Sometimes he wondered if the authorities had caught Creek because the teachers were watching their class more closely after the tomato incident.The guilt was old and well-worn.
“I can protect him without taking away his freedom,” Leander said quietly.
“Druwolf will kill you both.”
Leander snorted.“He plans to anyway.”
Creek moved closer, a frown creasing two vertical lines into his forehead.“You learned something.”
“I just stopped denying something,” Leander said wearily.
“I can protect you.A plant mage...you could have a beautiful garden so far away from here that Druwolf would never find you.”
“I’d be locked in a garden prison,” Leander corrected him.They’d always had honesty between them, just like they’d held each other’s secrets, even after Creek had started working for the police.The government suspected Leander had magic, but they didn’t have evidence because Creek had never revealed the truth.Perhaps it was some nostalgia for a time when those secrets had been easier to keep that made him say, “Escape with us.”
Creek sucked in a breath and stepped back.“You can’t be serious.”
“Why not?”Leander studied Creek.“You always wanted to be free, to travel, to see the world.”
“To be a tourist in the world, not a fugitive always one step ahead of arrest.”
“They won’t find us.Between the two of us, we could protect Salem and ourselves.”A clawing, desperate hope rose from the pit of Leander’s soul.
Creek stepped back.“That’s fine for you.If you’re caught, it’s your first strike.You’ll get to choose a government job and get government training.If I’m caught...”Creek swallowed.
Leander’s laugh was dark and lacked any humor.“You’re an idiot if you think they would show me mercy.I’m not a sixteen-year-old kid turned in by a teacher before even learning to use his powers.They know what I am.They have spent ten years trying to catch me.Even if I voluntarily surrender, I won’t have a life worth living.”
“But you’ll live.If you run...”Creek’s expression darkened.
“We won’t get caught,” Leander promised.“We could chase some of those dreams we had when we were young.”
“Go,” Creek said, his voice strained.“If you’re going to take Salem, do it and leave.I’ll tell them I saw nothing, but you can’t ask me to take that risk.”He steppe d back again, and the tiny hope blossoming in Leander’s chest died.He clung to the threads of healing magic from the tree as something in his soul broke.But magic couldn’t fix souls or change the past.
With a nod toward Creek, Leander moved to the side of the house.He’d been at Tecca’s place once, and so he could guess where Salem’s room was.He took a seed from his pocket and pressed it into the space between the window and the sill, and then he pushed.The seed sprouted and grew.Leaves stretched into the air seeking sun and finding Leander’s magic.It pushed harder, straining the window lock.The tiny oak developed a trunk and fought for space until the sash groaned and then opened with a sharp snap.
Leander slipped into the dim room.He had guessed wrong.The room was bare—white walls and gray bedspread—nothing childlike.This was Tecca’s room, the one she and Finn had once shared.He felt dirty being in here.He’d loved Finn, yet he’d cursed him, both to his face and behind his back.Being in this room reminded him of the years he’d lost because he’d rejected Finn’s offer of friendship.If he couldn’t have all of Finn, he refused any part.He’d been the greatest fool ever to walk the earth.
He tiptoed out of the master suite and into the hall, where he heard a reality television show playing.He moved in the opposite direction.There were certificates pinned to the wallpaper: first year karate, perfect attendance, fourth place science fair.Leander moved to the next door, a bathroom, and then the third.He stopped.There was a lump in the middle of a twin bed, blue sheets wrapped around his sleeping form.
Leander stepped into the dim room, the streetlight filtering in through the curtains.“Salem,” he whispered.He moved toward the bed.“Salem.”He touched his shoulder, and the boy sprang up, dull school scissors in hand as if he could defend himself against a grown man with them.
“Peace,” Leander murmured, grateful the boy hadn’t made a noise.He admired Salem’s survival instincts, even if this was inconvenient for him.
“Mr.Moore?”Salem asked, confusion coloring his tone.
“Yes.I was a friend of your parents.”Of course, Salem knew that.He wouldn’t have known Leander’s name if he hadn’t known that.Seeing Creek had thrown him.
“Mother told me,” Salem whispered, and the arm with the scissors lowered slowly.“Why are you here?”
“We need to leave.”Leander considered how to explain the danger in terms appropriate for a child.He’d never been around children, and now that he faced one, he didn’t know where to start.They weren’t like plants, which sent threads of magic out into the world to show what they excelled at or what they needed.
“Is the monster here?”His voice trembled, and he clutched his scissors more tightly.
“It’s coming soon,” Leander said, and in some definition of monster, he was telling the truth.“We need to leave.Do you have anything you can’t leave behind?Anything you would want to carry away even if a monster was chasing you?”Hopefully, the last would prevent the child from trying to pack his entire wardrobe.
Salem slid out of bed and went to his desk.He pulled out a book and a small box before turning back to Leander, ready to leave.The warning had worked too well if the child would leave everything else behind.There was a stuffed bat with worn wings tangled in his sheets, and Leander picked it up.“Get dressed quietly—something warm.I’ll put a few clothes into your backpack.”
Salem took the bat cautiously, as though expecting Leander to rip it away.As much as Leander wanted to take offense, the child didn’t know him, and he had recently lost his mother.He should suspect unfamiliar adults; Leander could only hope he remained quiet as he clutched his bat to his chest.Leander slid drawers open as softly as possible, grabbing underwear and pants while Salem slipped into clothes from the floor.
