sparrow and lion

Chapter 26: home

There was a blade made of bone in Leo's pocket.

It had plagued her, at first: The fact that she was powered by sin. Trying to do the right thing left her all but paralyzed. Kindness ached like the wounds she had slashed into her own flesh to punish herself. Even now, she felt the wet heat rolling down her skin. It was her penance for tricking Wren. It was the wrong that cancelled out the right of freeing him from his part of this bargain.

Wren had thought Leo meant she would return to the estate when she promised to go home. She had known he'd believed it when she'd made that pledge, but she had made it anyway. That had been wrong. And now she was here and he was safe.

Life was such a complicated set of scales and balances.

Deception is not always an outright lie, but it is almost close enough to count. Every witch knew this, of course, but most used it to others' disadvantage. They spun pretty webs of words that could trap and entangle. When you could not lie, you simply wove truths together wrongly instead. But Leo had learned something long ago: Deception was wrong. And, with the curse, she may not be able to do the right thing, but she could always do the wrong one.

"I sent him away," Leo said. "With a promise."  Somewhere behind her, her anxious hound was whimpering. It was hard to keep the triumphant grin from spreading cross her lips She waited for the weather witch's inevitable rage.

But the weather witch looked unimpressed.

Time seemed to slow down. Something in her dropped. Tomorrow she came of age. It was her wedding day. Surely her own mother knew that. The fact that Leo was here and Wren was far away should have discomfited the witch. His life could not be ripped from him to grant her power at a distance. He was safe. She was doomed. She had come this far to doom her mother, too.

But, somehow, this moment felt wrong. The weather witch should be enraged. But she wasn't. Instead she looked pleased.

The hound whined louder.

"You look troubled, child," the weather witch said. She was smiling. She reached out her hand and clutched Leo's chin between her sharp nails. "Don't you remember what I told you? Perhaps it bears repeating?"

"No need." Leo tried to yank her chin away, but her mother's fingers held her too tightly. They dug into Leo's skin like talons. She felt trapped. She was afraid. She remembered clearly why she had run away to live on the streets. Her mother's power ripped through her. How had she forgotten this? It felt like Leo's heart was breaking. A void opened in her chest. She wanted to collapse. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to enter a bakery and devour every loaf of bread. She needed to fill this hole.

Leo didn't know she was crying until the witch wiped a tear from her cheek. The weather witch smiled at her. "Oh, sweet child, you can have anything you want if you just say the word. It is yours. Now for my price. I claim his life."

The crunch of snow under feet came from behind her. But it didn't matter. Leo didn't have to turn around to see who it was. She already knew. She closed her eyes. "He promised," she said.

"Yes," the weather witch said. "He did. But you forgot the most important question."

Leo's eyes opened. Wren staggered to a stop beside her. His breathing was ragged. It had been days, but blood still trickled from where she had struck him. Had he followed her all the way here without pausing to care for his wound? She didn't understand.

"Tell me, dear," the weather witch said to Wren. "Where is your home?"

Slowly and silently, his eyes dazed, Wren turned to look at Leo in answer.