Wildcat Fireflies (37 page)

“Maybe. Hunting trouble.”

“Should I warn Ms. Asura?” I asked, my stomach clenching at the thought.

Nicole blanched. “Uh, no. Have I taught you nothing? That one can take care of herself. Go to the Feast. Find Meridian
and Tens. They’re probably with a glassblower named Rumi, the man you met before. Mistress won’t recognize you. That’s what the costume is for.”

“Really? How do you know this stuff?”

“Magic.” Nicole smiled. “Just a guess. Come on. Go. I’ll handle here.”

“But—”

“Juliet, you have to know the truth. Go.”

I put on the pioneer costume and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. I saw a different girl who lived a different life. I needed to find Meridian.

Could my mother really be out there? Does she love me?

T
he party was in full swing by the time I caught a ride on the back of a Chevy truck hauling hay and revelers toward the light and crowds. No one blinked at my costume; one of the guys even commented that I looked right out of
Little House on the Prairie
. I guessed that was a good thing. I waved thanks and hopped off on the fringes of the grounds. I tugged the brim of the bonnet farther over my face to shield my identity and stave off the cold.

The fort was lit up in the dark of night with what seemed like every spotlight in the world, including the fullest moon I’d ever been under. I’d never seen so many people gathered together. It’s not possible to grow up here and not know about the Feast—that and the Indy 500 car race were in the blood of Hoosiers—but I’d never been. To either. Never even dreamed of attending.

I joined the stream of people herding toward the strobes and the noise of multiple bands. Some people were costumed like me, while others were in military uniforms or jeans and flannels, even yuppie slacks and sweaters. The diversity of the crowd was too much to take in. I was a foreigner in my own backyard.

The aroma of grilling meat and the crackle of fat filled the air. My stomach growled. People gnawed on enormous turkey legs and breaded pork tenderloin sandwiches. Spits of whole pig roasted over fires and long grill stands were covered with flocks of chickens splayed for cooking. Spicy apple cider warmed in huge cast-iron cauldrons. Everywhere around me people laughed, danced, and played. I felt myself relaxing, enjoying the festival atmosphere.

I wandered the food stalls, my stomach reminding me I hadn’t eaten yet today. I had no money. I watched someone toss a half-eaten drumstick and roasted corncob into the trash pile and inched toward it.

Someone bumped me from behind and I lost my nerve. I twirled toward whoever had pushed me and saw a trio of black-robed priests in big floppy black hats propelling through the crowd as if they were late to a meeting with God.
Rude
.

I checked faces, especially those of tall men, searching for Tens among the people who towered over the crowd. I thought I might spot him faster than Meridian; she was shorter than me. I kept moving through the throngs and groups.

I turned down an artist alley as a band started playing a bluegrass tune that had the whole place tapping toes and dancing. I smiled, the joy contagious; it lightened my burden, my questing for truth.

Up ahead a booth with swirling glass stars twinkled, calling to me. The giant who’d brought the colored papers to DG called out to customers, joking and cajoling. Rumi? Nicole had mentioned he might know where to find Meridian. As I neared him, the light grew brighter. He quickly scanned the area; his face broke into wide delight when he saw me approaching.

I drew back, hesitating, afraid for a moment this was a mistake. A terrible, horrible mistake.

He motioned me toward the back wall of the booth, so I scooted quickly around, out of eyesight.

“You’re a brave one tonight, aren’t you?” Rumi peeked his head around the fabric.

I shrugged, unable to make my tongue work.

“I’m guessing you’re here to see my other angel friend?”

My expression must have shown my confusion, because he took pity on me and stopped speaking in riddles.

“Meridian is taking a break from working in here with me, grabbing victuals with her beau, Tens. If you go two rows over, they’re under those trees. They want to help you, so
trust ’em if you can.” He pointed. “You’ll find ’em eating and drinking, pretending not to be worried about the evils in our world, for my sake.”

I nodded and turned toward where he’d pointed.

“Wait, lassie.” Rumi reached into his pockets and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. “Buy yourself food too.”

“No—I can’t take—”

“You’ll blend in better if you at least try to look like you’re enjoying yourself.”

I stepped forward, accepting the money. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back.”
Somehow
.

He winked, then disappeared back toward the front of the booth. I heard his voice engage customers, talking about the good luck Spirit Stones brought. And didn’t they catch the light beautifully?

I bought a skewer of chicken. I was so hungry that I ate it before I’d reached the next stall. I think it tasted good.

I picked up my pace, reminding myself that I was here for answers, not to eat. I spotted Tens leaning against the trunk of a tree, his arms wrapped around Meridian as they swayed to the music.

I walked closer, lifting the edge of my bonnet until Tens made eye contact and nodded at me in recognition. Meridian’s eyes were closed and I heard sirens at the edge of the music. Tens waited until her eyes opened and then he whispered in her ear. I saw her search for me and smile when she found me.

She motioned with her head and we walked away from the music toward the remains of the fort and the French
soldiers camping there. Tens stayed a step behind us. It seemed as though he was playing the role of bodyguard.

“You got my message yesterday?” she finally said when we were far enough away from the crowd and the stage that conversation was possible.

I shrugged. “This morning. Bodie told me. Is it true?”

Meridian claimed an empty set of rocking chairs tucked under the umbrella of an old black walnut tree. She motioned to me to sit down.

I sat next to her and Tens stood with his back to the tree, watching the people around us, his hands shoved deep in his coat pockets.

I repeated, “Is it true?”

She nodded. “Sort of.”

“What do you mean? You said when I had questions you had answers. I’m asking.”

“I know, but it’s complicated.”

“You either met my mother or you didn’t.” My voice carried.

“I did.” She nodded, trying to keep eye contact but failing. She bit her bottom lip.

“Where is she?” I asked.

“She’s safe.”

I rose out of the chair. “I don’t want to play games.”

“I know. I’m trying.” She looked lost. “Can we start with an easier question?”

“Can you explain photographs to me? Why don’t I show up in them?”

“That’s easier.” Tens snorted behind us.

“You’re like me. We’re related.”

“Related?”
Like a sister? A cousin?

“I don’t show up in photographs either. I didn’t. Because of what, of who, we are.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We’re Fenestra. We help souls get to heaven. We’re the light they see as they die.”

“Now you’re insane, telling stories.” I stood up and backed away, turning, ready to run.
This is why I snuck out of DG and risked brutal retribution for disobeying?

“It’s no story. That’s why your mom is dead.”

I stopped, but didn’t turn.

Meridian walked over to me and lowered her voice. “She died protecting you and I met her when I helped a soul cross the window.”

All my wishes evaporated, leaving me empty and helpless. I thought for a moment, just a tiny moment, that my mom was coming to get me and this would all be a nightmare. I’d wake up a little girl again.

“I’m sorry.” She touched my forearm and I flinched. “You’re why we’re here. We want to help you. There are people, bad people who want to hurt you—”

“More?” I turned, and let my anger take the reins. “There are more bad people? Do you have any idea what my life is like? What I’ve had to survive for a decade? There can’t be more. There aren’t more bad people to hurt me. They’ve taken everything and now you stand there and take the rest.”

“I’m trying to give you the truth, not take anything. Please. Please just listen: your birthday is not February tenth, but March twenty-first.”

“Oh, so now my birthday is wrong? Is my name even
Juliet? You want to tell me I’m some other girl? This isn’t my life?”

“Come with us, please—let us explain.”

“Are you high? Why would I go anywhere with you?” I yelled.

“You’re in danger. Your life is—”

“What? Over? When did it begin? What’s left to end? All I do is take care of children and the elderly. I don’t have a life.” I thought of Kirian. Of the dreams I’d once had. The future that seemed so distant and unimportant now.

“We want to help you get one. You have to trust us.” Tens stepped forward, his hand on Meridian’s shoulder seeming to brace her.

Jealousy ripped through me. I had no one at my back. No one putting a hand on my shoulder in comfort or in strength. I was the hand for so many others. “Don’t you understand I can’t leave? I can’t leave them all there. I can’t let that horrible woman break them. Beat them. Starve them. There’s no one else. Don’t you understand?”

“But you’re not
just
a foster kid.”

“Yes, I am. I am
just
a kid who no one wanted.”

“That’s what we’re telling you. That’s not true. You’re a Fenestra and—”

“Prove it.”

She shrank as if I’d punched her. “I can’t. Not yet. You have to believe me.”

“I do?” I exhaled a pitiful laugh, “No, I don’t. You’re passing through town and you’re going to leave and I’m going to be stuck here and then what?”

“We’re not leaving town without you. People die around you, don’t they? Animals? Insects?”

“I live in a place where people go to die. Of course they die around me.”

“You know things about them. See things. You faint or black out and—” She inched into my space, right into my face.

“Meridian, stop.” Tens tried to quiet her. “This isn’t helping.”

“When you turn sixteen you’ll need my help. Or they’ll turn you and you won’t have a choice. Please—” Meridian sounded desperate.

“Just leave me alone.” I walked away, flinging back over my shoulder, “I’ve never had a choice!” I ran blindly toward the sea of people.

“Wait!” both Tens and Meridian yelled. I felt them running after me.

They gave chase, but I didn’t slow my steps. I darted behind a clothesline of a clothing vendor and grabbed a thick black wool cape. I draped it over my shoulders, twirling myself into the fabric, blending into the shadows until my heart rested and I’d evaded them.

I kept to the fringes of the crowd, losing myself among the revelers. I wasn’t ready to go back to DG, but I wasn’t prepared to have more crazy mumbo jumbo thrown at me. Special? Heaven? There was no heaven. No God. Nothing special about me. There couldn’t be, or this, none of this life, would have happened to me.

I saw another group of black-clad people that made my feet stutter. I paused. There was something about them,
something familiar, something primal I knew to keep my distance from.

In the firelight, I saw a man turn, and his profile looked achingly familiar, like Kirian’s. For a moment I almost called out to him, wanting to be held and comforted. But he leaned down and the recognition was gone. The black-clad group huddled, until seven people with matching backpacks joined them. I wondered if these were missionaries like the ones that came to DG to save us. I observed them all check watches or phones, and then most dispersed like cotton candy in a strong rain. Running urgently. Those left followed the others’ movements with their heads but stayed put. As if they were watching and waiting for something.

My feet wouldn’t move. I saw a woman with long black hair flowing over her shoulders and swirling around her face. I’d seen that jewelry before.
Ms. Asura? Dressed as a priest?
I edged closer, thinking Ms. Asura surely wasn’t here, dressed like that, acting oddly. Her long nails glinted like claws in the night. Couldn’t be.

At that moment, a blast rocked the far end of the grounds, moving the earth. I saw people glance at each other in confusion. I wondered if this was some form of military display until I heard the screams. Another blast, closer this time, shook the earth upon which I stood so much that I lost my balance.

I glanced back and saw the woman smile up at Kirian’s look-alike before they disappeared in the chaos. Fires caught and danced up the backs of stalls. A stampede of people headed in my direction. The screams intensified as
another blast shocked the world, changing joy to terror in a blink.

The priests headed directly into the crowd, heading straight toward the fires already burning, the screams of anguish, the chaos.

T
he first blast came from the direction of the stage. The stampede of people and screams came in the seconds after. “Oh God,” I whispered as the next explosion ripped the air.

“What?” Tens said, going on full alert. He turned to step in front of me, trying to shield me from whatever the threat was.

“Noc—” I managed to get part of the word out before I was hit by a sudden clamoring of souls. As I faded toward the window, I gripped Tens. Before long I stood at
the far end of the room, across from the window. Was this Nocti? Terrorists? A natural disaster? I could who-done-it later; right now I had to concentrate on the souls needing me.

This was bad, like the train disaster in Colorado. The sheer number of people could suck me through if I got too close to the edge of the window. I concentrated on stirring the breeze, watching the curtains, and keeping myself wide open, while protecting my own life’s energy. I knew Tens would protect my body to the best of his ability.