Summer Sun's Arc

Chapter 5 of 15

Snow fell on the yellowed grass. Summer Sun stood by the thermometer and watched the flakes settle on the frozen sunflowers. The needle sat pinned at the low mark. Angela shivered beside her. Gideon packed up his tools and said he had done what he could. The rest, he said, was between her and the witch. He walked back toward his workshop and left them in the cold. "We need help," Angela said. "My sister. She listens when I don't." Summer Sun nodded. Angela's sister lived two fields over and kept a level head when the colony panicked. They found Tracie Ant tightening the straps on her vest, already headed out to see what had gone wrong with the weather. Angela told her, plain and fast. Tracie listened, then pointed toward the tree line. "Smoke," she said. "That way. She's brewing again." They followed the smoke to a clearing. Matilda stood over her iron pot. The green mixture inside had gone thick and slow in the cold. She stirred it hard and muttered. When she saw them, she stopped. "You," she said. "You ruined my heat. I needed the air burning for this. Now the pot won't take." She pointed the ladle at Summer Sun. "I was going to melt you out of the sky." Summer Sun stepped closer. The snow crunched under her feet. "Your fire's out," she said. "Your potion's cold. And you're standing in the snow in sandals." She looked at Matilda's bare toes, red and curled. Matilda looked down too. A flake landed on her big toe. She flinched. Summer Sun did not smile. She only pointed. "Your toes," she said. Angela let out one short laugh. Tracie covered her mouth. Matilda glared, then looked at her toes again, and something in her face broke. Not a laugh. A snort. Small. Fast. Gone before she could stop it. Matilda clamped her jaw shut. "That wasn't anything," she said. But the snort had happened. Summer Sun heard it. Angela heard it. Tracie heard it. Matilda kicked the pot. The green mixture sloshed and froze in a sheet down the iron side. She grabbed her ladle and stormed off into the trees without her cauldron. The snow kept falling. Summer Sun watched her go. The needle behind them was still stuck at the bottom. The sunflowers were still frozen. She had not fixed the weather. She had not made Matilda laugh, not really. But she had cracked something. A snort was a start. Angela touched her arm. "She'll be angrier now," Angela said. Summer Sun nodded. "I know." She looked at the abandoned pot, the cold green sludge, the witch's footprints leading into the woods. Whatever Matilda came back with next would be worse. And Summer Sun would be ready for it.