I ducked around families with overstimulated, sticky-faced toddlers in strollers, and groups of tourists in masks and gaudy witch hats. I could smell booze and incense and greasy street fair food, all wrapped in the constant pungent scent of smoke from the torches, and it made my head spin. Laughter and shouts and music and the constant discordant jangling of bells assaulted my ears from every direction, disorienting me. I suddenly found I couldn’t stand to be in the crowd another moment. I stumbled through a sudden gap in the crush of bodies, only to find myself on the edge of a circle that had formed around a secondary pair of street performers.
I was momentarily blinded, throwing my hands up in front of my face in terror until I realized what I was looking at:they were juggling flaming torches, faster and faster, so that the individual flames became glowing circles suspended in the air. I stared in frozen wonder, my eyes dazzled for a moment before my adrenaline surged again, reminding me why I was running in the first place; and I took off again across the circle, skirting the performers who called out in alarm that I’d gotten too close. People were shouting at me, but I couldn’t care. I had to get to Bea. Perhaps the terror was as clear on my face as it was in my head, because the people who made up the opposite wall of the crowd hastily jumped out of my way, parting like the sea at my frenzied approach.
Once I’d emerged from the other side of the wall of people, I stared around again, wildly scanning the street for any sign of her—of him. Was it possible I was the only person who had seen him? Bea certainly had. But why would she go with him? Didn’t she know what he was? But then I thought of Eva, of how overprotective she was.
Bea’s a good kid but she scares easily. I don’t need her crawling into my bed with nightmares for the next week.
What could possibly be more nightmare-inducing than The Gray Man—the Darkness itself? Whatever sanitized details Eva and her family had chosen to share with Bea, the Gray Man certainly could not have been among them. Bea had no idea whose hand she had just taken, and somehow, that made it all immeasurably worse. As I ran, dodging, pushing, and weaving to find a clear path out of the festival, I feared I would lose them entirely and then… I shuddered, refusing to allow my brain to complete the thought. I didn’t know what the Darkness wanted with Bea, but I knew that whatever it was, it wasn’t good. I plunged heedlessly onward.
How could such a tiny town hold so many people? They seemed to have multiplied now that I had to fight my way through them. Desperate not to lose Bea, I climbed awkwardlyup onto the base of a street lamp so that I could see over the seething mass of people, my eyes scanning the darkness for some sign of them. At last, I spotted them disappearing around a corner from Main Street down one of the side streets that would, I knew, lead them down along the harbor. Dread flooded through me as I watched Bea’s tiny form slip out of sight. I couldn’t let the Gray Man take her anywhere near the ocean. What if he tried to walk into the water with her, to steal her, like he had with me? The very thought felt like a punch to the gut, causing what little breath I’d managed to maintain while running to huff out of me. My head spun as I jumped down off the lamppost, and I had to grip a stranger’s arm to right myself before mumbling a half-apology, and tearing off down the street again.
The worst part, as I weaved and dodged and tripped through the crowd, was that I couldn’t shout out for help. What could I say that anyone would believe? And if they did believe it, that in itself would present a new kind of danger—a danger to the carefully hidden secrets of Sedgwick Cove, and the families who lived there. I could be putting even more people I loved in harm’s way by calling out, but by keeping silent, I might be making it possible for the Gray Man to… my mind wouldn’t let me finish that thought. If I allowed myself to imagine what Bea’s fate might be, I would lose what little grip I had left on my self-control.
At last, with a grunt of effort on my part, and a chorus of annoyed shouts and dirty looks from those around me, I managed to force my way through the rest of the crowd. I broke into a real run as I darted around the straggling groups on the outskirts, which became fewer and fewer the further I got from the pageant stage. I skidded to a stop at the corner where Bea and the Gray Man had turned and paused a moment, both to ease the burning cramp in my side, and to peer cautiously downthe street from a concealed spot behind a clump of bushes. I could no longer see either of them. I stared wildly around for the street sign, and saw that it was Hydrangea Street—this was definitely the road they’d taken, but how had they traversed it so quickly? Had the Gray Man used some kind of magic to transport Bea more quickly? But he shouldn’t be able to access that kind of magic. The Covenant was designed to prevent that—so how was this even happening? It ought to have been impossible.
But I knew what I saw. And I also knew that the word impossible likely didn’t apply in a place like Sedgwick Cove.
Suddenly, a figure came out from between two of the houses on the lefthand side of the street, loping with an easy stride, hands in pockets. A cheerful whistle drifted up the street. As I watched, wondering if I should hide from the figure, it passed under a pool of light from a streetlamp, and recognition hit me like a slap to the face.
“Luca!”
His name burst from my mouth before I had even decided whether I should call attention to myself or not. He looked up, startled, and then spotted me. His face broke into that slow, broad smile, and he waved a hand.
“Hey, Wren! What’s going on?”
How could I even begin to answer that question? I replied with one of my own instead.
“What are you doing here?”
Luca gave me a strange look. “I thought I’d come down and check out the festival after hearing you all talk about it so much.”
Oh right. The festival. The event of the year had turned into little more than an obstacle in my path, as I’d fought my way through it to find Bea.
“You know, I’m pretty sure you’re going the wrong way if that’s where you’re headed, too,” Luca said, his smile tentative as he nodded his chin toward the main road I’d just come from.
“Oh, yeah. I mean… no, I was already there. Listen, did you see a little girl and a… um, well, a taller person… come down this street just now?” I asked, stumbling over the words as I struggled to make them sound even slightly normal.
Luca frowned at the obvious tension in my voice. “Hey, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I gasped, though I knew I sounded anything but. “I need to know if you’ve seen?—”
“I did see a little girl come down this way, but she was by herself,” Luca said, and I could see a bit of my own tension reflected in his face now. “Why?”
I hesitated. It had to have been Bea—it was too much of a coincidence. Had the Gray Man still been with her? Was it possible that Bea could see the Gray Man, but Luca couldn’t? Maybe he was only visible to witches? I didn’t have the time to work out the details.
“It’s my friend’s little sister. We can’t find her, and?—”
“She looked like she was maybe eight? Braided hair with beads?” Luca said.
“That’s her! Did you see which way she went?” I said.
“Yeah, she turned left down at the end there,” Luca said.
“Thanks,” I cried, and took off in the direction he’d pointed.
“Wait! I’ll help you look!” Luca said, and started jogging after me.
“No, you don’t have to do that. Go enjoy the festival,” I called over my shoulder, but he ignored that.
