to know it. Be. Fud. Ling.”
“I don’t think girls are befuddling. I think guys are. What’s with the whole wanting-to-be-outdoors-in-subzero-temperatures? Cooking on an open fire? Who wants to be at one with nature? I’d rather not be, thank you very much.” I cross my arms over my chest. “I mean, hunting? Fishing? Gross.”
“You used to fish. You never minded holding them wriggling worm bodies in your hands then. You liked getting mussed up. You used to scrape up the fish scales and put them on your thighs and watch the sun dance on them.”
“Yeah, but I …” “Grew up” is on my tongue, but it doesn’t come out, because suddenly I’m transported to that day I met him, on the river outside my house. I didn’t catch a fish then, didn’t hold one in my hands. Sure, I’d caught plenty before, and I was so angry at him for catching so many and letting them go. But how did he know I liked the mess? How did he know what I did with the scales? “You … watched me?”
“You’re the next Mistress. I’m a guide. Of course I watched you. Up till you left. Then I couldn’t watch you no more.”
“Oh, right,” I say, feeling disappointed, though I’m not sure why.
He laughs a little to himself. “You know, the funny thing was, I had a picture of you in my mind, all this time, of what you would look like grown up. And it was right.”
“That’s … Really?” I wonder what I look like to him. I wonder if he’s disappointed that I don’t like to fish anymore.
“Most days I wondered if I’d ever see you again. Thought you were gone for good. But I’m glad I got the chance to before I …” He looks away. “I’m glad I got the chance to.”
He grips the oars tighter, and I realize that there’s something on his mind. Something he’s not telling me. “Before you what?” I ask.
“Ain’t nothing.” And by the way he says it, I know it’s something. Something big.
By this point we’re at the shore. He jumps out of the boat and pushes it onto land.
I grab his arm. “You have to tell me. You’re sending me back and telling me not to get involved. But I am involved.”
He throws the oars back into the boat. “You’re a Mistress. We protect our Mistresses. End of story.”
“But you said it’s going to weaken my mother if she gives me life. How’s that going to protect her?”
“It would weaken her, yeah. But just as some things weaken her, other things can make her strong again. And I know you don’t get my allegiance to your momma, but I got to do this. For the kingdom.”
I stand there staring at him, uncomprehending. “Do … what, exactly?”
“I’ve been here long enough as it is. I made this decision long time ago. I’m giving her my power. My shine. I got a lot to give, you’ve noticed.”
“But … what? And then what happens to you?”
“I move on. Somewhere else.” He’s silent for a minute, studying me. “Look, Kiandra, I been here too long. And this, it’s a good thing. Something I should’ve done a while ago.”
“But so you’re saying that when I finally do come back here, as Mistress … you won’t be here?”
He raises an eyebrow. “That matter?”
“Well … I mean, yes. I like having a friend here.”
I don’t realize until he shakes it that he’s been extending his hand to me, to help me out of the boat. Even with his support, I stumble awkwardly, my boots sinking up to the laces in mud. Somehow, though Vi, with her unnatural strength, and I had a hard time carrying the body, Trey is able to heft it over his shoulder like it’s nothing. My hair, greenish and greasy, hangs down past his knees, its ends nearly scraping the ground.
I hear footsteps, and my mother is running down the path. “Hurry,” she says. “We have to do this now.”
Sure, Mom, you wouldn’t want to spend one more minute with me than you have to. I step forward and mumble, “Fine. What do I have to do?”
She stands in front of me. “Oh, Kiandra, it isn’t like that. Your father moved you away because he was afraid of losing you. He knew that the river consumed me, and that it called to me, and that I had visions that would wake me up screaming at night. He must have seen the same signs in