Cara Blackwell's Arc

Chapter 3 of 4

The last bell rang, but Cara did not go home. The library page burned in her pocket. Every marked Blackwell woman was dead, and only the boy from the woods could tell her why. She could not sit at a kitchen table and wait for him to find her again. She whistled for her dog and started walking. Rico trotted at her side, ears up. She headed for the tree line past the school, where the boy had come from. The woods swallowed the light fast. Branches closed over the path. Rico's tail dropped low. He pressed against Cara's leg and growled at nothing she could see. She stopped. The trees looked the same in every direction now. Her heart kicked. The mark on her wrist grew warm, and she felt the wind start to lift her locs. She forced a slow breath. Not here. She could not lose control here, alone. "You shouldn't have come in alone." Cara spun. The boy stood between two trunks, dark hair, dark jacket, hands loose at his sides. He crouched at once and let Rico sniff his knuckles. The dog's growl faded to a low whine. Cara noticed how easily he calmed her dog, the same as in the alley. "Rowan," he said, standing. "You never asked my name. It's Rowan." "I found the record," Cara said. Her voice shook. "A Blackwell woman with my mark. She's dead. They're all dead. I'm the last one." The wind pulled at the branches. "You said you'd explain. So explain." Rowan's eyes moved to her wrist, where the flame mark glowed faint red. "Not out here. If you keep pushing that down, you'll bring the storm and the whole town will see. There's a place. Somewhere they teach people like us." "Teach us what?" "To hold it," he said. "To not be afraid of it." He turned and pushed a low branch aside. Behind it the trees thinned. "Come on. Bring the dog." Cara did not trust him. But she trusted the page in her pocket, and she was tired of being afraid of her own hands. She followed. The path opened into a clearing she had never seen. A building rose from the dark, black stone and tall pointed windows lit gold from within. Strange marks were carved above the doors. It was a school, but nothing like Hawthorne High. Rico stared up at it and pressed close to her leg. "What is this place?" Cara whispered. "Black River," Rowan said. "Where the marked come to learn. Your mother's name is in there." He climbed the steps and looked back. "You wanted answers. They're inside." Cara set her hand on Rico's head and climbed after him. The tall doors opened. Warm light spilled over her. She stepped through, and the woods closed behind her. There was no path back now, only the school and whatever it knew about her mother.