Masquerade (Creepy Hollow, #4), Page 3

  He drops beside me. “I’m a faerie; I can get over anything.”

  I roll my eyes. “Not because of the height, you idiot. Because it’s protected by magic. Can’t you feel it?”

  “I’m a guardian; I fight magic all the time. A single wall isn’t going to hold me back.” He walks over and kicks the wall with the edge of his boot. Very mature. It probably doesn’t even occur to him to wonder why a human home would be surrounded by a wall of magic.

  “Fine. All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t make a stupid and potentially life-threatening mistake just because you’re desperate to get to your sister.”

  “Whatever.” He steps back and looks up, his eyes scanning the trees. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

  “Of course not. What could I possibly know about wanting to save family members?”

  He looks at me over his shoulder. “Just get out of here before you cause me to lose another sibling.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said GO! I don’t need your help anymore.”

  Sometimes I wonder if I’ve imagined the intensity of Ryn’s hatred for me. I tell myself that he began to dislike everyone equally after his brother died. That there’s nothing special about me. But no. The venom in his eyes tells me otherwise. It’s a wonder I’m not poisoned just by meeting his gaze.

  I should leave. He doesn’t need my help now that we’ve found the house, and I don’t want to spend any more time around him than I already have. I want to go home. I have more important things to grieve than a friendship that disappeared years ago. But I’m tired of not understanding. I fold my arms tightly across my chest. “Tell me.”

  “Tell you what?” he spits, turning to face me.

  “Why you hate me.”

  The expression on his face is incredulous. “Are you serious?”

  “What? Am I supposed to know without you telling me?”

  “Just get out of here, Violet.”

  I can’t help it. My hands connect with his shoulders, pushing him hard. “What did I do to you, Ryn? WHAT?”

  He reacts instantly, shoving me so hard I fall backward onto the ground. “YOU TOOK HIM AWAY FROM ME!”

  I scramble up, furious and yet fighting the instinct to reach for a weapon. “What are you talking about?”

  “The only reason—the only reason—Reed was on the Tip-Top Path that day was because he visited you. He had to give you some stupid box that was apparently more important than staying to welcome our father home after two months of an undercover assignment. He said you needed it urgently and that the two of you would come back as soon as he’d given it to you. That you’d come together on the Tip-Top Path because it’s quicker than walking along the ground. But you didn’t come back with him, did you, Violet? Oh no.” Ryn points at me. “You let him go off on that dangerous path all by himself. That path we all knew we weren’t supposed to travel on alone. So while I was promising my father that his other son would be home to see him soon, Reed was slipping, with no one to help him, and falling to his death! And that is why I hate you—because if it weren’t for you he’d still be here.”

  If it weren’t for you he’d still be here.

  Ryn’s face swims before me. Anger and confusion stick in my throat and make it hard to speak. “What box? I didn’t—He never visited me.”

  “What?” Ryn’s voice is harsh. “Of course he did. He must have.”

  I shake my head. This is really why Ryn’s hated me for so long? For something that didn’t even happen? “No. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “But when they found his body he didn’t have the box with him anymore. I assumed he’d given it to you.”

  “You assumed?” Blood throbs in my ears. “You’ve hated me for nearly eight years because of an assumption?”

  “Well—”

  “And even if he had visited me it wouldn’t be my fault that he died. It was an accident, Ryn! He slipped and fell and that had nothing to do with me.”

  “Vi—”

  “I can’t believe this is why you hate me. Did you forget that you weren’t the only one who cared about him? That I knew him almost as long as you did? That my heart was breaking just as much as—”

  “Shut up! You didn’t love him like—”

  “Everyone loved him, Ryn, you know that. There was just something about him, something that drew people toward him. And I get that he was your brother and you guys had this special bond, but come on. It’s been eight years. Don’t you think it’s time you—”

  “Stop it!” His hand sweeps through the air between us, calling up a gust of wind that forces me back a few steps.

  “Oh, you want to fight?” I advance on him, pushing both hands into the air so hard the magic throws him back against the wall. “Bring it, Ryn, BRING IT! I’ve been waiting years for this fight.”

  With an almost animal-like snarl, he strikes out at me. I duck and swing my fist, landing a punch to his stomach. But he’s already twisting out of the way, grabbing my shoulders, forcing my back against the wall. He clamps a fist around my throat as I bring my leg up and kick his chest. A heavy breath escapes him as he stumbles backward. I kick again, harder, and he goes down. I throw myself on top of him, but before I can even aim a punch, he flips me over, pinning me beneath the weight of his body. I slam the heel of my hand up against his jaw. His head jerks backward, and I shove him off me.

  And then we’re both on our feet again, circling each other, striking out with hands and feet. Kicking, hitting, kneeing, scratching. An unspoken rule exists between us: No magic. No weapons. Just like in the Fish Bowl.

  Ryn lunges toward me. I dart out of the way, always faster than him. I swivel and kick, but he grabs my leg, unbalancing me. I hit the ground with a yelp. Before he can pin me down again, I sweep my leg out in front of his ankles and trip him. He falls heavily and rolls toward me. But I’m already up and dancing out of reach.

  Time to make you run.

  I set off between the trees. Faster and faster. He does a good job of keeping up, but he’ll never catch me. I aim for the tree straight ahead. My feet hit the trunk, and for one crazy second I’m running vertical. Then I somersault backward—and land behind him. He throws his arms out against the tree to stop himself, spins around, and grabs at me. Caught by surprise, I don’t have time to move backward. He raises me above his head, as though I weigh little more than a sack of pixie dust, and throws me.

  What the freaking hell? Who throws their opponent?

  Something slams into my stomach, forcing the air out of my lungs. I realize my body is slumped over a tree branch. I drop to the ground and try to suck in a few breaths. I can hear Ryn coming up behind me, not even bothering to be stealthy. The second he throws his arms around me, I jab my elbow backward into his stomach. He groans. I stamp on his foot, then aim a backward kick at his leg. As he stumbles, I spin around and throw myself at him once more.

  We’re on the ground. I’m astride Ryn’s chest, fingers twisting in his hair, pulling his head back to expose his neck. And somehow there’s a glittering knife in my other hand, its blade held close to his throat. I’ve broken the rules, but I’m past caring by now. I lean over him, my face inches from his. “I could kill you,” I say between bared teeth.

  A humorless laugh escapes his lips. “Not if I kill you first,” he says between heavy breaths. I become aware of a sharp point digging into my side. I guess he broke the rules too.

  “So kill me,” I say. “It won’t bring Reed back. And it won’t make you happy. You’ve always known it wasn’t my fault; you just needed someone to blame.”

  I expect him to thrust his blade into my side, but he doesn’t move. Neither do I. A nighttime creature chirps nearby, and the leaves above us whisper in protest as a breeze disturbs them. I realize I can taste blood in my mouth, and possibly sand. I don’t look away though, and neither does Ryn.

  “You’re a mess,” he says eventually.

  “So are you.” His bottom
lip is cut open, and there are scratches across one side of his face. Twigs and leaves litter his hair. Mud is smeared above his eyebrow. But before I can point any of this out, the blade disappears from my side, and Ryn starts laughing.

  Laughing. Because that’s really the most appropriate reaction right now.

  “Is something funny?” I demand.

  “That was a good fight,” he says. “We should have done that years ago.”

  “Well,” I say, letting my knife disappear as I climb off him, “I’m glad one of us enjoyed the experience.” Although, if I’m going to be completely honest with myself, I may have enjoyed it too. It was certainly a pleasant change to have an opponent I couldn’t defeat in two minutes flat. I stand up and run my fingers through my hair, removing leaves and other forest debris.

  Ryn stands up and heads back to where his bag is. He sits down, a frown forming on his face. “Why have we never been put in the Fish Bowl together?”

  “Probably because somebody thought you might kill me.”

  He looks up and raises an eyebrow. “Perhaps someone thought you might kill me.”

  “Hey, you’re the one who started this whole over-the-top rivalry thing.” I try to stare him down for a few moments, then cross my arms and let out a sigh. “Okay, so I may have told Tora once that I thought you hated me so much you wanted to kill me. She said I was exaggerating, of course, but I think she’s been manipulating the schedules ever since.”

  “I see.” Ryn unscrews a small bottle and dabs some of the contents on his cut lip. “So that explains why we’ve never been put together for paired assignments either.”

  “Yes.”

  “Which would have been disastrous.”

  “Indeed.”

  Ryn digs around in his emergency kit for something else, which reminds me that I need to get home to my own healing potions. Adrenalin is subsiding, making me aware of the stinging cuts on my face and arms. Ryn looks up and finds me staring at his bag. “You’re not waiting for me to share, are you?”

  Wow, what a gentleman. “Of course not. I’d be waiting a long time for that.” I put a hand out and lean against the nearest tree. “No, I’m waiting to see how you plan to get over that magically reinforced wall.” I can’t help it; I’m curious.

  “Well, how about I surprise you with my generosity—” he throws the bottle he just used in my direction “—and then stun you with my wall-conquering skills.”

  I catch the bottle and throw it right back. “Thanks, but I have my own potions.”

  Ryn shrugs. “Whatever.” He packs away his things and stands. “Thanks for the fight, V. You’re welcome to leave now.”

  Thanks for the fight, V. At the sound of my old nickname, something tightens painfully in the core of my being. I used to hear it all the time, but then Reed died, and Ryn stopped talking to me, which means the last person who called me V was . . . my father.

  Ryn frowns and opens his mouth, then hesitates, as though thinking twice about whatever it is he plans to say. “Um . . . I’m just going to open a doorway to the faerie paths and exit somewhere on the other side of this wall. I don’t see why that shouldn’t work.”

  I nod, not trusting myself to speak in the wake of the unexpected memories of my father. Ryn turns to face the wall and pulls his stylus from a pocket on the side of his bag.

  “Ryn?” I call before he can open a doorway. I wait for him to look back at me. Even in the weak light of the moon, I can make out the intense blue of his eyes. “Do you still blame me?” His eyes slip away from mine and focus somewhere in the distance. He doesn’t answer, which is answer enough. Of course he still blames me. One fight plus one near-civil conversation doesn’t equal a changed mind. “It was an accident, Ryn.” Why can’t he get past this?

  “An accident that never would have happened if it weren’t for you,” he says quietly. “You were the one he was going to visit.”

  “That is ridiculous logic. My father died when he was on assignment, so should I blame the Guild for his death?” Again, Ryn doesn’t answer. “Or perhaps I should blame his best friend and partner who left the Guild and wasn’t there to protect him.”

  Ryn’s eyes narrow. “You can’t blame my father for your father’s death.”

  “And you can’t blame me for your brother’s.” I try to match his glare, but I’ve reached the point where I’m just too tired. I shake my head, breaking eye contact. “Go. Find your sister. Maybe I’ll see you in the Fish Bowl before we graduate.”

  Three seconds after Ryn’s doorway closes behind him, an alarm goes off. It’s a horrible screeching wail loud enough to cause a physical pain in my ears. It rises and falls like a siren, and every time it subsides, I can hear shouts and the sounds of a struggle. I close my eyes. Fantastic. Now I have to rescue Ryn.

  I scribble on the tree trunk beside me and step into the opening space, trying to picture the other side of the wall. The blackness dissolves, and I step out amidst the trees, searching immediately for the source of the wailing siren. Not too far away, I see Ryn and three uniformed men. Two are holding onto him, while the third raises his hands and releases a pulse of magic. Ryn doubles over with a cry of pain as the force hits him. I raise my arms and send a mental call to my bow and arrow. I aim and let loose. One, two, three. The men are down before any of them have time to realize what’s happening.

  I cast the bow aside and run toward Ryn, who’s now kneeling beside the three fallen guards. I grab his arm just as one of the guards pushes himself up and lunges for me. I kick him in the chest, then point at another guard who’s reaching for my ankle. I release a stream of fire. With a yelp of pain, the guard rolls away from me.

  I crouch down, write a doorway into the ground, and pull Ryn in after me. Moments later, we land in my sitting room. My ears ring in the silence that greets us. “Well, that was remarkably easy.” I slide my stylus back into my boot. “Whoever owns that place needs to find better guards.”

  Ryn lies on the floor for a while, breathing deeply as he recovers from the pulse of magic. “Why’d you . . . bring me back?” he asks. “I could have . . . handled them.”

  “Right.” I’m not even going to bother responding to that. “So you’ve found where they’re keeping your sister, you’ve discovered one way you can’t get onto the property, and I’m really tired and would like to go to bed.”

  “You’re tired?” Ryn gets to his feet. “You’ve been asleep for the past two days.”

  “Yes. And now it’s some ridiculously early hour of the morning, and I feel I’d like to sleep a bit more.”

  Ryn shakes his head. “And you call yourself a guardian.”

  “Actually, I don’t. I’m still a trainee.”

  “Well, thanks to you, little trainee, I now have to find another way over that wall. I hope you sleep well tonight.” And with that he turns and lets himself out across from where we’re standing. I stare at the bare piece of wall for a while after it seals up.

  Alone again.

  No one to distract me.

  I take a few steps back and sit down on the low table. I put my head in my hands. The tears come easily, as though the barrier holding them back was a flimsy one.

  Nate. Nate, Nate, Nate.

  What is he doing right now? Where is he? Is he thinking of me? Or is he sleeping peacefully, not feeling a shred of guilt over having betrayed me? Slowly, barely able to see through my tears, I clomp upstairs to my bedroom. My boots untie themselves and I pull them off. I climb into bed without bothering to change my clothes and fall asleep thinking of Nate.

  *

  In my dream I’m climbing a tree. I know that I’m really high up, and I know I’m not alone. I search the branches above me and, through the twilight, I spot a boy. Ten or eleven years old, black and blue hair, and eyes that glitter like the ocean on a summer’s day. I try to keep up with him, but there’s a bag on my back that weighs me down. “Wait, Reed, I can’t climb that fast.”

  He stops and looks down at me. �
��You want to pass your bag up? I don’t mind carrying two.”

  “No, I’m just saying go slower, that’s all.”

  “Just give him the bag, silly,” says Ryn from somewhere below me. “You’re holding us both up.” I feel a tug, and then the weight of the bag disappears. A moment later it sails through the air past my head and Reed catches it. With a wink, he turns back to the branch above him.

  When we reach the hollow created by the topmost branches of the ancient gargan tree, Reed puts a blanket down. “You brought the snacks, right?” he says to Ryn.

  “Of course. You think I’m going to climb all the way up here and not have anything to eat at the end of it?”

  “Uh, I’m pretty sure that’s what happened last time,” I say, then squeal as he retaliates by tickling me.

  “Hey, come on, you’re squashing the food,” says Reed. He pulls the bag off Ryn’s back. “It’ll be cool when we’re old enough to use the faerie paths. It’ll take a whole lot less time to get up here.”

  “Will you still want to come here when you’re old enough to use the paths?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I’m sure I will.” He grins, and the smile I return is immediate. I’m always smiling around Reed. There’s just something about him.

  “I think I know how to use the faerie paths,” says Ryn, lying down and putting a hand behind his head. “I’ve been paying attention when mom and dad take us through. I bet if we got hold of a stylus we could do it.”

  “Yeah, but your mom would kill us if she found out.” I unwrap a rainbow lollipop and stick it in my mouth.

  “She’d also kill us if she knew we were climbing this tree at night.”

  “Or any time of the day,” adds Reed. I realize he’s tapping his knuckles against the wood at the edge of the blanket.

  I wait for my lollipop to cycle through a full rainbow of flavors before removing it from my mouth. “Why are you doing that?” I ask Reed.

  “I’m testing to see if it’s hollow. What do you think, V?” He knocks louder.