Winter's Dream (The Hemlock Bay Series) (7 page)

“We don’t know. It happens to a lot of places like that. Maybe it’s intentional, maybe it’s us, maybe it’s them, maybe it’s just the world trying to keep its balance.”

I thought for a few minutes, twirling a copper curl around my fingers. “Okay, I didn’t know that part. What else?”

The aunts exchanged a look between each other. “You knew the rest of it?”

I rolled my eyes. “I got a cliff notes version of it.”

“I see that,” Viola said, piercing me with her narrowed eyes. “Care to explain what you do know of Gatekeeping and where you learned it from? Who is this David?”

I bit my lip, wondering how much I should tell them, if anything at all.

“And don’t even think of lying. The truth is written all over your face,” she said pointedly.

I grimaced, remembering Jordan’s little mini makeover. “Well, when I started going to Nightmare Town—”

“Singapore,” Viola interrupted with a scowl.

“Nightmare Town,” I said firmly. Hazel elbowed her sister and nodded for me to continue. “So, when I started going to Nightmare Town I had a secret admirer I didn’t know about. And when my brother died this guy sort of showed up and said he could help me.”

“You didn’t!” Viola gasped.

“I did,” I said, holding my chin up. “And I don’t regret it. I got my brother back, safe and sound.”

“And what was your end of the bargain?” Hazel asked, her face unnaturally pale.

“He wanted me to visit him so he could ask me about my world,” I said, hedging the complete truth.

“That can’t be all,” Viola said flatly.

I sighed. “I think he really just wanted a chance to get me to fall in love with him.”

“And did you?”

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. “Maybe a little. Until I realized he had used my brother and tricked me to get me to agree to his little binding.”

“You’re bound by one?” Viola shrieked, jumping up from her chair.

“No!” I said quickly, jumping up from my own. I held my wrists out for her inspection. She snatched them and held them up to the light, examining the silvery scars.

“How did you get out of it?” Hazel asked wonderingly.

“I don’t really know,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “I think I hurt his feelings.”

Viola released my hands and sniffed. “They don’t have feelings; they aren’t people.” She took her seat and topped off her iced tea then knocked it back in one long swallow. “Well then. Rule one, you don’t interact with jinn, you guard against them. Rule two, should you ever have to interact with another one again, don’t believe
anything
it says. There are about a million more rules but you’ll learn them as you go.” She clenched her eyes shut and began fiercely rubbing her temples.

I bit my lip, trying to decide which questions I wanted answers to first. “So that’s what I’m really here for? To learn from you? How do you know, do you dream of Nightmare Town too?”

“Oh , heavens no,” Hazel said, sitting back in her seat. “There are many, many thin spots. Our family is stretched out over the world protecting each of them. There are several here in Michigan.”

“Because of the coast?” I asked. My regret was instant when they snapped their eyes to mine.

“How did you know that?”

“I read a book,” I said, giving another half truth. “So where are all these different places?”

“All over, everywhere. You wouldn’t be able to identify most of them. Like Singapore, they are usually old towns. Most anytime you hear about a ghost town, that’s one. But some are so old they’ve been covered over and forgotten by history for years. A few are still active cities, although those are usually ones so large a hundred Gatekeepers couldn’t keep jinn from slipping through.”

I sat quietly for a moment and realized the biggest mystery hadn’t been explained. “So what exactly am I supposed to be doing?”

“Simple,” Viola said. “Keep them out.”

This time it was Hazel that rolled her eyes. “It’s not that simple—or easy. They’re very tricky, very smart and usually very old. Some get through or get to us,” she gave me a pointed glance, “so the bulk of work is to ensure they can’t find an unguarded spot to just funnel through as they please.”

“What exactly is it they would want to do over here anyway?” I imagined Jordan making his way to the nearest mechanics and demanding an explanation. I had to bite back a laugh.

Hazel shrugged her shoulders. “Sometimes nothing. Sometimes to learn, sometimes to find a human mate, sometimes to play tricks, sometimes to start wars.”

“Wars?” I asked.

“Some of them feed on the dead. War is like a huge buffet to them.”

My empty stomach lurched and I had to swallow back bile. I definitely couldn’t imagine Jordan doing that.

Hazel reached over to pat my hand. “I know it’s a lot to absorb, dearie. This is something you would have been well prepared for by your mother or grandmother if things hadn’t gone so wrong for your family.”

Her words sparked my brain back to my original goal. “Right. Okay, so when do I get to see my grandma? And I need to look for my brother. I’m sure he’s close to Hemlock Bay—”

Hazel cut me off with the shake of her head. “You need to focus on learning to guard Singapore.”

I stared at her. “No, I need to find my brother. He’s been missing for a month now. And my poor grandma’s been locked in some awful nursing home—”

“Your grandmother would understand if she was of her right mind, which she is not. Besides, she probably wouldn’t even remember you anyway. She is fine where she is at and you have no authority to remove her from there anyway. As for your brother, like I said, he is almost an adult. A few more months of dodging that twisted social worker and he’s home free.”

Anger built up a painful pressure in my chest. “I don’t care about Gatekeeping, I care about my family and I
am
going to find them.”

Hazel rose up from her chair to stare down at me. “You are our warden now. You will live in our home and you will learn our family’s ways. In time you may gain enough control to be away from us long enough for a visit but I promise you that is a very long way off. We keep the balance, we keep our world safe and that is more important than visiting your grandma or chasing after your wayward brother.”

My hands shook with anger and I clamped them down under my arms. She continued her speech as if I wasn’t sitting there wanting to strangle her. “Tonight when you sleep and go back to Sing—Nightmare Town, take a really good look around. Look for any changes, any damage. Talk to the town’s people, ask them if they’ve seen or heard anything strange. Keep an eye out for any strangers.” She paused and looked me over. “I can see how angry you are with me but you must believe how vital it is that you protect this area. The devastation the jinn have unleashed on our world in the past was horrifying. Think of every major war, every major natural disaster. Think of all the strange and evil things that crop up in the news. At least half the time they are responsible. If you want to protect your family and keep them safe, you will commit to this.” Hazel gave me a long hard look before leaving the table. And I had thought she was the nice one.

Viola hadn’t moved from her seat and waited for me to notice her again. She gave me a pained smile and it was the first kind look I had seen on her face all day. “There is so much you don’t know. We can’t tell you in a day or in a week. Some of it we can’t even tell you at all, you’ll have to learn on your own. And it’s all important. More important than what you want.” She ignored my silent glare. “If you want to write your grandma a note, I’ll make sure she gets it.” She patted my hand and left the table as well.

I sat in the silent kitchen watching tiny snowflakes blow through the air, never quite making it to the ground. I forced all of my anger into a painfully hot ball of determination. I wasn’t going to abandon my grandma and Linc just because two old women said I had something more important do to. I would learn what I needed to about Gatekeeping, but first I was going to find my family.

Chapter Seven

M
y scowl was reflected in
the kitchen window. So was one of those stupid cat clocks that had a swinging tail and swishing eyes. It ticked endlessly, each swipe of the tail standing out perfectly against the snowy air behind the glass. If I had a tail I would probably be gliding it back and forth too, just a like a real cat does right before it attacks.

My dark thoughts were interrupted by Minnie and Martha clamoring up the basement stairs. “So that’s how everything stays good down there,” Martha was saying, giving me time to bottle my emotions and put a neutral expression in place.

“Bixby, you have to take a look in the basement, they have everything!” Minnie said, dumping an armload of potatoes, carrots and onions onto the butcher block. I forced myself to give her a little smile.

“So what’s next?” Minnie asked, eager to be helping with dinner. She hadn’t believed me when I had told her in juvie that I knew how to cook. The only things she had ever made was Pop-Tarts and macaroni.

“Next we get the chicken,” Martha said, grabbing her coat off a peg by the back door. Confused, Minnie grabbed one as well and followed her out. Eager to plot out any potential escape routes, I followed too.

Standing behind the house I could see how big the property really was. Besides the barn, there were several smaller buildings. Rows of frozen, upturned dirt marched all the way back to the tree line I could barely make out. Martha made her way to a little shed off the side of the barn.

“What are you doing?” Minnie asked nervously.

“She’s getting our dinner?” I squeaked, hoping it wasn’t currently alive.

Thankfully the shed Martha ducked into was just that—a shed. We followed her into the small, low ceilinged room and along the wall were two large freezers and one refrigerator. She pulled a large covered dish from the fridge and shut it with her hip.

Seeing Minnie’s face, she asked, “What?”

Minnie gave a strangled laugh and I struggled not to echo her. “Nothing, I just thought you were going to actually come out here and chop off some chicken’s head.”

Martha gave a trilling little laugh and shook her blonde hair back. “Heavens no, it’s not worth it to butcher just one chicken at a time. No, I did all that this morning.”

Minnie’s face blanched and I bit back a laugh.

Back inside the warm kitchen, Minnie was a little less enthusiastic to help with dinner. “You can peel the carrots,” I said, handing her a peeler. “They don’t have feelings.”

“Very funny,” she mumbled.

Martha pulled her hair back in pale pink ribbon and hummed as she washed her hands. It was jarring to see the sweet girl pull out a knife as long as her forearm and masterfully begin butchering the chicken.

“What are you going to make?” I asked, unable to pull my eyes from the carcass.

Her knife hovered over the joint between the leg and the body and she chopped down. The crunch of the cartilage made me jump. She eyed the other leg joint and chopped again before answering. “Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and carrot slaw. I already made the apple pies and we have biscuits left over from this morning.” She lined up her knife with the breastbone of the chicken, steadied it with her other hand and hopped up to press down with her whole body.

“Wow, you really are a Martha,” I said under my breath.

She was quick and efficient in the kitchen, cleaning up messes and throwing away garbage and washing dishes as she worked. I hoped she wasn’t used to working in silence because Minnie wasn’t going to let her have any.

“So how come you’re here?” was her first question.

Martha looked up from adding shortening to a cast iron skillet. The question the question seemed to make her uncomfortable but she was too polite not to answer. “Oh, um, my mom died when I was quite young. I didn’t have any other family from my mom’s side.”

“What about your dad? Or his family?” I couldn’t help but notice how Minnie said the word “dad” as if it were four letters instead of only three.

Martha shook her head. “Dad knew my mom wanted me with her family. I see him sometimes.”

The potato I was peeling squeaked out of my hand. “Are you serious?” I asked. “You had to come here away from your dad just because of the whole dream—”

Martha cut me off with a panicked look and jabbed her wooden spoon in Minnie’s direction.

I stopped myself from rolling my eyes but couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “Is he not a good dad or something?”

“Yeah, is he not good?” Minnie echoed with haunted eyes. My heart hurt for her.

“No, he’s fine,” Martha said, not catching our dark undertones. She paused to adjust the burner under her skillet, seemingly unaware of how important our question was. “He just works a lot and has a lot of responsibilities. Plus he lives in Lansing and if I lived with him it would be in the city and that would be terrible.”

Hemlock Bay was more of a town than a city but I still took slight offense at her words. “What would be so wrong with that?” I asked.

She seesawed her head while rolling more chicken parts through her flour mixture. “Nothing, I suppose, if you like that sort of thing. But it’s so loud and new and grimy. It’s big and I just feel so … antique when I’m there.” She shook her head and dumped pieces of chicken into her skillet. “None of those things make sense to me. Even if my dad is there,
here
is where I want to be, on this land, with my gardens and horses and chickens. I just like it here,” she said, her eyes glazing over a little. “I hope I don’t ever have to leave.”

“Me too,” echoed Minnie.

I said nothing.

Martha poked the chicken pieces with her wooden spoon and soon a tasty aroma began filling the kitchen. We worked together quickly to finish dinner and my stomach was protesting loudly the whole time.

The aunts made their way into the kitchen, their noses leading the way. “Smells amazing,” Hazel murmured to no one in particular.

Minnie set the table and Martha rearranged everything she had set down. “The edge of the butter knife goes in,” I heard her mutter.

What a worthless piece of trivia, I thought.

When all the dishes of food were placed on the table, we all sat down. I folded my hands together and lowered my head. All around me I heard the scrape of silverware on dishes.

“Eat up,” Viola said, nudging me with her elbow.

I raised my head and opened my eyes to find them all dishing food onto the plates. For a second I thought I was confusing my religions. “Um, I thought you guys were Mormon.”

“Mennonite,” Martha said, her potato filled fork halfway to her mouth. Okay, so I
was
confused. And apparently so were they.

“Right. So aren’t you supposed to pray before you eat?”

Hazel smiled apologetically and put down her fork. “Of course we should, we’d be happy to do that with you.”

I frowned, my plate still empty before me. “No, I mean, aren’t you guys religious if you’re Mennonites? You wear the clothes; I assumed you went along with the rest of it too.”

“What do you mean the rest of it?” Martha asked politely.

I looked from one sister to the other. “I’m pretty sure most religious organizations pray before they eat. Explain to me how you wear the clothes but don’t pray before meals.” I wasn’t the only one keeping secrets.

Hazel sighed. “Right, about that. See, we aren’t so much Mennonite spiritually as we are … conveniently.”