Although daylight is creeping in, it has the look of another dull day, and all the lamps are lit.
It is hard to reconcile what happened last night, now, in the light of day. Enclosed here, one might think it never happened at all.
I add honey to my tea and stir it for an overly long time.
“Where did you go?” I ask. “Last eve?”
“I called them,” she says, lifting her eyes from her tea and meeting mine.
“The shifters?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Her lips tighten. “That is not something spoken of. But always there has been one woman in Merrywood who bears the mantle of summoning the beasts. When the last woman died, I took on the role. Still, it is different for me…”
“I don’t understand any of this,” I say. “You said Pippa had nothing between her ears, and it was a fanciful tale about themtaking lasses. Then you gave me the charm, and…” My eyes bounce nervously around the room as my words tumble out, but now they lift to meet hers. “I did not have the charm.” There, my truth is out. “I had put it in my dress pocket. It was still there when I fled to the woods.”
I swallow, lift the charm from my pocket, and place it on the table between us.
She leans back, almost like she is moving away from the charm. “I already knew as much.”
Well, that clears that up… Still, I dare say the scores on my door were a bit of a giveaway.
“What do the marks on my door mean?”
“They have claimed what is inside.” She hesitates, glancing toward the window.
“They?”
“They never hunt alone.” Her eyes meet mine. “A triad is the usual configuration, but sometimes it is two, and sometimes it is more. Very occasionally, one.”
My fingers go to my throat and the tingling there.
Her eyes narrow. “Gods, child. He touched you. You said he had not!”
It is not a question. I nod anyway. Besides which, we have already established that I did not mention the lack of charm… I cannot meet her gaze any longer.
“My dearest Evanthe,” she says at length. “There is no changing what is done.”
“And what is done?” I demand. “Why did you not warn me? Why not say it plainly?”
“I gave you a charm. Were my instructions confusing when I told you to put it on and never take it off?” Her face softens as she sees my mounting distress. “Sweet lass. Call it fate, the Goddess at work—call it what you will. They have chosen you. When they’re ready, they will claim.”
“And… w-when might that be?”
“Days, months—it’s been known to take longer still. I recall a young woman of eighteen summers being marked, and they did not return for her for two more years. Everyone thought they had forgotten, but wolves never forget.”
The ticking of the clock is loud in the silence that follows. My eyes turn toward it.
“Clocks create thresholds,” she says.
“Against wolves?” I ask, confused—for they entered my room; I am sure they did.
“No, my dear.” She pauses, seeming to wrestle with whether or not to elaborate. “There are worse things than wolves out there. But none of that is a worry for you now. Nothing—alive, dead, or that lingers between—is foolish enough to come between a wolf and his claim.”
Chapter Four
