Elsa Crane's Arc

Chapter 55 of 66

Nancy left the driftwood hut with the rite in her mouth and did not go home. She went to the strawberry cottage instead. The teal crystal in the door threw green light on the vines as she knocked. Clara opened it. Fern stood behind her with a hand on Bodhi's shoulder. The boy still had his chalk stub in his fist, but he wasn't drawing. He was listening to something no one else could hear. "How long?" Nancy asked. "Since dawn," Clara said. "He won't say the words. He keeps tilting his head." Nancy set her basket on the vine-woven table and knelt in front of the boy. His eyes tracked past her ear, toward the door, toward the wall. The whisper had gotten louder as Elsa got weaker. Everyone in this room knew it. Only Bodhi could hear the shape of it. "Bodhi," Nancy said. "Look at me." He looked. His mouth twitched. The smile that came was not his. It was too wide and too still. Clara made a small sound behind her. "No," Nancy said. She took his hand, chalk and all. "That's not yours. Put it down." Fern crouched beside him. "The crystal held it out of the schoolhouse for months. It can't come through the door here either. It's only in your head because you're letting it stand there." "It says the crown isn't mine," Bodhi said. His voice was flat. "It says I'll ruin her name." Clara knelt on his other side. "You made your first mark with Nora watching. You forced the cousin elder out. You fed the village when the frost came. That's yours. The whisper had nothing to do with any of it." "It's louder now because she's dying," Fern said. "It thinks the seat is empty. It isn't. You're in it." Nancy squeezed his hand until the chalk broke. "At midday you'll stand in the library. I'll speak the warmth into you if Elsa's voice fails. When I say your name, you answer. Not the thing in your ear. You. Do you understand?" Bodhi's eyes filled. The false smile fell off his face. His own mouth came back, crooked, gap-toothed, small. "I'm scared," he said. "Good," Nancy said. "Scared is yours. Hold onto it." Fern pressed her palm to the crystal door. The green light steadied. Clara put her arm around the boy's shoulders and did not let go. "Say it back to me," Nancy said. "Say: the crown is mine." He said it. Once soft, once clear. The third time his voice held. They walked him to the library between them, Fern on one side, Clara on the other, Nancy a step ahead. The whisper did not follow past the strawberry vines. Bodhi's face stayed his own the whole way. When he stepped through the library door, the mothers were already seated. Elsa was on her feet.