead, the trees bent away from the path he wanted her to take. It led deeper into the forest. She limped along the trail until it led her to a massive tree stump perched against a hill. Air swept away the snow from the dark entrance of the stump.

With some anxiety, Autumn stepped into the stump, surprised to find it held a cozy dwelling. Sam sat near a small fire, two mugs of steaming liquid beside him. She sat near him, and he handed her a mug. Sighing at its warmth, she sipped the cider within.

“I can’t see you going to the grocery store,” she said, peering into the cup.

The Turners bring us treats.

“What do you normally eat? Like, plants?”

Sam grinned. She cringed at the look. We eat what we can catch and cook.

“Animals, small children?”

He shook his head, amused.

“Can I bring you a plate of turkey tomorrow? It’s a holiday for us.”

If you wish it.

“Okay.” She studied her cider. “I’ve been working with my magick every day. It’s getting easier. Air is a little hard to work with sometimes. It wants to do its own thing.”

It’s the most independent of them. When harnessed, it’s very powerful.

“Can it … project things? Like, the earth put pictures in my head. Does the air show me its memories in a different way?”

Air connects the conscious and subconscious, mind and emotion. It can project images or compel you through feelings.

“I thought so.” She fell quiet, troubled. The dancing clouds in the clearing were memories from the air. Was the dark-haired ghost she’d followed to Miner’s Drop also a memory?

What troubles you?

“A lot,” she said with a deep sigh. “Stupid things like …boys.”

The Turner twins cause much heartache. He chuckled.

Autumn’s face felt warm. Sam was either reading her mind or knew enough about the twins to understand the effect they had on every girl they crossed.

“Beck was so sweet at first but now is flat-out ignoring me and Decker…” she trailed off. There really wasn’t any way to describe Decker or her confusion about him. “He’s unpredictable. I guess because his elements are?”

Partially. Decker is a wounded animal.

“That’s exactly it. He lashes out even when I try to help him. I’ve pieced together what happened to make him like that. No one will tell me everything, but I know he pushed his girlfriend into Miner’s Drop and he can’t get over her. Except sometimes, I don’t think that’s what happened,” she said, pensive. “He hurts too much to do that to someone he loved.”

He is not all …himself.

“Yeah, I noticed that, too.” She shivered. “Maybe that thing pushed her, and he didn’t know.” The explanation still didn’t sit well with her. She’d been able to bring him back with a touch.

Sam was quiet.

“I wish the elements could just talk,” she said in frustration. “Do they communicate with you the same way?”

Yes. It is their way. With enough time, you learn to understand most of what they tell you. There are always secrets but - he shrugged - they are no different than humans in that way.

“I guess. Sam, Decker told me he kills witchlings. But when we’re together, it’s like I belong” she sighed, hating the words “to him. I can’t say I belong with him, because it’s something more than that. It makes me not mind the things he does. And that’s wrong, because he hurts people. Does that make sense?”

It does.

“Does that make me a bad person?”

No, child. His voice was gentle.

“I feel like it does. What he’s doing is wrong. Me accepting it makes me wrong, too,” she said uncertainly. “But when we’re together, all of that goes out the window. I don’t know what to think. Or feel. Or do.”

What you do, if you could act without limitations?

“I’d fix him.”

I’m not certain he can be fixed. He has chosen to become what he’s becoming.

“You’ll tell me the same thing everyone else does, won’t you?” She rolled her eyes at him. “There are no second chances when you make a bad choice.”

It’s a sensitive subject. His words were accompanied by a laugh that left her shaking her head at what he found funny.