Page 62 of The Girl in the Forest

Rebels, I thought. Wolves living outside the pack. No one wanted their names used. Not that keeping my name secret made any difference when my hair gave me away. I should consider dying it again, despite what Mace thought.

But at least Jodan seemed friendly. Grayson made me sit closer to the fire. He settled in the other chair, and both chairs were wooden and creaky, but smooth from use. Stable enough not to rock when I leaned forward, holding my palms toward the warming flames. I couldn’t stop the shivering. I wasn’t wolf enough to ignore the weather, and my wet clothes held a cold I’d need hours in a warm bath to get over. Blood still crusted on my forehead. My muscles were locked in place and I didn’t want anyone to notice how ragged I felt.

“We’ll get you something warm to drink.” Jodan turned to Grayson, and added, “Old Mae’ll be here soon—she’s our best healer.”

“The day is miserable. Don’t bother your people when I can heal.”

“Allow us the honor of hospitality. We can care for your lady. She’ll be needing privacy to clean up, rest awhile. A woman’s touch is always better. Give you and me a chance to talk.”

“Then I thank you for the generosity.”

Grayson tipped his head, and I sensed the undercurrent beneath the formality. But I was too tired to work out the code they were using. I decided Jodan basically said we weren’t leaving until he had answers, and Grayson agreed. But the answers would be those Grayson wanted to give.

Outside, the sky was darkening, and clouds brought a distant grumble of thunder; another storm was moving in. Through the crack around the house door, the gust of wind was more wintery than early autumn. The fire leaping in the fireplace soothed, although I couldn’t stop chewing on my lip. Hospitality aside, too much had happened. We were here because I’d insisted on coming over Grayson’s objections, because I’d wanted to fight him. Wanted to prove I was as strong as he was, as Mace and Fallon. They’d faced the Gemini Witches while I’d been riding bikes and going to the movies and believing the stories in Leo’s children’s books.

“You’ll be safe during the storm,” Jodan said.

I glanced up. He was sitting now, relaxed, his eyes kind as he studied my face, and I imagined the emotions I’d given away.

“Rain dampens the patrols some,” Jodan continued. “Not that the rangers won’t come out if some reason bites hard enough on their asses… my pardons, lady.”

“Noa,” I said. “Just… Noa.”

Grayson added, “We ran into a patrol north of here. Two men, heading west.”

“That’d be Banks and Skids, going after their smuggler reward. Two dolts if there ever were some.”

I listened to the scrape of a stick while the elder stirred up the fire. The pop of sparks, before he tossed more wood on the flames. “We have people watching.”

Grayson shifted his position on the wooden chair. “I’m guessing you have wards in place.”

The old man gave the fire another stir. “You feel ’em?”

“Your bird girl caught me first,” Grayson admitted with a smile.

With a sigh, Jodan tossed aside the stick, leaned back in his chair with both hands braced on his knees. “You triggered one of our wards about a mile out. One near that cave. Adriel was closest. She followed you some until her father could get there. She’s my granddaughter. Been deaf since she was seven, in case you were wondering. Fell out of a tree and hit her head. She’s still too young for a pack bond, so we all learned to talk with our hands for her.”

I thought Grayson’s explanation was more strategic, keeping conversations private, but the idea of a girl inspiring rough, hardened rebels to communicate on her terms and not theirs deserved respect.

The elder picked up an old-fashioned smoking pipe and tamped down fresh tobacco, held a burning twig dug from the fire until a puff of fragrant smoke drifted in the air. “This place is called Sutter. Won’t find it on a map. But then, Alpen’s not found it in three years, so there is that.” He leaned back. “If you don’t mind, I’ll ask what brings you here.”

“Business with the Gemini Witches,” Grayson said evenly.

“Ah.” Jodan’s gaze swept over my face. “I’m thinking that did not go well.”

“Not as expected.”

A young woman edged into the room, offering tea; I tasted pine needles with spearmint and something honeyed. Grayson held his tea cup braced against his knee—a ridiculous sight—and the fire crackled around charred wood. Smoke ran up the chimney, but if Sutter survived for three years without discovery, smoke didn’t matter.

Thunder rumbled right before rain pelted the shingled roof. Burn raised his head. The thick fur along his spine was up and bristly.

“Burn doesn’t like storms much.” The old man swatted at the smoke curling from his pipe. “And rain slows Old Mae down. But she’ll be along in a moment. In the meantime, we’d best talk about those witches.”

I looked at Grayson.

He looked at Jodan.

The elder nodded, puffing on the pipe with his lips pursed. “Some questions ought not to be asked, but I guess that’s up to the person asking. I was a scholar before I left the Mule. Spent time in the archives and have a fair idea of who you two are. Whatever you needed from those witches… the coven’s either dead or gone. We’ve seen no one around for months, and the two witches in the cave, well… I’m guessing you’d know more about that than I would.”

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