ONE NIGHT IN early October there was a sudden frost. Annie wanted to protect the last of her crop. She often continued to have fresh tomatoes at this time of year, which she used for spaghetti sauces long into the winter. She went out to lay plastic over the few tremulous vines that remained. When she looked up, she saw Elv climbing out of her window. She shinnied down the tree. Annie stayed perfectly still, hidden by leaves. She could hear the wind and the fluttering sound of the last few moths in the garden, luminous against the dark.
Elv was wearing a thin black blouse that clung to her breasts. She had on her black jeans. Despite the frost, she was barefoot. She began to run as soon as she touched the ground. For some reason Annie ran after her. She didn’t think, she merely acted. It was as though someone had pressed a button that had activated a spring and Annie had no choice but to go. Elv’s footsteps were muffled and she was surprisingly fast. Annie was out of breath in no time, but she went on, following her daughter. It seemed as if everyone in the world was sleeping, unaware that time was hurtling forward. Dogs barked in backyards. Though the leaves had begun to turn color, in the dark everything looked black.
Elv was headed to the parking lot of the convenience store. An old car was parked near a few locust trees that had grown up through the asphalt. The car engine was running and exhaust filtered into the dark. Annie stopped in a thicket of thorny briars. Her breath echoed inside her head. She was sweating even though the air was cold. She saw the car door open. A burst of loud music escaped. Once Elv climbed inside, the car pealed out, tires squealing. Annie stood in the brambles, breathing hard. She walked home slowly, a stitch in her side. There were boys inside the car. No one local. No one Annie recognized. She thought she’d heard Elv laugh.
When she got home, the kitchen light was turned on. Annie had a surge of hope—maybe Elv had been dropped off and was already back—but when she went inside only Meg and Claire were waiting. They had made a pot of tea.
“Did you find her?” Meg asked.
Annie shook her head. She went to sit with the girls. Claire got her mother a wet paper towel. The brambles had left scratches. Her forehead and arms were bleeding.
“Thank you,” Annie said.
“She’s using ice,” Meg told their mother.
“What?” Annie looked at her daughters. They had school in the morning. They shouldn’t be up in the middle of the night. Claire was only thirteen and Meg was fifteen.
“It’s methamphetamine,” Meg explained. “Brian Preston’s sister Heidi told us. He used to go to our school till he got kicked out.”
Meg and Claire sat close together, knees touching. They had united and were turning Elv in even though they knew they would surely pay for their disloyalty. Elv wasn’t the forgiving type. “Je ne sprech suit ne rellal har,” Claire had overheard Elv say when Meg found the glass pipe and the packet of chalky powder. Say one word and I’ll make you regret it.
She had made them both promise, but they’d kept their fingers crossed behind their backs. They’d always learned their lessons from Elv, and that was how they’d learned to lie. Meg brought Elv’s backpack to their mother. If they didn’t stop her, she wouldn’t stop herself.
Meg had convinced Claire it was the right thing to do, but even now Claire wasn’t certain. She’d had trouble sleeping of late. She was afraid that Justin Levy’s ghost would appear at their window, still searching for Elv. She thought about demons and women with black wings. On the terrible day, she had waited at the corner by the stop sign for hours. She had been covered with blackfly bites. She would have waited a thousand years before she went home without her sister.
If we don’t help her, no one will, Meg had whispered tonight. It’s now or never.
Claire imagined that Elv was calling for her, unable to speak or form words, but summoning her in silence, using the spell meant for the most desperate of times. Reuna malin. Rescue me. There was no other choice. That’s why they were waiting when their mother came home. They had come to tell her the truth about Elv, even though they knew that once they did, nothing would ever be the same.
Iron
We only wanted to look at him. We set the trap in the meadow. It had metal bars and a gate that slammed shut whenever footsteps crossed the threshold. People barely believed in him anymore, but we did. We’d seen his shadow.
We caught him the first time out.
We thought it was luck. We thought it was fate. We were proud of ourselves.
There he was, hiding from the sunlight. Crows circled overhead.
He didn’t move, so we poked him with sticks. We were afraid that if we opened the gate he would run, so we watched him all through the day.
Tell us your name, we said. We knew if he did he’d be ours forever.
He said nothing. Perhaps he couldn’t speak.
He was growing paler. He looked like moonlight. He was so beautiful we couldn’t stop looking at him. We watched him all day long.
Tell us, we asked, again and again.
He said nothing until he disappeared, curled up like a leaf, gone. We heard clearly that his name was sorrow, and now it was ours forevermore.
THEY WENT ON A SUNDAY. IT WAS THE HEIGHT OF THE FALL foliage season, and they were driving to New Hampshire. Everything was red and yellow. The whole world was shimmering. The other girls were brought along so that nothing would seem amiss. Family time. Nothing more. An adventure into the countryside. It was rare for Alan to spend even an hour with his ex and the girls, let alone an entire day. It was a stab at a new, more civilized approach to the divorce, that’s what Elv was told. In truth, Annie had to force Alan’s involvement—she’d fought and begged until at last he’d given in. Still, they must have been convincing, because there Elv was, in the backseat, sleeping. Every once in a while Annie could hear Claire and Meg whisper to each other in Arnish. They were worried, two anxious doves. Se sure gave ne? How much longer till we get there? Sela se befora. What if we’re wrong? Quell me mora. Don’t ask questions.