Nineteen

I promised to stay in Kit's line of vision, but I also need to stay out of Sadie's. That's tougher than I expected, but if I'm going to prioritize, I need to go with the first part. I made a promise to Kit.

"I'm going back to the house to get Garrett," I shout, as if to be heard above the wind. I jab my finger in the direction of the house.

"Good idea!" he shouts back.

I take off at a lope. I don't look toward Sadie. I must pretend that I am completely absorbed in my task. I run through the forest and aim for a tree that's toppled, roots jutting into the air. I circle around those roots, and for those moments Kit won't be able to see me, but neither will Sadie. It'll look as if I'm continuing toward the house.

I stop and hover behind the roots. Catch my breath. Then hunker down and make my way along the trunk. When I peek, Kit is looking in the other direction. Then he checks his watch, as if impatient and glances my way. He spots me, nods and quickly looks back at Sadie. His lips move, as if he's speaking, but I can't hear anything.

Hell, I can barely see anything. If Kit weren't in a light-gray hoodie, I'd lose him. The sky is night-dark now. Distant thunder rumbles. Then a flash of lightning has me diving to the ground before I'm spotted.

I check my own clothing. My sweatshirt is pale pink. That comes off, leaving a black T-shirt below. I shiver, but bundle up the sweatshirt and leave it behind. Black tee. Black sweatpants. I'd rather have a hoodie, but my hair is dark. Good enough.

I continue past the branches of the tree. By that point, I'm behind Sadie's line of vision. I rise up to see over the leafy top. The hood of Kit's sweatshirt seems to turn in my direction, and I wave one pale hand. He reaches out, as if entreating Sadie, and I hope that's him saying he sees me. I'll make sure of it once I'm closer.

I turn my attention to the bushes where she's hiding. I can see a sliver of her white jersey. I'm definitely behind her. Good.

In a glance, I set my path. It's mixed forest up here. Foliage has dropped from the birches and ash, and I have to avoid dry piles of leaves, but most of them aren't at that stage. The evergreen trees will be my friends in this. They lean toward Charlie Brown Christmas tree territory—with the lack of soil and competition for light—but they're thick enough for me to use, and I creep from one to another.

I'm darting between two when Kit puts out his hand again. Okay, that's definitely an "I see you" sign. He knows how dark it is, and that I might not notice him looking my way.

Three more trees, and then I'll be right behind Sadie, and I can ambush her. Yes, I suggested I'd just spook her into running, but if I can grab her unawares, that's better. She shouldn't keep moving in her condition.

I don't even know how she is moving in her condition.

Sheer will. Like me in the water. I couldn't feel my arms and legs, but I'd kept going. She can't feel the pain, and she keeps going.

I run to the next tree. When my foot hits unexpectedly dry leaves, I startle, but even I can't hear the sound over the wind. Take a moment. Catch my breath again.

On to the next tree.

I'm halfway there when the sky opens. Rain slams down with such sudden force that I gasp. It's like falling into the lake this morning. I'm soaked in the blink of an eye, the bitter rain making me shiver, as I'm mentally plunged back into the icy lake.

I'm not in the lake. Not drowning. Not fighting the waves. I'm on land, and I'm wet, but I'm fine.

I look past the tree.

There's no sign of Kit. There's no sign of anything. It's like being caught in a downpour in the car, the windshield suddenly as useless as leaded glass. I can make out blurred shapes, but they're all dark.

I stand there, at the side of the tree, rain pummeling me. It runs off my brows and into my mouth and even my nose when I breathe. I wipe a hand over my face. Useless. I blink. Still nothing but trees.

Kit's there. He must be.

A blur to my right. A pale shape running at me. I turn to meet him, and Sadie barrels into my side so hard we go down in a tumble of limbs and drenched fabric. I scramble up, ready to fight, only to see her looming over me, her eyes wide.

There's something wrong with her eyes.

I catch only a glimpse of them before they're hidden by the pelting rain, and all I can tell is that they're wide. So wide. Fear pulses off her, making my own heart race.

"Sadie," I say, as loud as I dare. "You're hurt—"

Her face lowers to mine, and I brace myself. Her cheek hangs open. Oh God, the skin just flaps there, bloodless, and I see her jawbone and teeth.

"Help me." Her lips form the words. "Please."

She's on top of me. Pinning me to the ground, but I don't think she realizes it. She's barreled into me and knocked me over, and now she's over me, her eyes wild and empty at the same time. Her pupils are blown. That's what I'd noticed earlier. They are impossibly huge, the blue irises barely a ring.

Head injury. Traumatic head injury.

No shit, Sherlock.

"Laney," she says.

She recognizes me. Thank God. Recognizes me and somehow, deep in that damaged brain, perceives that I'm not a threat. That however angry she's been with me for half our lives, I still care about her. She can still count on me.

"I'm here," I say. "I'm going to help you."

I reach up, tentatively. My fingers wrap around her good arm, and she seems to slump in relief.

"I'm sorry," I say. "Whatever happened to you, I'm sorry. We need to get you inside. Kit will help."

"Kit?" She pulls back, wrenching from my grip. "No."

"Kit will—"

"No, no, no." Her voice rises until I can hear it over the wind and rain. "He did this. Kit did this."

"What?"

"Help me. Stop him."

I open my mouth to argue and then shut it. She's confused. The last thing she must remember is being angry with Kit, and her brain has twisted that into thinking it's because he's the one who did this to her.

"Okay," I say. "Forget Kit. I'll get you back—"

Another blur appears in the rain, and this time, it materializes into Kit. When he sees Sadie over me, his eyes widen in alarm and he rushes forward. I start to say I'm fine, but she rolls off me. Her one arm shoots out, hand palm-up to ward off Kit, the other twisted and drooping.

At first, I see only her expression. The undeniable terror in her eyes. There is a moment when my gut twists, when the most bruised part of my heart screams that Kit has done something to her, that I have misjudged him, because deep inside me, that battered corner wants to have misjudged him, to be able to tell myself I didn't lose a good man.

Then I see Kit's expression—his utter bewilderment—and that doubt evaporates. His bafflement only grows as she scuttles backward.

"I'm not going to touch you, Sadie," he says. "I thought you might be hurting Laney. I can see you weren't."

He leans her way, only a lean to speak over the wind, and she hunches into herself like a dog ducking a blow. He straightens fast. When he looks at me, I tap my head, and he nods. Yes, of course. She's confused.

Kit hunkers down to her level, and it's the most nonthreatening pose ever, but she shrinks in, her good shoulder rising as if trying to shield herself.

"D-don't," she says. "P-please. I'm sorry. Whatever I did, I'm sorry."

Kit looks at me, his own confusion growing.

"She thinks you hurt her," I say.

"What?" His eyes saucer. "I didn't touch you, Sadie. Whatever happened—"

"Saw you." Her chest expands, as if drawing in breath. "Saw you, saw you, saw you!"

"What did you see?" he asks.

"You!" she spits the word. "Outside my window. Told me to come out. Go with you. Leave with you."

"I… I would never."

"Liar!" She rocks forward. "Saw you."

"You're saying you saw me outside your window, and I called up and asked you—"

"Waved to the boat. Beckoned to me."

Kit looks my way. "I… I don't understand."

She hallucinated it. Saw what she wanted.

Her deepest desire come true.

The core of so many fairy tales. Something in the woods. Something beckoning. Your true love, calling to you.

I shiver. That's my imagination again. I'm cold and drenched and exhausted.

Sadie must have dreamed Kit was outside her window saying he wanted her to leave with him. Then she got on a boat, and it exploded.

I'll explain that to Kit later. For now, I shake my head, telling him not to unravel her delusion. There's no time.

"Kit?" I say loudly. "I need you to go away. I have to help Sadie, and you can't be here."

He hesitates. Oh, he knows what I'm doing. He's just not sure he can play his role. Finally, he squares his shoulders and gives an angry wave, as if to say "Screw both of you," and stomps off.

I turn to Sadie, and I watch her expression for any sign of satisfaction, proof that she's playing a role herself. She only shudders with relief.

"Okay, let's go," I say. "I'll get you to the house."

I put out an arm to help her up, and she takes it. As I get her on her feet, her one leg buckles. I've seen it do that before, and I don't pay any attention now. It's just a reminder that I need to take this slow and support her.

We move at a snail's pace. We're a few hundred feet from the house. I have a spot out here, where I write sometimes, and it's close enough to the house that I can run back and grab a cold drink or use the bathroom. Now it seems impossibly far, like being in the water again, looking to shore.

Sadie wants to move faster. She keeps pulling at me, and I keep tugging her back.

"Need to get home," she mumbles when we get into a dip where the wind dies and her voice can rise above the battering rain. "Let Milo in. Raining."

"Milo?" I say, trying for a casual note. "Is that your cat?"

She nods, chin bobbing to her chest, that flap of flesh bobbing with it.

"I didn't know you have a cat," I say. Keep her calm. Don't let her go into shock.

She just keeps nodding.

"We'll get you home," I say.

"Key. You need the key." She stops suddenly and starts patting her pockets.

I squeeze her good arm. "I have it. Let's just keep walking. We're almost there."

She takes another step. Her leg buckles again, and this time I look. When I do, I gasp. There's bone sticking through the bottom of her yoga pants. Bone.

"Sadie?" I say.

She resumes walking. The bone in her lower leg peeks out and pulls in, and my gorge rises.

How is she walking? How the hell is she walking?

I take her elbow. She pulls away without seeming to notice I grabbed it. She's just moving. Blind to everything.

I grasp her arm tighter, and she spins. Her leg gives way, and I catch her, but she rips from my grip and grabs my forearms. Both hands dig into my arms so hard I let out a yelp of pain and shock. I try to yank free, but she has me in a vise grip.

That's not possible. Her shoulder is dislocated.

Sadie yanks me to her until my face is mere inches from hers.

"You made me a promise," she says, and it's a guttural rasp, but somehow I hear it over the wind and rain. "You made an oath."

"Oath? I-I don't know—"

"You promised to look after me. I gave you everything, and you made an oath and you broke our pact."

My brain reels to comprehend what she's saying. Broke a promise? Made an oath? Maybe I once said something that she took as a promise. We'll always be friends. I'll always have your back. I'd never hurt you. Words between children too young to anticipate the possibility of a situation that would rip them apart.

But broke a pact?

I remember the hex circle on the basement hatch, the symbol on the rocks, the one painted around the rat king.

I don't understand.

Because they're not connected. Because this is Sadie, horribly injured and out of her mind with confusion and pain. The woman is walking on a compound fracture. Trying to run with it. Do not expect anything she says to make sense.

"I'm sorry," I say. "Whatever you think I did, we'll talk about it, but I need to get you back to the house."

She wrenches my arms, her fingers digging in. "You owe me, girl. You owe—"

"Laney!"

Kit shouts right behind me. I'd forgotten he was following us, only pretending to have stormed off.

Sadie's hands slam into me, and it's an impossibly superhuman shove that sends me flying off my feet. I smack into a tree, pain rocketing through me. My feet slip on the now-wet leaves, and I start to slide, but something stops me. Pain rips through my shoulder.

"Don't move!"

It's Kit. He's there, holding me still. Rain sluices over his face. He's pushed his soaked hood off, and he's leaning over me, looking at my back. He says something I don't catch. Then he takes my shoulders, very gently.

"There's a broken branch puncturing your shoulder. It's not big. It's just—" He aims a lethal scowl over his shoulder. "Damn her. I know she's not in her right mind, but…"

"It's okay." I sound a lot calmer than I feel. "You said it isn't big? No danger of bleeding out if I pull away from it?"

He shakes his head. "It's just part of a branch. The rest must have already broken off."

"So a sliver."

"A big sliver, but yes."

I nod. "I need to pull straight forward. Can you watch to be sure it's not longer than we think?"

"That was my plan." He manages a half smile. "Those first-aid courses are really paying off, huh?"

I return the semi-smile, but then my mind goes straight to Sadie. How the hell is a first-aid course going to help us with her? What if it doesn't? What if she dies because we don't know enough to help her? What if she dies because we can't find her? She's long gone. Run off into the forest again.

When I glance around Kit, his thumbs rub my shoulders. "We'll find her, and we'll help her."

How? Sadie isn't on the mainland. She's not sending a boat. We don't have a boat. We're trapped, and whoever hurt her could still be—

"Laney?" Kit's face comes down to mine.

"Pull off carefully. Got it."

He doesn't say that was my instruction. He just kisses the top of my drenched hair.

"Count of three," he says. Then he positions himself where he can see the piece of wood. "Keep it slow. Three, two, one…"

I start to ease forward. Pain makes my knees buckle, and I throw myself forward instead. My knees do give way then, but Kit catches me and holds me against him.

"That was not slow," he says.

"It hurt too much."

He gently embraces me. "I know. Now keep still while I take a look."

I do that. His fingers carefully prod where the branch stabbed me. Then he tugs the fabric from my skin. I feel heat, as if blood trickles down along with the rainwater. A dull throb of pain, but nothing more.

"Will I survive, Doc?" I say.

"In my nonexpert opinion, yes." He moves back to look at me. "It's a puncture wound, like a nail, and it's hard to see how much it's bleeding in the rain, but it doesn't seem too bad. We need to get you inside, though. Get it bandaged. Make sure nothing's left in there."

I shake my head. "Sadie—"

"Attacked you. Grabbed you. Shoved you into that tree." He lifts his hands. "I know she didn't mean to, but she did it, and that makes her dangerous."

"She's hurt. Really hurt. Not just her face and shoulder. There's bone sticking out of her leg, Kit."

Kit rubs his beard. "Okay, that's… I'm not even sure what to say. She was running on that leg."

"I definitely saw bone."

"I'm not doubting it."

There's something wrong with her. That's what I want to say, and it's ridiculous, isn't it?

Of course there's something wrong. She's badly hurt.

No, something's really wrong.

She running on a compound fracture. She's out of her mind.

No, I mean…

I don't know what I mean. Something in her eyes. The way she grabbed me. Hurled me with a dislocated shoulder. What she said. That guttural voice.

You promised to look after me. I gave you everything, and you made an oath, and youbroke our pact.

Am I losing it? Hypothermia can have lasting mental effects. Confusion and disorientation, just like I'm seeing with Sadie. Am I thinking straight?

"We need to get you to the house," Kit says firmly. He hugs me, being careful with my shoulder. His mouth moves to my ear, letting him lower his voice. "If we see Sadie, I'll try to bring her in. If we don't, I'll leave you in Jayla's hands and take Garrett. Sadie will come out for Garrett. We'll find her, and we'll help her."

I nod against his chest.

Another light squeeze, and then he releases me.

"Let's go."