I didn’t include the landing strip in the spell bubble as a precaution. What if the people flying in weren’t able to see the meadow? That’d be one hell of a complication.
“How fresh?” Aiden asks, his straight eyebrows snapping down in a scowl.
Ryan makes an impatient gesture with his hand. “Doesn’t matter. We also saw a witch.”
Aiden stands abruptly, walking toward the door. “Take me there.”
He tries to convince me to stay put in the Lodge, but I insist on accompanying them. That’s how I find myself tripping over underbrush around the village—Aiden opted not to rush straight through the settlement. We didn’t want to alarm the clan members or bring a mob of people to attack the witch, whoever it was.
“It’s a woman,” Ryan informs us as we hurry on. “A little older than you, maybe?”
“What did she look like?” I’m dreading his answer, yet I know in my bones what he’s going to say.
“Hot,” he says, blushing again.
Aiden snorts, and I nudge him. If we make Ryan uncomfortable, he might forget to tell us something important.
“I mean,” he stammers, “her hair’s brown, curly like yours, but her face is…” He waves his hand in front of his face. “She looks like a supermodel.”
Yup, I knew it. A ball of anxiety lodges in my stomach, and I slow my steps, unwilling to go forward.
“Skye?” Aiden turns back to glance at me. “You okay?”
I shake my head. “That sounds like Alice. She’s always been the pretty sister.”
He slings his arm around my shoulders and presses a kiss to my temple. “Impossible.”
I nudge him again, but I also smile—he’s trying to make me feel better, and I appreciate it. “What do we do with her?”
Aiden lets go of me with a sigh and stomps on through the forest. “Depends on what she came here to do. Maybe she wanted to warn you about Cameron?”
Maybe. Or maybe she was the one who orchestrated all of this. I don’t want to believe it, but I’d be naïve if I didn’t consider the possibility.
“We’re getting close,” Ryan announces a couple of minutes later. “Dad is keeping an eye on her on this side of the barrier.”
We don’t have to mask the sounds of our approach—the spell holds that in as well. We soon spot Ryan’s father standing very still between two tall fir trees, his serious expression trained on a person crashing around the undergrowth not far from us. Even from the distance, I recognize her gait, and that jacket—too thin for the weather conditions.
“It’s Alice,” I say in an undertone, even though she can’t hear us.
Ryan’s father turns to me. “You know her?”
His voice is vicious, his eyes bright with fury, and I remember it was his house that burned down in the witches’ attack.
“I’m so sorry for what happened to your home,” I say, a knot forming in my throat. “I don’t know how to repay that debt.”
He visibly shakes himself and turns his back on Alice. “It wasn’t you who did it. And if I understand correctly, one of them already paid for what he’s done.”
Cameron did, yes. He paid the final price, and now I have to somehow break the news to my sister.
“Skye!” she calls suddenly. “Help me!”
* * *
“Absolutely not,” Jack says when we’re sitting in the main room of the Lodge an hour later, some representatives from the village gathered around us.
“We can’t just leave her wandering around the forest,” I implore. “She’ll die of exposure!”
It’s a wonder she hasn’t already—the nights have turned bitter cold. I imagine she must have spelled the air around her to remain warm overnight, but that kind of magic would take a tremendous amount of power to maintain. She could exhaust herself easily. Besides, there are other things in Alaska that can kill you besides the weather. Like bears. And wolves.
