“I know what you are,” she declared.
Indigo raised one eyebrow. She had layered a white nightgown under a long, black fur coat. I was wearing a white leather trench and a long-sleeved black velvet dress that once belonged to Indigo’s mom. We had split an apple between us, which I happily snacked on while reading Charles Perrault’s book of fairy tales. Beside me, Indigo sketched. I knew better than to look at her drawings. Even the soul holds its secret caverns, and for us it was her art and my books.
“You know what we are?” Indigo said without looking up. “And what might that be?”
I eyed Puck curiously. She didn’t seem like the type to stop by our table and mutter something unkind just for fun.
“Witches,” she said, hushed. “Or... I dunno, fairy girls or something. I know you’re not human.”
My skin tingled. Indigo put down her pencil. The corner of her mouth quirked in a smile.
Nobody had ever said that to us before. There were rumors, of course, and they teased that we weren’t human, but no one believed it. Puck was different.
Puck believed.
“I want to be like you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Across the table, I felt a new heat rising off Indigo’s skin. I almost grabbed Puck’s hand. I almost told her to run. But one look at Puck’s face, and I knew it wouldn’t have made a difference.
Puck couldn’t see us, not really. She saw only the blur ofpower, a shimmer that perhaps she imagined might feel like December sunshine on her skin.
“Sit with us,” said Indigo imperiously.
Puck sat. She reached into her satchel for her bagged lunch. Indigo shook her head.
“We don’t eat here.”
“Sorry.” Puck seemed ashamed. She folded her hands in her lap and looked down. “I won’t do it again.”
The deference in her voice made my stomach curl. But where I was embarrassed for her, Indigo was intrigued. She reached across the table, touched the ends of Puck’s hair.
“Now your name is Puck, and you belong to us. Okay?”
“Okay,” repeated Puck.
“Normally, you’d have to sign your name in blood to make the bond true,” said Indigo.
I shot her a warning glance, but Indigo wasn’t looking at me.
“Do you have something sharp with you?” asked Indigo.
Puck blushed again and shook her head.
“That’s okay,” said Indigo sweetly. “Come to the House after school and you can do it there. You know where it is, don’t you?”
“Everyone knows where it is,” said Puck, awed.
Indigo smiled again and I figured she had just wanted to hear it out loud.
“We’ll see you there.”
Dismissed, Puck gathered her things and stood. I felt a rush of relief that she was going. Maybe now I could talk Indigo out of whatever she was planning. Indigo wasn’t finished though.
“Being like us means making sacrifices,” said Indigo. “If you’re serious about this then you cannot speak to a single human being for the rest of the day, Puck.”
Puck froze. “I-I have a presentation to give in fifth period . . . but I promise I won’t say anything else? Unless I’m called on or something?”
Indigo looked at her sharply. “Creatures of the Otherworld love loopholes. They love cleverness. If you can’t make this sacrifice, then you’re wasting our time.”
