She says, “You should have told me before.” She sits down on the ground again. “He was a bully, a Hunter. But he was my brother.” She wipes her eyes and says, “I wish the world was different. I wish he’d been different.” She starts crying again.
And I wrap her up in my arms and hold her and she cries and eventually she stops and is still, her breathing steady. I lie with her, looking at her, kissing her cheek as gently as I can, and I whisper to her that I love her, that I don’t want to hurt her. I fall asleep holding her.
I wake. It’s gone cold. Annalise is sitting up. I reach for her hand but she slides it away, saying, “Kieran was a great fighter. The best, everyone said. My father said Kieran would never get killed because of his Gift. So how did you beat him?”
I’ve told Annalise what my Gift is but I’ve never explained it. Whenever she asks I change the subject. I’ve never told her what it feels like or that I’ve killed anyone or anything when I’m an animal.
“Tell me, Nathan.”
“It’s hard to explain.”
“Try.”
“I transformed into an animal. I could hear Kieran. Sense him, even though he was invisible. We fought. He stabbed me.”
“And what did you do to him?”
“Annalise, don’t ask these things, please.”
Annalise starts crying again. “My father once told me that Marcus transformed to kill. To steal Gifts. He took the same Gift, invisibility, from another White Witch. It’s a handy Gift to have.”
“I didn’t take Kieran’s Gift, Annalise.”
She looks into my eyes and I can see she’s not sure.
“Would you really tell me if you had?”
“Yes! I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“You’ve been hiding the truth from me for weeks.”
“I’ve said I’m sorry about that, Annalise. And I’ll tell you again, I’m sorry. I should have told you about Kieran before.”
“Yes, you should have. And you should have told me about your Gift. It’s the most important aspect of being a witch; we always agreed that it reflects what a person is really like, but you never talk about it. Even now you’ve hardly told me anything. You’re more like your father every day.” She gets up and says, “I need to be on my own for a while. Need to think.” And she walks away.
I sit up and get the fire going again, watch it, and wait for Annalise to come back but she doesn’t.
A Walk
The next day Gabriel and Celia aren’t at morning training. When we break for lunch Celia comes over to me and asks me to walk with her and Gabriel. I think it’s something to do with Annalise.
We go into the trees away from everyone and she says, “I’ve asked Gabriel to come with us because I thought he should tell you.”
I look over at him. He’s hanging back and I can tell from his face what it’s about. It’s nothing to do with Annalise. It’s either Arran or Deborah.
I feel sick.
Gabriel comes over to me; at least he’s going to tell me.
“It’s Deborah.”
And I know she’s dead.
“They executed her two days ago. She was shot for spying. They killed her husband too, for helping her.”
And it’s so wrong. So wrong. She was clever and good and a great White Witch. And I know they’ll have questioned her, tortured her. And it’ll have been bad. And I’m so angry and I want to hit things but Gabriel is holding me. And I don’t know what to do but there’s nothing I can do about it, about any of it. It’s too late for Deborah and I want to see her again and I can’t ever and I can’t even think of her being happy and I hate them for that. I hate them.
With Arran
I haven’t seen my brother for over two years but I recognize him easily. He’s tall and handsome and everything you’d expect of a White Witch. He walks into camp with a group of Whites and Half Bloods. They all look tired but relieved to have arrived at their destination. Arran doesn’t seem relieved. It’s a few days since I found out about Deborah. I was told that Arran knows.
I’m standing in the trees, watching, and now I move half a step to the left so that he’ll spot me. I’ve so wanted to see him, to be with him again, but this is not how I wanted it. He’ll be feeling Deborah’s loss more than me.
It’s another minute before he glances my way and then he freezes. I see he says my name and he smiles and I think I smile as he comes toward me. We embrace. He’s thinner than I expected and not as tall, though still taller than me.
He says lots of things about missing me and maybe I say things, I’m not sure. He tells me Deborah was doing what she believed in and he cries a lot and I do too. And I’m thinking of when all three of us were together, tussling for room to brush our teeth in the bathroom, and her brushing her hair in the mornings on the landing and listening to me and Arran talking, and then I remember us all having breakfast together with Gran. It was only three years ago. I feel like I’m so old and yet Deborah was so young and none of it is fair and none of it makes sense.