sun that streams in through the unroofed shack. Her skin is fair, though lined, her eyes shadowed under her hood.
“Quick now,” she says, voice brisk and certain despite the wobble in it. “Help me, girl. How is your water magic?”
Nimh is half-collapsed against the back wall—what little strength fear left her, surprise took. Blinking rapidly, she wobbles to her feet, croaking, “But—what … who …”
“Your water magic, girl!” The woman’s voice cracks like a whip, and my own muscles twitch to attention in response, though her eyes are on Nimh and have spared me not a glance. “I only have one more jar left, and there are too many of them for us to get from here to the edge of the village—can you create vapor from water?”
Nimh stares at her, mouth hanging open, as the woman pulls out a small glass jar filled with water. The moment stretches, until a faint sound from the other side of the door makes all three of us stiffen: the long, slow rasp of fingernails on rough wood.
Then, without any warning, a massive weight slams against the door. Wood splinters alongside the squeal of boards about to come apart.
The cloaked woman hesitates, hefting the jar in her hand. If she throws it at the door, she might buy us a few more moments before the shack gives way. But the howling outside now is coming from too many voices to count.
She lifts her head, her eyes falling for the first time on me. They widen, and she gives a little flinch, as if the sight of me looking back at her is a physical blow.
Then she turns and hurls the glass jar straight at Nimh.
My heart slams into my throat, and then time seems to stretch, the jar slowing as my eyes track it toward Nimh.
But no, time isn’t slowing at all; the jar is slowing, slowing, hovering …
“Take a deep breath,” says the cloaked woman, her voice suddenly nothing like the one she was using earlier. Where she was barking orders, now she could be trying to lull us to sleep. “Let your mind relax. Feel the sun on your hair. The breeze on your cheeks. Close your eyes, Nimh.”
She speaks with such familiarity, such easy care and warmth, that she reminds me for a moment of my mothers. Nimh must feel it too, for she does as the woman says, and closes her eyes. Neither of us ask how she knows who Nimh is.
For a moment, all is silent. I let my eyes go to the cloaked woman and find her watching Nimh with the strangest look on her face, one I can’t quite place.
Then Nimh lifts her head, opens her eyes, and the jar explodes.
I throw my arms up to shield my face, but when nothing strikes, I risk a look.
The shards of glass are all hovering in midair, forming a glittering sphere around the place the jar had been. The water is gone—or, rather, the water is everywhere. A dense fog fills the air, sliding through the cracks in the building, roiling out over the tops of the walls. It spreads so much farther than it should—farther than the amount in the jar would allow—down through the valley and up the other side.
A long, wailing chorus rises throughout the canyon, echoing on and on and on … until it fades, a last few moans lingering before silence falls.
The cloaked woman lets out a long breath. She speaks, her voice bright with relief. “Good girl.”
Nimh takes a staggering step to one side, leaning heavily on her staff. The glittering sphere, all that remains of the glass jar, drops out of the air to rain down onto the dirt floor. Nimh lifts her head with a shaky smile.
“Are they gone?” I ask, my voice coming out in a raspy croak.
The woman’s head turns toward me. Her hood must have fallen back when she threw the jar, for I can see her eyes now, framed by dark hair. She looks about my bloodmother’s age, with a round face and wide cheekbones. This time when she looks at me, she gives no sign of that strange recognition.
“Gone for now,” she says, straightening with a grimace and rubbing at one of her legs. “We have only a little time before the sun burns away this vapor, and they can return.”
“How did you know water would stop them?”
“The water is infused with fine shavings of sky-steel. Mist-wraiths are creatures made of magic. I hoped.”
“You …