“Are you alright?” The blond-haired boy, Kaelan, walked toward me, leading his chunky gray horse.
“Other than my poor dress getting ruined, I’m good.” I spun around. “How bad does the back look? Do you think it’s salvageable?”
He tilted his head as a chuckle tumbled out of him. “There is quite a bit of mud, I’m sorry to say.”
“Damn.” I scrubbed at my butt more rigorously, but most of the dirt had already settled into the fabric. “Seems silly to be worried about a dress, huh?” I huffed. The kid probably thought I’d lost my marbles. Or maybe he thought I’d never had them to begin with. (Sometimes I questioned that myself). “I mean, you guys fight monsters and are holding this world together with duct tape, and I’m worried about a $25 dress. It’s pretty damn stupid, right?”
Kaelan’s eyes were kind as he surveyed me. “The dress is from your home. There’s no shame in being attached to it.”
I sighed, my fingers curling around the edge of the skirt. There was a hole by my left hip. Probably from when the Wraith had nabbed me earlier. “It’s not just that, it’s…” I had this feeling in my throat; like I’d gulped down too much food.
The first time I sawThe Nightmare Before Christmas,I’d been six. And on enough meds to take down a horse. After what happened to my parents…I had issues. Like night terrors, explosive anger, excessive word vomiting, and anxiety out the wazoo.
My first foster mother, Freda, took me in, even though she already had two foster kids. She used to say she liked‘my spark.’But I was a major problem. I threw daily temper tantrums and sometimes scared the other kids. Rather than beating me into obedience like…well, some of the others, Freda seemed to understand why I lashed out. And she made it her mission to help me reach a better headspace.
On a muggy October afternoon, six months after I arrived at her house, she’d popped theNightmare Before Christmason the TV and watched it with me. While also letting me eat a big-ass bowl of cookie dough ice cream for dinner. The other kids had been at after-school events, so I’d had Freda all to myself.
It’d been the best day ever. At least for kid me. It was the first time I’d fully relaxed in over a year.
And Freda lovedThe Nightmare Before Christmas. She watched it non-stop in October, November, and December. She hummedThis is Halloweenwhenever she cleaned. Her favorite cardigan featured Jack Skellington, Zero, and Oogie Boogie. And a red-suited Jack perched atop our Christmas tree every year.
Her obsession eventually became mine.
God, I had loved her.
But the people we loved the most usually didn’t stick around.
“It must hold a special place in your heart,” Kaelan said. His soft voice made me jump.
“It does.” I smoothed my hands over the grime-coated dress, blinking back tears. “So,” I cleared my throat, “what’s with the pit stop? Iwantto take a breather. Trust me. But if it’s only four hours, why bother? We’ll get to wherever we’re going a lot faster if we keep moving. Right?”
“The horses need rest. So you’ll need to take Sacrifice’s saddle off. I’ll help!” he beamed at me, grasped Sacrifice’s bit, and led her to a cluster of trees. “Cheriour said you’ve never untacked a horse before.” He secured the animals to a low-hanging tree limb, keeping a sizable distance between Sacrifice and his horse.
My arms ached just looking at the clunky leather saddle. And the half dozen or so saddle bags. “I’ve gotta take that all off?”
“It’s not so bad,” Kaelan chuckled. “I’ll show you. Once we’re done, make sure you rest too,” he continued. “Niall is still a several days’ ride from here.”
“Sev—you meanhours, right? Severalhours?”
“Days,” he repeated.
Exhaustion hit my bones like a battering ram.Days?One afternoon of bumping around the woods on horseback had been brutal enough. I had to do this fordays?
And there was another problem, which presented itself after Kaelan helped me heft the two-ton saddle off Sacrifice’s back.
“Aw crap,” I groaned as a twinge shot through my bladder. “I’m gonna guess there're no toilets out here, right? Porta potties? Anything?”
Kaelan’s blank look was all the answer I needed.
Wonderful.Great.I’d always wanted to take a piss out in the woods while surrounded by hundreds of strangers.
I hated this fucking place.
* * *
Sleeping wasout of the question.
On a good night, it would’ve taken me an hour to drift off. At least. Shutting my brain down was a slow process.
