Beware the Wild (30 page)

Heath screams again. Lenora May inches farther away.

“Let them go, Fisher,” she says. “And let me save the boy.”

“You're being unreasonable, May. The boy's half dead, but you can still join me. We can be happy again, I promise. Now, please. Come. Here.” Even without shouting, his words are sculpted and brutal, each one chilling.

“No.” She moves back again, repeating the word with her actions. “There's no happiness here, Fisher. Not anymore.”

“Damn it, May!” Fisher's shout is echoed in Heath's scream.

“She said no!” Shine warms in my hand. “Net,” I say, assigning the magic intent, “bind.” I throw my spell, imagining a wide net as it leaves my hand. It spins in the air, opening like a glittering spiderweb, but before it reaches Fisher, it dissolves at the center, falling around him like confetti.

He narrows his yellow eyes and raises a hand. I don't give him a chance to do whatever it is he's intending. Again, Shine flies to my hand. “Rock,” I say, “fast.” I throw it as hard as I've thrown anything in my life, but this time I don't pause to see if it finds its target. I throw another and another, stepping closer with each one until I've positioned myself between Fisher and Heath.

I'm aware that Lenora May is shouting as she moves behind me, but I don't stop to see what she's doing. I can't, because Fisher is laughing and that means my attack isn't working.

I gather all the Shine I can possibly hold and hit him with everything I have. He keeps
laughing and when the last of the Shine falls away, the space between us is nothing but air.

My body shudders, exhausted. I will never be as strong as Fisher. This is his world and it has no choice but to adore him.

“Please, don't stop on my account.” He dusts the front of his coat as if we've done nothing more than share a cup of tea and a few cookies. “Or are you tired?”

There's not a single part of him that's worried he'll lose this fight.

Maybe he shouldn't be.

How can I possibly win?
My hands are shaking and I feel the ache of every muscle. I don't have the strength to do this. I don't have any sort of power that can match his. I was foolish to think this was anything but hopeless.

I look up at Heath's figure struggling in Fisher's web, at Lenora May stomping in the faces of gatorbeasts, at Candy holding my brother's half-dead body in the water. I see all the threads of Shine rushing to Fisher's form, giving him all the power he needs to control everything that happens in the swamp, and then I remember the only lesson he ever gave me.

He said,
Every time we speak, we influence the world around us. The magic of the everblooming cherry is more susceptible to your will
. It's like aligning electrons, and if I can redirect the flow of Shine, then maybe, just maybe, I have a shot.

But I can't do it alone.

“I'm not tired.” I pull a thread of Shine into my hand. “Heath, you tired?”

“Not me,” he grunts.

“Cut,” I say with an image of severed vines in my mind. And with a quiet, “Please don't hurt him,” I throw my spell at the webbing around Heath.

It works. He falls to the ground, and Fisher jumps forward with a snarl, but Heath is already on his feet. He gathers himself up and throws his fist directly at Fisher's vicious face. The attack catches Fisher completely off guard and he stumbles, struggling to regain his balance. Heath's jaw is set. He'll fight Fisher for as long as he's able, even if that's only another minute. But it's a minute I can use. And I know exactly what to do with it.

I dart beneath the tree, casting around for something sharp. A stick, a rock, anything that can do damage, and I spot something gleaming in the mud: the bracelet. It's been mangled in the fight, its once-smooth band now twisted and broken like a dagger. But it's perfect.

The sounds of struggle are loud behind me. I don't even have to call for Lenora May. She's at my side in an instant and we kneel at the base of the tree where its Shine is
brightest, where Fisher has diverted its natural flow so that it feeds only him. If all the magic of the swamp were a vast lake, Fisher has dammed it so that he controls its wild heart. He's changed it into something terrifying and selfish.

But dams can be broken and rivers redirected.

I stab the destroyed metal of my bracelet into the roots of the tree. Together, Lenora May and I join hands, circling the trunk with our arms. A trembling growl surrounds me and I look up in time to see Fisher's monstrous body charging. Shine bends around him and lashes at me, slicing my arms and cheeks. My legs burn and my heart begs me to run, to make this pain stop, but I grasp Lenora May's hands.

“Break,” I scream, and I hear Lenora May screaming her heart with mine, “Break!”

With one hand, Fisher knocks my entire body into the trunk. I have no breath left, but I don't let go of Lenora May's hands.

With Fisher's body looming above, I hold one word in my mind.

Break
.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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I
SEE MY DEATH IN
Fisher's yellow eyes and it's quick. In his fury, he snaps the fragile bones of my neck and feeds my body to his army of gatorbeasts.

I think of all the things I'll never get to do, the people I'll never see again, the kisses I'll never share with Heath, the volleyball games I'll never win with Candy and Abigail at my side.

And I'm so angry I can't even cry.

Then, Shine sweeps past me. I see all the running tendrils shift course, racing away from Fisher and toward the everblooming cherry tree as though someone pulled the plug in the tub and all the water's draining away.

Fisher is no longer the gray-clawed beast he was, but the boy from before, not much older than me, with untiring coal-dark eyes. With a shout, he dives for the tree, scrambling after the trail of Shine, grasping for more.

“No!” he cries, desperation thick in his voice. “Please, no!” But every last wisp of magic eludes him and, with a small choking sound, his panic ceases.

Slowly, he straightens and stands in a horrified stupor. Resigned to the fate creeping over him. Mud cakes his palms and knees. He stands, gazing to where Lenora May lies slumped on the ground a few feet away.

It's devastating to witness.

Heath staggers against the trunk of a cypress tree. His nose is bloodied and his breath ragged, but he makes no attempt to wipe away the blood.

“Tell her,” Fisher says, but he doesn't continue. He watches Lenora May as if it brings him great pain to do so.

Shine begins to unravel around him. It peels away from him in long, lazy strips, darts away quickly like minnows in shadow, and returns to the skirt of the cherry tree. Slowly at first, and then with a sense of urgency, undoing all of Fisher's work. He grows pale and soft like a cloudy sunset, but his eyes remain on Lenora May.

He opens his mouth to speak again. I can't hear him, so I step forward until I'm an arm's length away. He continues to fade. Without Shine to tether him, there isn't anything left to tie him to this world. His body left so long ago, he's been nothing but spirit and Shine. And anger. But it's all gone now. All I see is sadness.

“What did you say?” I ask.

“Tell her,” he repeats in a voice so surprisingly tender I can't help but feel sympathy. He's so thin now I can see the lines of cypress trees through him. “Please, tell her I love her.”

He's gone before I can promise. Even as full of anger as he was, his last thoughts on this earth were of the sister he loved too much.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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F
ISHER LEAVES CHAOS BEHIND
. W
ITHOUT
Shine to sustain them, the gatorbeasts shift one by one, slowly and painfully, into their human forms. Abigail's is the first face I see, but there's also Sheriff Felder, a few of the good ol' boys who were working on the fence the other day, one of the waitresses from Miss Bonnie's, and more I don't recognize at all. They must be so far out of time I wonder how they'll ever find their lives again.

The clouds spread enough moonlight over the water to show panic on all their faces as they realize where they are. Moonlight. At some point in all this, the sun left us all behind to rest for another tomorrow.

“Saucier!” Candy calls from the water. She's still got Phin in her arms. His body is nothing but dead weight behind her. I dive into the pond. “He's not dead,” she gasps.

Together, we drag him to the bank and begin to pull him up. The mud provides no support, but strong arms reach down to haul Phin from the water. Heath leans him against the trunk of the cherry tree while Candy and I scramble up beside them.

Candy springs into action, moving to calm the confusion that's rising in the background.

“What's wrong with him?” I look to Lenora May for answers. As with everyone else, the Shine in him is fading fast, faster now that Candy's not holding on to him. “Why didn't the peach work?”

“It did.” She pauses, frowning at Phin's quiet body. “But he and I switched places, and I gave my life to the swamp long ago. The peach cured him, but there was no life left to return to. Only my death.”

“Because you have his life,” I say.

Her nod is heavy. “I wish Harlan might have known the truth. He found a way out, but
not for me, not for someone who gave themselves willingly to this place.”

I think of how many hours Grandpa Harlan spent staring at the swamp, humming Lenora May's song. He may have been a little mad, but it might have been worse if he'd given her the peach that killed her instead of saving her.

Leaning forward then, she cups my cheeks in her hands. Her eyes shimmer with cherry-blossom pink. She kisses my forehead and says, “Thank you for being my sister.”

“Don't go,” I say. My words sound strange—so thick and slow.

She shakes her head. Her long, wet curls sway between us. “This isn't my life. It belongs to Phineas. I can't keep it from him any longer. I won't.”

“But he's dying.” I can't look at Phin's dark form, so empty of anything. “If you switch places with him, you'll die.”

All around are the noises of people shifting into their human forms, emerging from their confused prisons. Candy's voice rises above them, pacifying their panic, and directing them to follow the sheriff. Lenora May only watches me, a small smile bending her lips.

“You'll die,” I say again, helpless.

The swamp whispers and clucks and chitters. So full of life. So vibrant with death.

“I died a long time ago.” She brushes my tears with her thumb. “I won't let Phineas bear the burden of my mistakes.”

She wraps her arms around me and holds on for a long moment. I've only known her for a week, but with Shine in my veins, I'll remember her for so much longer.

“I—Fisher asked me to tell you he loved you.”

I feel her smile against my neck and I'm relieved that the message brings her comfort. “Good-bye, brave Sterling.”

She steps away, her face shining with my tears and hers. The skirt of her gray sundress sticks to her legs when she leans over the unmoving form of my brother and presses her lips to his. When she pulls away, she whispers to him and hums. Grandpa Harlan's song, her song, and my song. She hums until Shine fills the air between them, and the song resonates through the limbs of the cherry tree.

Then she closes her eyes and becomes very, very still.

Except for Heath, all the others have gone. Freed from the magic that turned them into beasts, they've fled as quickly as they could with Candy at the lead.

Shine bends and twists through the ground in a lazy ballet, stretching and tangling. The swamp is setting itself to rights, the Wasting Shine finding its own course without Fisher around to intercept. I wonder if my town will do the same. I wonder if everyone
who was here tonight will go back to pretending.