Page 8 of Willow Embers
She brings the canteen to her lips but pauses, glaring at me. “You’d think I’d be better at it, wouldn’t you? After some of the whoppers I’ve fallen for?” She takes a sip and hands it back without another word.
Nixie doesn’t have to say anything else. I got the message loud and clear.
I could try to explain myself. God, I want to. I want to confess everything. But we’re not the same foolish kids we were back then, and this isn’t about me. It’s about finding and saving something that matters to Nixie more than anything else in the world.
So, I put the canteen away, swallow my pride, and keep moving.
A few minutes later, I spot a small piece of broken black plastic on the ground. A couple yards ahead, I spot another. Ona hunch, I ask, “What kind of leash do you use when you walk Tiberius?”
“One of those fancy retractable ones. He loves to explore,” she says, with a note of sadness in her voice.
I keep my eyes peeled without saying anything else. Nixie is already struggling, and the last thing she needs is me getting her hopes up for nothing.
A few more bits and pieces are scattered further ahead. Then, a couple of feet off the trail, the mangled side of a black plastic handle peeks out from beneath a bush. Without thinking, I put up a fist and stop.
Nixie either doesn’t understand the signal or isn’t paying attention because she bumps into my pack with a yelp.
“What is it?” she asks, her voice pitched half an octave higher. “Do you see him?”
I walk over, pick up the chunk of rigid plastic, and hold it up so she can see it. “Does this look like Tiberius’s leash?”
She nods quickly. Her throat is working but no sound comes out.
Standing, I cast a glance along the trail ahead of us, then out into the trees. “I think he probably chased whatever he was after out there.”
The words are barely out of my mouth before Nixie charges into the woods. “Tiberius!” Her voice carries, but there’s no hiding the tremor in it. “Come on, big guy.”
I’m hot on her heels, ready to grab her and remind her that I’m the one in the lead here. The safest place is behind me. Always. But a sound snags my attention, just as I catch her by the arm.
She wheels around like a feral cat. “Don’t you dare,” she hisses.
My instinct is to recoil from that snap, but I hold on. “Quiet. Listen.”
Beneath the sounds of the dark forest and running water from the creek nearby, I hear it again. A weak whimper.
Tears pool in Nixie’s eyes. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Let me go!” She wrenches out of my grip and blunders forward. The light from her flashlight sprays wildly across the trees, the shrubs, the ground. And when her light catches on Tiberius —half-submerged in the icy creek, fur plastered to his trembling sides, eyes wide with panic— the cry that breaks her voice nearly does me in.
“Nixie, wait!”
She doesn’t. She plunges forward without a single fucking thought about the consequences.
“Careful!” I bark, fear slithering up my spine.
The water’s cold and it’s dark. That is a dangerous combination in more ways than one.
But she’s not careful. Her entire focus has narrowed to her dog. She barely even slows as she slogs through the thigh-deep current. And when she loses her footing and goes under, my heart stalls.
“Goddammit,” I growl, throwing my pack off and shoving into the water after her.
She’s up and fighting her way to Tiberius before I make it to her, but the damage is done. She’s soaked, head to toe. When she gets to him, she wraps him in a hug.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers into his wet fur. “I’m so sorry, big guy. We never should’ve come back here.”
FIVE
NIXIE
Strong hands clamparound my upper arms hard enough that it hurts. Or maybe that ache is radiating out from my chest. I don’t know and I don’t care. Tiberius’s here. He’s alive. And for the first time in hours, I can breathe.
