He could almost hear Jeremy’s voice in his head, the voice from the dream…
Time to go.
Rafe grabbed the painting and carried it back to his truck. He drove straight to his cabin.
When he arrived, a white Prius covered in bumper stickers that said things like Adopt Don’t Shop and Who Rescued Who? sat in his driveway. Not Jeremy’s car. From the size of her footprints, he guessed a girl.
He followed her tracks—she’d stomped right through the brush—into his fenced-off backyard, and there she was, a young woman with long blond hair dyed pink at the ends. She wore boots and leggings, a sweater, and a jacket like she was about to hike for days. He didn’t want to scare her if she was just lost.
He walked up to her, but she kept her back to him.
“Hey, you need help?” Either she didn’t hear him or didn’t care that she wasn’t alone anymore. Her gaze was transfixed on his wood carving of the girl with the crown of antlers.
“Are you Rafe?”
“Yeah, who are—”
She turned and looked at him. Then he looked at the carving of the girl.
She pointed at the sculpture. “My name’s Emilie. And that’s my sister.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. She held out her phone to him, displaying a photograph of a girl wearing the same clothes with the same eyes and the same Greek nose.
“She’s sure,” Jeremy said.
Rafe turned around, and there was Jeremy, who must have been right behind him on the road.
“You got the painting,” Jeremy said. A statement, not a question. He walked over to them.
“I got it.”
“You can still punch me if you want,” Jeremy said. “If it’ll make you feel better.”
“It would,” Rafe said. Fifteen years of loneliness, anger, helplessness…it came out in one punch to Jeremy’s ribs. A good punch. All knuckle.
Jeremy stumbled forward, and Rafe caught him and lowered them both to the ground. Behind him Emilie gasped.
“Tell me one thing,” Rafe said into his ear. “One thing about when we were gone. One thing I can believe.”
After a labored breath, Jeremy said, “We were gone so long because you didn’t want to come back.”
Yes, he could believe that. He stood back and held out his hand. Jeremy took it, and Rafe pulled him to his feet.
“All right, come in,” Rafe said. He looked at Emilie, staring at him in shock. “You too.”
Storyteller CornerElsewhere
Your Storyteller has it on excellent authority that while all this was going on, a queen in a faraway kingdom—as far away as And they lived happily ever after is from Once upon a time—knelt on the floor of her library surrounded by splintered wood and shattered glass. A red crow landed on a purple velvet cushion where, for fifteen years, a book had rested inside a locked treasure box, but now the box was empty.
“What news, my spy?” the queen asked.
The crow sang the queen her secrets.
“Oh, not him. Anyone but him. I was afraid of that.” She sighed heavily, wearily. “But who else would want to steal it but him?”
The crow sang another song full of secrets, for in this world, crows didn’t simply caw. They saw. They saw, and they sang of what they saw. And the song the crow sang was one that said the world was about to change. Lost ones were coming home, but before they could feast in celebration, they must fight.
Chapter Seven
Rafe got three beers from the fridge and a bag of frozen peas for Jeremy. He lay stretched on the sofa, and Rafe tossed him the peas.
“Here,” he said. Rafe wasn’t proud of himself for how hard he’d punched Jeremy. But no denying, it had been a good punch.
Jeremy lifted his shirt to reveal a red bruise. “Ah, nice. It’s like that red storm on Jupiter.”
“It’s not nice.” Emilie glared at Rafe. “You don’t go around punching people when they annoy you.”
“Princess?” Jeremy said. “Welcome to West Virginia.”
“I miss Ohio.”
Rafe looked at her and said, “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?” she asked. She was perched on the arm of the sofa by Jeremy’s head. Behind her, he mouthed, Say yes.
“Yes?” Rafe said.
