“Riazs, return to your home with thanks,” said another man, his voice pitched higher than Law’s.
Instantly the mud creature dissolved into the ground until there was nothing left of it.
Mal looked at the man with Law. Only he wasn’t a man. Not exactly. He had all the right parts: arms, legs, head, chest, and so on. He also had a pair of spiraling horns growing out of the riot of russet hair that fell down his back in a thick curtain. His smooth skin was dark—a mix of green, gray, and brown, like tree bark. His eyes were a brilliant green, like lush grass. He wore something that looked sort of like pants and sort of like nothing at all.
Law pushed around his companion and came to stand beside her. He was carrying Elliot, who was asleep in his arms.
“We found the kids, thanks to Tazho and Elliot. The Leshiy family decided to stay in the woods for now.”
Mal wanted to ask just who Tazho was, but it wasn’t particularly important right now. She glanced over to where LeeAnne had stopped beside the wildwood denizen. Despite the fact that her clothes looked pristine—she was still wearing heels and walking easily in them—her mouth and eyes were tense, and her eyes were the color of pansies. She’d gone from pissed to livid in the past few hours.
“Did you find out who took them?” Mal asked.
“Let’s talk about that later,” Law said. He looked at Tazho. “Thank you for your help. Should you need or want anything, you have only to call my name. I will hear.”
“You are welcome anywhere in all of Effrayant at any time,” LeeAnne said. “Say my name, I will come.”
Mal glanced between all three. Something big appeared to have gone down. Blood-bound supernaturals like LeeAnne and Law didn’t commit their help or friendship like that without a serious reason. It could conflict with their oaths. She took in the dirt smearing Law’s clothing and the scrapes hashing his hands and face. His shirt and pants were torn in places and stained with a dark substance. Splotches of what appeared to be blood liberally dotted his clothing.
“Let’s go.” Law nodded to Tazho and stepped over the mushroom line.
LeeAnne followed. Mal hesitated.
“Nice meeting you,” she said finally with a little wave and started to turn, stopped, and turned back. “You haven’t seen some ghosts, have you? They came to help look for the missing kids.”
Tazho’s mouth curved into a smile, revealing dimples and white teeth. “They are here.”
He held up a stem. It held what appeared to be the green outer leaves of a flower. In the center, though, was a drop of pearly water. Mal’s eyes narrowed and she stepped forward. The pearl color came from the ghosts.
“Why?” She demanded, not bothering to hide her anger.
“It protects them.” He waved a hand at their surroundings. “The wood is a strange place, and their kind can become… food.”
The relief that swept through Mal made her throat swell and her eyes burn. “Thank you for protecting them.”
He tipped his head. “They are important?” His voice lilted upward in a question.
“They are my friends.” She paused then shook her head. “They are my family.”
His smile widened. “Those who find ties of the soul among outside their kind are much to be admired and envied.”
“How do I free them?”
“In the dawn the flower will bloom.”
An awkward silence fell between them as he looked at her but did not hand her the flower. Did she need to bargain for it?
He stepped closer until he nearly touched her. She smelled the sweetness of flowers and the warmth of green life and fertile soil. It was a heady scent made her dizzy, like she’d downed half a bottle of champagne.
He reached up and pulled a delicate wisteria blossom from her hair.
“I will take this in exchange.”
He held up the ghost flower with his other hand. The moment was strangely intimate but not sexual. It was more holy, if Mal had to choose a word. Sacred. Like encountering a wild creature who chose to trust you. She felt a certain joy that came from the wonder.
“Thank you,” she said.
“You are welcome here,” he said. He tipped his head, looking up at the canopy. “You have a foot in this world as you have one in the other. Never fear the wildwood.”
