It meant he wasn’t dead. And that the Jerks didn’t have him.
But at the same time, something bad was very obviously going on. Something that meant flying to him as soon as she could. So she made sure the microwave was all right and back in its place on the countertop. And she whipped up a general tidying potion to sort some of the wreckage that was her house. And finally, for good measure, she set a protection spell around everything. Just a quick Repel You If You Come Near type of thing, that probably wouldn’t hold.
But it was enough.
Then she grabbed some werewolf killer, just in case, and the still slightly busted but usable Hoover, and she went for it. She tried to fly, across her yard. At first with one foot still sort of on the ground, kind of propelling her forward and keeping her anchored—like a kid on a skateboard. But then with more confidence.
She picked up a bit of speed. Wobbled, but managed to right it.
Went a little high again, and somehow got it under control.
And suddenly she just felt it, instinctively. It came over her in a great wave—how to sort of pull to make it slow, and tilt to make it go in the direction she wanted to. What to do when it wasn’t going fast enough, so the speed increased.
You had to kind of urge it with both feet.
Like the Hoover was some kind of very oddly shaped horse.
And when she got that, and acted accordingly, the whole thingsimply surged forward. It darted between the trees, fast enough that she came fairly close to crashing. An oak was suddenly in her face, and she had to bank hard to the right. But even that seemed to come easier.
Everything was suddenly easier.
She wove between branches, and swooped over fallen logs.
Went higher on purpose, just to see if she could. Then she plunged back down, so steeply it almost made her feel sick. Suddenly, her stomach was in her throat. She went to scream and couldn’t, because every bit of air in her was abruptly somewhere else. Though she wasn’t entirely sure that was a bad thing.
It felt pretty incredible.
She found herself laughing over it giddily.
But it was when she reached the hunting lodge that the truly astonishing thing happened.
She saw the building looming up from between the trees. And instead of carefully coming to a stop, she swooped down. She made a staggeringly steep arc, all the way across the scrubby yard in front of the place. And while the Hoover was still in motion, she simply climbed off.
Only “climbed off” was probably the wrong way to put it.
It was more like she sprang off in a graceful leap, like she floated, like for onceherswere the feet that had wheels. She didn’t even stop when she touched the ground. She strode toward the house, Seth’s name on her lips.
But before she could get there, his voice stopped her.
“I can’t come out right now,” he said.
And that was good, because it meant he was alive.
But it was also bad, because why the hell did he need to stay inside?
“Seth, if you’re injured so much that you don’t want me to see, you really should,” she tried. Yet still, he didn’t emerge. There was the sound of shuffling, and maybe sighing, and then finally he answered.
“I’m not that injured. In fact, I’m totally fine. So you can go now.”
So you can go now?she thought, incredulously. Then had to insist.
“Think I’m gonna need a little more proof-of-life type stuff there, buddy.”
“Honestly, I’m alive. And I’m gonna stay alive.”
“That sounds exactly like the kind of thing someone whoisn’tgoing to stay alive would say.”
Silence then. A long, long silence.
