Charlie Morrison's Arc

Chapter 14 of 14

Charlie stopped three steps short of the barrier. The wooden box pressed against her ribs under the moss-colored cloak. The blessed basket inside was the only thing that mattered to the court, and she was about to carry it across a line she could not step back through quickly. The follower on the path had run, but a hired hand always reported back. Whoever sent that tracker would send another. Her cabin sat empty behind her. The porch, the cedar chest, the journal. All of it open. She stood with two wolves at her sides and felt the pull of the wrong direction. She looked down at her guardian, then at the gray wolf beside him. David's green eyes met hers. He did not blink. He tipped his head once toward the path she had come from, then set his weight square on his front paws. He was telling her he would go back. He would hold the porch. She would not have to ask. Her guardian pressed his shoulder against her thigh and held there. He would stay with her. Between them they had split the problem in half without a word. A blue glow lifted through the ferns ahead, and a white glow beside it. The lights slowed and settled into shape. Bonnie Dewshine, in her dress of blue flowers, hovered at eye level. Daisy Springrain drifted down beside her, white petals bright against the dark trees. They were the two who had drilled Charlie in the table words and the sitting and the lifting of the cup. Their faces were not warm now. They were working faces. "You are late by a breath," Daisy said. "Not late enough to fail. Come." Bonnie looked at the wolves. "Both?" "One," Charlie said. Her voice came out steady. "The gray one goes back to guard my cabin. My guardian comes with me to the barrier." Daisy's small mouth tightened. "A mortal does not bring a wolf to the table." "To the barrier," Charlie said. "Not through it. He walks me to the line. Then I walk in with you." Bonnie nodded once. Daisy waited a beat, then dipped her chin. Approved. Charlie knelt. She put her hand flat on the gray wolf's shoulder. The fur was warm under her palm. "The porch. The chest. The journal." She did not thank him. He had told her already that debts were not the reason. "Go." David turned and was gone into the brush without sound. Charlie stood. Her guardian pushed his head against the back of her knee, then stepped forward, nudging her toward the two fae and the line of air that shimmered between the trees. She felt the courage of it move up her spine. She shifted the box under the cloak, lifted her chin, and walked to the barrier with the wolf at her heel and the two small lights leading her in.