Ravensong (Green Creek 2)

“Who would have guessed,” Abel said dryly. Then, “Tethers aren’t just for wolves, Gordo. We’re called by the moon, and there is magic in that. Like there is magic in you.”

“From the earth.”

“Yes. From the earth.”

It hit me then, what he was trying to say. “I need a tether too?” It was an immensely terrible thought.

“Not yet,” Abel said, sitting forward. “And not for a long time. You’re young and just beginning. Your marks haven’t been completed. Until they are, you won’t require one. But one day you will.”

“I don’t want it to be just one person,” I said.

My father turned. He had a strange look on his face. “And why is that?”

“Because people leave,” I said honestly. “They move or they get sick or they die. If a wolf had a tether and it was a person and they died, what would happen to the wolf?”

The only response was the ticking of the clock on the wall.

Then Abel chuckled, eyes crinkling kindly. “You are a fascinating creature. I’m so very happy to know you.”

“I DIDN’T know about tethers,” I told my father as we left the Bennett house. “For witches.”

“I know. There is a time and place for everything.”

“Is there other stuff you haven’t told me?”

He wouldn’t look at me. Some kids ran by us, laughing as they growled at each other. He sidestepped them deftly. “Yes. But you will learn, one day.”

I didn’t think that was fair, but I couldn’t say so to my father. Instead I said, “Who’s your tether? Is it Mom?”

He closed his eyes and turned his face toward the sun.

“HOW COULD you?” I heard her say, voice tight and harsh. “Why would you do this to me? To us?”

“I didn’t ask for this,” my father said. “I never asked for any of this. I didn’t know she would get—”

“I could tell her. I could tell everyone. What you are. What they are.”

“No one would believe you. And how would that look for you? They would think you’re crazy. And it would be used against you. You would never see Gordo again. I’d make sure of it.”

“I know you’ve done something to me,” my mother said. “I know you’ve messed with my mind. I know you’ve altered my memories. Maybe this isn’t real. Maybe none of this is real. It’s a dream, an awful dream from which I can’t awake. Please. Please, Robert. Please let me wake up.”

“Catherine, you’re—this is unnecessary. All of this is. She’ll leave. I promise. Until it’s done. You can’t go on like this. You just can’t. It’s killing you. It’s killing me.”

“Like you care,” she said harshly. “Like you give a damn about anything that isn’t her—”

“Lower your voice.”

“I won’t. I won’t be—”

“Catherine.”

The voices fell away as I pulled the comforter over my head.

“YOUR MOTHER isn’t feeling well,” Father said. “She’s resting.”

I stared at their closed bedroom door for a long time.

SHE SMILED at me. “I’m fine. Honey, of course I’m fine. How could anything be wrong when the sun is shining and the sky is blue? Let’s have a picnic. Doesn’t that sound lovely? Just you and me, Gordo. I’ll make little sandwiches with the crusts cut off. There’s potato salad and oatmeal cookies. We’ll take a blanket and watch the clouds. Gordo, it’ll be just you and me and I’ll be the happiest I’ve ever been.”