“It’s a shame that so many people got eaten but the hypocrites remain,” I murmur.
Winter smiles, though it’s a little bit strained. “The funny thing is, I’m not sure what they think the plan is here. Do they think they’re going to mount a resistance? Most people are just getting by. It’s a grim, thankless world, everyone should find what hope they can, for as long as they can, and ... I don’t know. Seems kind of stupid to act like humans are the only ones around. We should cast a wider net. Maybe figure out how to make friends with the things that want to eat us.”
This is so close to what I was just thinking that I wonder, not for the first time, if her oracle deal comes with a side of mind reading.
“It’s a solid plan,” I tell her. “Nobody likes eating an animal they know.”
She wrinkles up her nose. “That’s true. Also it’s gross.”
When I laugh, I draw the attention of some humans passing by—and they don’t look any happier to see me than they are to see Winter. Then again, I’ve known Tim Buckley and Izzy Collins since kindergarten. I never liked them much myself.
“Hey, guys,” I say in my cheeriest voice. “Hope you’re having a Merry Christmas.”
I can tell that Tim, at least, would love nothing more than to curse me out. But he apparently thinks better of that, or is worried about the parameters of the safe zone we’re standing in.
“Maddox,” he mutters. “Winter.”
Winter only stares at him.
Beside him, Izzy looks flustered. “Is it true?” she asks Winter in a low voice. “Have you really—I meandoyou really—I mean ...Ariel Skinner?”
“He’s a vampire,” Tim barks at her.
Izzy makes a face at him. “I don’t care what he is. Have youseenhim? My God.”
After Tim pulls her away, both Winter and I are a whole lot more smiley.
“Heishot,” Winter says, very gravely. Getting only slightly red in the face as she speaks. “It’s undeniable.”
“Facts,” I agree.
She sighs a little, then visibly collects herself. “I didn’t actually stop to talk about villagers with pitchforks or Ariel’s many charms, although I could.” She fixes that indigo gaze of hers on me. I know instantly that this is oracle shit. “I had another dream about you.”
“Then we have to start thinking critically about the fact that there’s only one topic you seem muddy about.” I search her face. “Right?”
“We know there’s a muddy mess,” she returns, evenly. “We might think it’s about a certain topic, but maybe it’s about a number of topics. I have no way of knowing.”
“That sounds very scientific.” I shrug. “I’ll continue thinking that it’s Vinca. Because if she could, she would. With a literal vengeance.”
“This dream about you was different,” Winter says, clearly not interested in talking aboutmuddiness. “When Vinca was planning that ritual on Mount McLoughlin, it was always the same vision, over and over, but grosser and bloodier and scarier each time. I don’t know if that’s because it was specifically aimed at me or if yours is changing because you’re changing things.” She looks down for a moment. “I miss Gran. She would know.”
Winter’s grandmother was a good lady. I reach over and put my hand on Winter’s arm. I don’t say anything, because there’s nothing to say. We were all there. We all watched the old oracle die. We watched her go out like a badass, the way she lived, but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s gone.
“Anyway,” Winter says after a moment, her voice sounding thicker than before. “It wasn’t in that same space, those rocks and fires. It was somewhere darker. I want to say a cave?” She’s looking in my direction, but she has that faraway look in her eyes. Whatever she’s seeing, it’s not me. “This time, that same wolf was walking towards you. I thought he shifted, but I couldn’t quite see his face. There was a shadow. I can’t tell if it was an actual shadow or if that part of the vision was just fuzzy.” Her gaze clears. Sharpens. “What I do know is that he hates you.”
I feel something cold inch down my spine. I repress a full-body shudder, and it’s a lot harder than I want it to be.
“Good news,” I say lightly. “I’m used to that.”
Winter, I’ve noticed, doesn’t like to argue with people when she knows they’re wrong. When I think about the house she grew up in, and what I know of the things that happened there, I assume that this is trauma based, like everything else that makes us all ... us. In any case, I’m grateful. At the moment I don’t particularly feel like being called out, thank you.
“Meanwhile,” Winter goes on as if it’s not clear to both of us that I’m pretending not to be a little freaked out that her visions are focusedon me but nothing else, her voice lowering, “Savi is reporting a serious uptick in the size and number of sacrifices. Ariel says that the ones around the house match hers, but he still won’t let me see them.”
“He’s protecting you.” I can’t help but smile. “That’s so cute.”
“I was literally in the middle of a cruel and bloody sacrifice on the side of Mount McLoughlin in October, during which I was supposed to die by the way, and managed not to throw up or cry,” Winter reminds me. “I’ve also lived this long despite the Reveal. I don’t think a dead animal is going to kill me.”
“Or maybe,” I say quietly, “you have enough scary shit in your head. You don’t need more.”
