Of Giants and Ice (Ever Afters, The) (15 page)

When Amy found me, I asked her what Mom’s problem was. For a moment, she had looked away, which made me afraid that she wouldn’t answer me either. But then she’d said, “It’s easier for her to just pretend that everything’s okay.”

Well, I could do something. I could pretend too. My mom was an actress. I knew how it was done.

I went down the rest of the stairs with firm, loud steps.

Mom straightened up and spun around on the barstool, a wide smile on her face. She had already taken her makeup off, which always made her seem younger and more vulnerable. “What are you doing up?”

I didn’t need to tell Mom my troubles. She had enough of her own. I forced a smile. “I must be excited about Lena coming over tomorrow night. I couldn’t fall back asleep.”

Mom pointed to the screenplays beside her. “I’m just finishing up some work. Did you want me to make you some chamomile tea? That always helps.”

“Sure.” I let her make me tea, and cheerfully complain about
how much she had to read, and then walk me up to bed. At the time, I thought I’d done the right thing.

•  •  •

On Friday afternoon, as I walked through the dark hallway behind the red door, I was still worrying about Mom. Maybe I had just taken the easy way out. I felt like such a coward.

If I really
was
brave, I told myself, I would have made Mom talk about what was really wrong. I would have forced her to be honest with me.

With a shaky breath, I opened the back door and stepped into the courtyard.

Golden coins rained over my head in big stripes of red, yellow, green, and violet light. The coins were almost as big as my palm, heavy enough to sting wherever they hit.

I spotted the bucket rigged over the door, and then glanced across the courtyard, past the tennis court–size platform where high schoolers practiced dueling for the tournament, to the Tree of Hope. Chase leaned against the trunk, arms crossed with a hand on his chin. He grinned at me with a welcoming wave, and beside him, Adelaide sent me a smile, as triumphant as she would’ve been if it were
her
idea.

At my feet, the gold coins disappeared, one by one, each with a distinct pop. The evidence was gone.

I kind of lost it.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” I shouted, marching across the courtyard. My nose prickled, but when my eyes began to tear, I blinked rapidly before I reached him.

Gulping, Chase stared at me. I couldn’t tell if he had seen, but if he started to tease me about crying, I would have really let him have it. “Rory, you’re taking this a bit hard—”

“No, I’m asking you. Do you think you’re impressing anyone?” I said.

“
I’m
impressed,” Adelaide said haughtily while Chase eyed the bucket in my hand like he expected me to hit him with it.

“You don’t count,” I said.

“Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t take much to impress you. You would probably be impressed if he sneezed,” Lena said, coming up to stand beside me.

I couldn’t tell who was more insulted at this statement—Chase or Adelaide. It was nice to have an ally. “So, what’s it going to take to get you to stop bugging me all the time?” I asked.

Adelaide just screamed at the top of her lungs.

y first thought was that Adelaide had serious problems if she would throw a temper tantrum like that for Chase, but then she pointed.

I looked over my shoulder and froze.

Twenty feet away, slumped on the ground between us and the Tree of Hope, a ragged figure lay very still. Then two more figures appeared, one carrying the other, so suddenly that dust swirled around them. The one standing staggered and fell to his knees, choking on the dust. All three were covered in brown and red muck, so it took me a few seconds to recognize them.

On the fourth finger of the coughing boy’s right hand, a ring shone neon blue.

“Evan?” I said hesitantly.

He glared at us. For a second, I thought I was wrong. He didn’t seem like the same kid who had left here weeks ago biting his nails. The look in his eyes was completely different. “Are you just going to
stand
there?” he said, and his voice broke, ragged with coughing.

Then George was beside him. He knelt on the ground and gripped Evan’s shoulders. “What happened?”

Seeing George there made the scene seem more real. I could move again.

I ran. I reached the girl first—Evan’s sister, I couldn’t remember her name. She was slumped over on her stomach, her leg twisted underneath her. I flipped her over without thinking, wanting to see her face, to check if she was okay, but she screamed, even louder than Adelaide.

“Mary.” Evan sounded like he was only a few seconds away from fainting himself. “Her shoulder.”

Then I noticed too late the puncture wound just above her collarbone and the blood seeping from it.

I knew suddenly what all the red muck was. She had lost a lot of blood.

What happened next was weird. My hand reached out and pressed hard against the wound, but I felt like I was watching it from very far away. Under my palm, her right shoulder felt feverish and wet. I knew I should say something comforting, but my mind couldn’t find the words.

“Evan, what
happened
?” George said again.

Shaking his head hard, Evan held George’s forearms, like he couldn’t stay upright on his own. Blood dripped off the cuff of his left sleeve.

“Evan, you
have
to tell me,” George told Evan. “If you pass out before Gretel gets here, someone has to tell her what happened to you three.”

He blinked at George, like he just now realized who was talking to him. “Trolls. Captured us. Took the rings. Not sure how long. Days? Hard to tell. They held us in a cave. They couldn’t decide if they wanted to sell us as livestock or slaves. Kept asking questions about EAS.”

Chase ran up next and tossed a handful of leaves in my lap. “From the Tree of Hope. They’ll slow the bleeding and dull some of the pain.”

I stared at him, remembering dimly that we had been fighting about something a few moments before. It all seemed very stupid and far away with Evan and Mary and Russell here.

Chase completely misunderstood the look. “Gretel taught me, all right? And isn’t
anything
better than your bare hands?” he said, exasperated, dashing around George and Evan to Russell.

My palm was very red when I took my hand away, and the leaves looked shockingly green against it. When I pressed the leaf to Mary’s shoulder, she whimpered again, but nowhere near as loud as before.

“How did you get out?” George asked Evan.

“They kept us in cages. On the ground,” Evan said in the same halting monotone. “I asked a squirrel to help me dig under the bars one night. I crawled out and broke the locks on Mary's and Russell’s cages, but it woke the trolls up. We ran. We hid, but we couldn’t come back—we had to steal the rings . . .”

“But why is Russell unconscious?” Chase asked impatiently.

“Mary was h-hurt,” Evan said. “A troll threw a dagger when we left. So Russell and I went back alone. I found the rings, but one of the trolls caught Russell. I stabbed his foot, the troll let go, but he dropped Russell on his head. I slipped a ring on his hand to send him here, and I ran for Mary.”

“You did a good job,” George said, trying to sound encouraging. “You got everyone back.”

Tears ran down Evan’s cheeks, clearing tracks through the smeared mud, and he covered his face. I saw what was wrong with his left hand, and my stomach lurched. He had two stumps where his ring finger and his pinky should have been.

“
My
fault,” Evan said, his voice thick and muffled. “Russell and Mary. It’s all my fault. What if they never wake up?”

“Hush,” said someone else. “Let’s not give up hope before we reach the infirmary and I get a good look at you all.”

It was Gretel, right behind us. Lena stood next to her, panting, obviously the only one smart enough to run for help. I had never been so glad to see a grown-up in my life. Gretel took charge immediately, directing two-foot-tall men with their names stitched on their work suits—the Shoemaker’s elves. My knees weak and rubbery, I stepped away from Mary to make room for the stretcher carried by two named Bob and Rufus.

The whole courtyard fell silent while the elves loaded up the questers and carried them off. Gretel led the way. I didn’t see what door they entered, because Miriam dragged me to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

I scrubbed and scrubbed my hands under the faucet with almost a cup of soap, watching the bubbles turn from pink to white, and still, I couldn’t forget the way Mary’s shoulder felt under my palm—slick with blood and unnaturally hot.

“You’re okay, right?” Miriam handed me a paper towel, and I realized she was worried.

I nodded and dried my hands, and I
was
okay. I walked out of the bathroom without stumbling, and I made my way over to Lena’s table under the Tree, where all the sixth graders had gathered. Kelly sat with her feet propped up on the seat, her arms wrapped around her knees, her eyes very wide. Kyle, Lena, and Chase occupied the other chairs, so I sat on the ground.

I
was
fine, but seeing Evan and his Companions come back like that . . . well, Failing a Tale felt a lot more real than just seeing a name on a wall.

The whole courtyard waited for news. You could practically taste the worry in the air. All the seventh graders were a mess,
which surprised me in a numb, distant way. They hadn’t seemed all that fond of Evan and Russell
before
they went on a Tale.

“What could possibly be taking so long?” Kevin’s voice shook a little, but we all pretended not to notice.

“They should be fine,” Chase said from the chair beside Lena. “I’ve seen worse. Well, as far as the Garrisons go, anyway. Head wounds are a different story.”

“You’re really doing a great job of cheering everybody up,” Kyle said, and Chase shrugged.

We fell silent again.

I spread my hands in my lap, palm up, and tried to imagine what they would look like if I lost the same fingers Evan had.

Both hands trembled. Not a lot, but enough to notice if you were looking.

Great—not only did I freeze (again) at the first sign of trouble, but my hands shook afterward. If I got this freaked out over a Tale I wasn’t part of, my own Tale would be a disaster.

“Whoa,” said Chase, staring down from the chair above me.

I sat on my hands and glared at him, waiting for the teasing to start. I almost wanted an excuse to fight back. It was easier to be mad at him than to be scared.

He didn’t get the chance.

“Look.” Lena pointed across the courtyard. I scrambled to my feet to see.

Ellie stood at the Director’s podium, looking more serious than I had ever seen her. “The Director asked me to make a brief announcement. I’m sure you’re all worried. But Evan, Mary, and Russell will be fine.”

I let out a deep breath I hadn’t known I was holding, and Lena echoed it beside me. Chase propped his chin on his hand, sharing
a relieved grin with Kyle, who slumped in his seat. Kevin thumped Conner’s back, Conner’s eyes looking a little teary.

“None of the injuries are life-threatening,” Ellie continued, “and under Gretel’s care, they’re expected to make a full recovery. Barring only a few scars.” Evan’s missing fingers flashed in my mind.

“Now, Gretel’s infirmary is a bit full at the moment with Evan, his Companions, and a few particularly concerned friends. ‘The White Snake’ isn’t for the
faint
of heart,” Ellie added with a small smile. Nervous giggles rang out across the courtyard, but I didn’t get the joke. “So, if anyone else is feeling lightheaded or shaky, please come see me right away. I’ve got a special restorative tea you’ll need before you go home.”

Chase looked pointedly at me, but I stuffed my hands in my pockets. I didn’t want anyone else to see them trembling.

“Who fainted?” Kevin asked.

All across the courtyard, kids started gathering their things and talking. Every once in a while, someone laughed, too loudly, and shook his head with relief. Darcy had cried all her eyeliner off, while her brother, the fawn with the spiked collar, nuzzled her hands, trying to comfort her.