Artificial Night, An - Seanan McGuire Page 0,71
we were safely hidden by the shadows of the plains, I let myself cry. I’d have to stop before we reached the forest—the kids needed me to look strong—but for the moment, it helped.
Where the hell’s my hero?
SIXTEEN
JESSICA CAME RACING OUT OF THE TREES as we approached, already sobbing. She slammed into me and buried her face against my shoulder. I managed to brace myself enough to absorb the impact without falling over, but it was a close thing; we were too similar in size for that kind of collision to be comfortable. “Aunt Birdie!” she wailed, voice muffled. “I thought you weren’t c-coming back!”
I sighed, letting go of Quentin’s hand and stroking her hair. “I’ve been getting that a lot lately.” Spike came slinking out of the woods and sat by my feet, thorns bristling as it whined in the back of its throat. I understood the warning it was giving us; we couldn’t afford to dawdle. Blind Michael promised safety once we were out of his lands—or at least he’d promised safety for the kids I’d bargained for, and I didn’t want to consider what that might mean for the rest—but he’d never said anything about leaving us alone inside his borders.
“Are you back for keeps? Can we go home now?”
“I’m back.” I looked over Jessica’s head to watch Quentin guide Katie the last few yards.
Katie had fallen into brittle silence as we walked, using Quentin as much for guidance as for balance. The spell clouding her vision could only take so much abuse, and she could keep it alive longer if she refused to see what was going on. Smart girl. I wondered numbly whether Quentin realized she’d lost a shoe, and whether, if he did, he realized that it was because her feet were already broad and blackened, more than halfway to being hooves. The changes were continuing. They were slow, but they weren’t stopping.
“Come on,” I said, shifting Jessica so that she was just clinging to my arm. “We need to get back to the others.”
“And then we’ll go home?” whispered Jessica.
“Yeah, baby. Then we’ll go home.” I started walking, heading toward where we’d left the rest of the children. The word “home” seemed to give Jessica some of her confidence back, because she let go of me after a few steps, darting ahead and vanishing into the trees.
Raj and the others had been hard at work while we were away. Five of the older kids were busy lashing bundles of sticks together as they finished Helen’s litter, and there were sentries posted in the trees, almost invisible through the leaves until you walked under them. I smiled faintly. “Leave it to the Cait Sidhe to take to guerrilla warfare without blinking,” I said.
“What?” asked Raj, appearing accompanied by the smell of pepper and burning paper.
Quentin jumped, nearly knocking Katie over. I just shook my head. One good thing about spending years being tormented by Tybalt: I don’t surprise as easily as I used to where the Cait Sidhe are concerned.
“I was just saying that you seem to have things pretty organized,” I said, taking a better look around. The kids that Raj didn’t have on sentry duty or building a litter had mostly gone to sleep, pillowed in the leaves and clinging to one another. Those that were still awake but unoccupied were sitting with Helen, listening raptly as she spoke. From the way she was moving her hands, I guessed she was telling them a story, and for a moment, I almost envied her. Whether we lived or died, the pressure wasn’t on her. She was taking care of the children and leaving the heroics to Raj—and to me. Lucky us.
“Busy is easier than idle,” he said, one ear flicking back. Turning, he looked at Quentin and Katie, and frowned. “Is this your friend?” he asked.
Quentin nodded. “This is Katie.”
“I thought you said she was—”
“That’s enough,” I said. The spell I’d cast on Katie was keeping her from noticing the changes in her body—and don’t think I didn’t see the irony, considering what the Luidaeg had done to me—but it wasn’t going to stand up to someone questioning her humanity where she could hear it. “Raj, is the litter ready?”
“Almost,” he said, looking bemused.
“Good.” Andrew rose from the group around Helen when he heard my voice, walking over to take hold of my sweater. I sighed and stood a little straighter, sliding my arm around him. I had to be their hero whether