The Poison Season(55)

“My mother told me. Don’t be angry. It’s good that I know. It explains some things.”

Sage bristled, ready to defend her mother, but Leelo shook her head. “I just mean I understand Aunt Ketty a little better now.”

Sage raised her eyebrows. “You do?”

“Yes. If my husband beat me, I wouldn’t love him, either. And I would probably be distrusting of other men.”

“Is that all your mother told you?” Sage asked, her tone wary.

Leelo had thought she finally knew the truth, but now she wondered if she had only scratched the surface. “Why? Is there more?”

Sage was quiet for a long moment. She put her socks and boots back on and rose. “Come on. If we hurry, we can be home in time for lunch.”

Leelo caught her hand. “Wait, Sage. Tell me the truth. Is there more?”

Sage’s expression shifted as she glanced down at Leelo’s hand. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled something out. “I made you this.”

It was a crude carving of a long-necked bird. Leelo took it, a bemused smile on her lips. “What’s this for?”

“It’s to go with the fox I made. So we each have one. It’s supposed to be a swan.”

“Why a swan?” Leelo asked. “Why not a matching fox?”

Sage released a soft puff of laughter. “Because you’re nothing like a fox, Lo. Foxes are sly, resourceful, alert.” She brought her hand up to Leelo’s face, tucking a strand of her corn silk hair behind her ear with calloused fingers. “You’re like a swan, rare and beautiful. You have so much magic in you, Leelo.”

Leelo began to smile, but Sage’s fingers slid lower, wrapping loosely around Leelo’s neck.

“But you’re so fragile, cousin. Anyone could break you. I know you think I’m too hard to feel like you do. But if I told you everything, if you knew the truth, it would shatter you like glass.”

“Sage—”

Sage’s hand slid away. “You might be as naive as those swans that land on a lake full of poison, but you’re still mine. And I’ll protect you, like I always have.”

Leelo’s confusion quickly turned to anger. “What aren’t you telling me, Sage?”

Her cousin’s hazel eyes were just like Aunt Ketty’s, giving nothing away. “Forget I said anything. Come on, I’m hungry.”

“Sage!” Leelo called after her, but she’d already disappeared into the Forest.

Leelo was certain now that she wasn’t the only one with secrets. And something told her that Sage’s were sinister. The kind that best stayed buried.



Chapter Thirty-Two


In the days that followed, Jaren’s entire world became sleeping and waiting for Leelo’s visits. Sleeping at least made the time go faster; the waiting was excruciating. He had only gone to bathe one more time, alone, and all it did was make him think of Leelo and her lips and her hair and her bare skin. He knew it was dangerous to start to care about a girl he’d almost certainly never see again, but it was also a welcome distraction from worrying about how he’d get off the island and what his family was doing in his absence. And, if he was being honest, a distraction from the way the trees surrounding him seemed to press a little closer at night, how the wind through the branches sounded like whispering voices, and when rain fell, it had a strange cadence, like a song.

But when Leelo came, Jaren forgot about all of that. He was able to coax a little more out of her each time, and he gathered those facts like a bird adding trinkets to its nest. He spent hours thinking of questions to ask her, so soon he knew her favorite color (blue), her favorite food (cake), and her least favorite chore (anything to do with hunting—they had that in common). And every time she left, he felt like she trusted him a bit more, and his odds of dying were lower.

One night, when she’d come to visit him after a late Watcher shift, she had actually collapsed next to him on the blanket instead of sitting with her back to the door.

“Sorry,” she’d said when she saw him looking down at her with a bemused grin. “I forgot this was your bed.”

“What’s mine is yours,” he’d said with a laugh. “Literally.”

If their eyes met for too long, she would grow shy and reserved, like she was remembering that she was supposed to hate him. So he never stared at her too long, though saints knew he wanted to.

Unlike his sisters, Leelo didn’t think Jaren was too brooding or boring. On the contrary, she seemed to find him interesting. He knew that was likely because he was the first person she’d ever met who didn’t live on Endla, but seeing himself through her eyes made him feel like maybe what he had to say was interesting. After all, he’d lived in two different places. He had a large, boisterous family, and he spent enough time gathering in the woods that he could identify hundreds of plant species.

Leelo was particularly curious about life in Tindervale versus life in Bricklebury. “What’s a pub?” she’d asked when he told her about the bet he’d made with Merritt.

“A place where people gather to eat and drink,” he explained.

“Like a festival?”

“I suppose a very small one. Indoors. With ale.”

She’d considered this for a while, chewing her lip, and then said, “I think I’d like to go to one. As long as there are no boys like Merritt around.”