“What’s

he supposed to do, anyway?” asked Martha.

“Search me,” said the bandit. “Something Prue concocted.”

“It was decreed by the Council Tree,” said Esben. “That the true heir be reconstructed.” He looked at Carol and frowned. “We did that much, despite the odds. Don’t know what else we should do.”

“Let me go talk to him,” said Seamus. “I’ve had some experience cooling the heels of some of the younger bandits when they get in a state. I’ll slap some sense into him and we can be on our way.”

The bandit began to stand up, despite the unanimous calls for him to not do this, when Zita, who’d been silent up to now, spoke. “I’ll talk to him.”

“You?” said Seamus. “Not likely. This is all very simple. I’ll just—”

“Seamus, sit down,” said Carol firmly. The bandit eyed the blind man for a few moments before doing as he’d been directed. “Let the girl go.”

Zita flattened the front of her white dress—she’d long ago ditched her father’s Synodal gray robe—and stood. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to where the mechanical boy sat. She paused briefly by his side before sitting down on the ground beside his rock perch.

“Hi,” she said.

The boy didn’t respond.

“I’m Zita. I live near here.” She waved a hand, meaning to point out the direction of her neighborhood, but quickly realized that the landscape had been so transformed as to make it impossible to know which way her house was. “Or somewhere.”

Still no response; the boy’s eyes were fixed on the distant trees.

“I was the May Queen,” said Zita, at a loss for how to proceed. “That was pretty cool. I wore my crown today.” She pulled the thing from her head and studied it. “Seen better days, I guess.”

The boy glanced at the garland in her lap; it was the first sign of his attentiveness, and she tried to capitalize on it. “So, this is all kind of my fault. Bringing your mother back and all. I didn’t know that this other stuff was happening, all this stuff about rebuilding the cog and reviving you. I haven’t even met the girl who was making it all happen. Her name’s Prue. Sounds like a nice girl. She’s from the Outside.” She paused then, trying to find her way forward.

“I guess I’m saying that I can’t really know how you feel, but I know you’re upset. I mean, they said you removed the cog yourself, the first time. I can’t imagine, really, what you’re going through. And I think it sort of sucks that you were brought back to life the first time and you didn’t want it. But you have to understand where she was coming from. Your mother, I mean. She lost you. That’s so huge. And she had a chance to bring you back. What person wouldn’t do that? What person who loved another person so much wouldn’t do that?”

She found she was beginning to cry as she spoke. She fought back the tears, saying, “My mom died. Kind of out of nowhere. She was, like, there one day and gone the next. And I would’ve given anything to have her back. Anything. And when I met this spirit, your mother, and she was so desperate, you know? And it was like she’d experienced the same sort of loss as I had. We were kindred. I had to do what I did. In a weird way, I was bringing back my mom.”

The tears were flowing now. “I get the feeling she’s not back ’cause she wants to be. Like you. I think she’s angry, like you. And I might be going out on a limb here saying this, but I think she might be angry at herself. For doing what she did. And all she wants is to be forgiven. And you need to be that person to forgive her.”

“Why?” asked Alexei, an echo of his first declaration.

“Because she was freaked out. And she lost you. And she’s human.” She paused, then, before saying, “Or she was.”

The mechanical boy prince processed all this for several silent minutes. Zita was about to stand and walk away, her mission failed, when he spoke again. “If I do this, if I go to her, will you send me back?”

“What, like, take the cog out again?”

“Yes. Take it out. Destroy it. Unmake me.”

“If that’s what you want,” said Zita, though she knew she was out of her depth here. It just felt like the right response.

The boy heaved a long, rattling sigh and stared back out at the strange new world he found himself living in.

CHAPTER 31

Wildwood Regina

Their defense had been repelled; the tree had been toppled and the Periphery Bind broken. They all watched from their winged heights and despaired to see the Verdant Empress mount the fallen husk of the Council Tree and revel in her victory, her arms outstretched; she was not unlike a tree herself, with her branchy arms made from vines of ivy. From her new perch, she commanded her soldiers like a conductor beating out the time of a kinetic symphony.

Undaunted, the Wildwood Irregulars lit into their enchanted enemies with as much vigor as their energies would allow.

The gray afternoon gave way to evening; the great battle waged on.

Tags: Colin Meloy Wildwood Chronicles Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net