Elsa Crane's Arc

Chapter 13 of 66

The next morning Elsa watched Bodhi from her doorway. He was drawing symbols on the frozen fence rail with his chalk. He was smiling. But she had seen how easy that smile came, and she knew Brynn could still put a hand on his shoulder at the blackberry arch and undo a night in the tunnels with a bowl of berries. She needed something Brynn could not match. She needed a wall around the boy. She watched the road until she saw him coming. Jasper Moone. The big auburn-bearded woodcarver with hands like shovels, the man children trailed behind like ducklings and grown women stepped off the path to avoid. He was setting a small carved fox on a doorstep across the lane. Two little girls were already tugging at his suspenders for the next one. He laughed and gave them each a rabbit. Elsa had never used him before. She had watched him for a year. Adults feared him without cause. Children loved him without reason. That was the shape she needed. "Jasper," she called. "A word." He came up the path with his hat in his hands. She led him inside and set tea between them. She did not smile the wide smile. She used the small one, the one she saved for people she meant to keep. "The Vance boy," she said. "Bodhi. He walks alone too much. I want you to walk with him. Carve him animals. Teach him whittling. Whatever fits." Jasper turned the cup in his hands. "His mother won't want me near her door." "His mother will want what I want. I'll speak to her." He looked at her a long moment. Then he nodded, slow. "And if the librarian comes to fetch him?" Elsa felt the cold click of it — he already knew who the danger was. He had watched too. She had chosen right. "Then you stand between them," she said. "You do not raise a hand. You do not need to. You only stand there." Jasper set his cup down. "I can do that." She walked him out. Bodhi was still at the fence. Jasper crossed to him and knelt in the snow and drew a small wooden owl from his coat pocket. Bodhi took it with both hands. He looked up at the big man and did not flinch. Then he took Jasper's finger and pulled him toward the fence to show him the symbols. Elsa watched from the step. Down the lane, Brynn had come out of the library with her basket. Brynn stopped when she saw them. Jasper's broad back was between her and the boy. Brynn stood a long moment in the snow. Then she turned and walked the other way. Elsa let out a breath she had been holding since the tunnels. The binding was set. Not a ritual — a man. A wall the boy had already chosen to lean against. Brynn would need a new road now. And Elsa would be waiting on it.