The lemonade was cold, and the day was hot. I shaded my eyes and looked over at Card, who sat cross-legged at the bottom of the damn pecan tree.
We hadn’t talked about the tattoos we shared yet. Hadn’t talked any more about his sister.
After our encounter with Fate this morning, I thought we both needed to do something that felt normal. So I’d made lemonade and babbled about the shop I needed to get back to building.
Card had listened and offered to talk to the tree that was growing too close to where I wanted to build the shop. He thought he could convince it to sort of lean the other way until the branches were high enough to clear the roofline.
Before I’d even had a chance to agree, he’d started walking that way.
I thought maybe he needed the down time, alone time, green time.
It was a lot to have been the target of Fate.
It was a lot to have almost lost his heart tree.
And it was a lot to find out his sister was still alive, but sleeping, in that deep hibernation into which dryads sometimes lapse.
I found a spot in the shade and sat on the sawhorse, placing the other glass of lemonade on the board that bridged across to the other sawhorse.
“So, Fate didn’t kill you,” Val said. He was sitting on the ground, leaning back on his arms, his wolf belly down and asleep next to him.
“Not sure that was ever on the table.”
“With a god?”
“Okay, yeah, it was probably on the table. But, as you can see: not dead.”
“What about his tree?”
“Safe, as far as we know. I mean, it’s more at risk from Stel knowing where it is, but he has ways to protect it from her magic.”
“Good. Good.”
Time slipped by on the buzz of wings, on the hush of wind, in the stir of leaves. I sipped lemonade and felt the tension that had been knotting my shoulders for the last couple days loosen.
“What about Card?” Val asked.
“What about him?”
“Is he staying? Going?” Val tipped his head, and his gaze was frank. “You don’t like him. Don’t want him around. But he’s got those tattoos...”
I hummed and swallowed lemonade to give myself a moment to think. Those things weren’t true anymore.
I did like Card. I did want him around.
The tattoos though, yes, we needed to talk about that.
I needed to make a decision: Let the tattoos stay, let the link between our magics, between him and me and the Crossroads remain, or cut those ties now, permanently.
“We’ll find out,” I said. “As soon as he gets done talking to the tree.”
“There’s going to be a meeting tonight.”
“Oh?”
“The pack. Danube wondered if I’d stop by.”
“Will you?”
He tipped his head up, staring at the sky. “I think so.”
“If you want me to go with you, I will.”
He smiled, his eyes still on the blue above. “I know. But I’m just going to see what’s up.”
“And talk to him.”
“Maybe. A little.”
“Good.”
Val stood, and glanced over at Card again. “You okay with him for a bit?”
“I’m fine. Go. Talk to your brother.”
“Call me. You know I can be here in an instant.”
I nodded and made shooing motions with my hand. “I’ll come looking for you if you don’t check in.”
“Fine. Have fun while I’m gone. But, you know, not too much fun.” He grinned and it was all wolf. Then he blinked out of existence.
I finished off my lemonade, enjoying the quiet. I was thinking about drinking the glass I’d brought out for Card when the wind picked up, rattling through the branches, and the tree Card sat under bent, fluid and easy, as if pulled gently by the breeze.
The crown of branches shifted away from the shop space and stayed there. It hadn’t been so much magic that made the tree move this time, just pure dryad persuasion.
The wind died down. The air settled with heat and moisture again, making the day heavy, drowsy.
Card finally stood, brushed off his knees and butt, stuck his hands in his back pockets, and strolled my way.
“The tree understands,” he said. “She’s happy to grow a little more that way so you can build the shop. I promised her you’d hang a wind chime on her branch. She likes the idea of music that isn’t bird music.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Your reward is one slightly tepid glass of lemonade.”
He grinned and picked up the glass, then downed it in one go.
“So, what are you going to do next?” I asked. “Continue looking for your sister?”
He turned and sat on the other sawhorse, staring out at the shop foundation and the trees beyond. “Fate says she’s sleeping. Rooted. If I haven’t been able to feel her or find her yet, I don’t think I’ll be able to find her until she wakes.”
Both worry and a little bit of hope threaded his words. But he seemed calm, and much more centered than when he’d first shown up on my doorstep just a day ago.
“Until then?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I’m decent with a hammer and know how to use a saw. I could clean the gutters. Help you install that trapdoor to the basement.”
“For the bodies?”
“For the bodies.”
The quiet between us stretched, making the unspoken question loud: Was he staying? Did he want to build a life here? Would I let him?
“Let’s talk about the tattoos,” I said.
“Okay.”
“The Crossroads doesn’t mind being connected to you. It doesn’t mind knowing where you are.”
“But?”
“But that means I’ll know where you are too. I think I could pull magic from you, and that’s not equal, since you can’t draw magic from the Crossroads.”
“Maybe. We haven’t tried doing much with the link yet. The Crossroads knows where I am?” He gave me a sideways glance.
“Always. Like I said, it’s happy about that. It likes being connected to you.”
“I don’t mind if the Crossroad wants to think of me as a random bit of magic that drifted up on the side of the road.”
I smiled, because that was how the Crossroads thought of him.
“We’re linked too, Card,” I said, tired of beating around the bushes. “The tattoos...well, I guess we’ve always been linked because of the tattoos, but now even more so.”
He nodded, his hand landing over his wrist, clasping the ghostly lock tattoo there.
“What do you think about that?” I asked.
“I think it’s your call. You know I’m not always...reliable. You know I have to move, have to visit my tree. I tend to get mixed up in some pretty heavy shit. Lose track of time.”
“Obviously,” I said dryly.
“The wizards on both sides of the war are going to want my head on a pike. Or want my magic to bend to their will. Now that Stel found me here, there’s nothing to keep other attackers away.”
“I’m here. I’m not afraid of wizards.”
He slid me a smile. “Obviously.”
“If it’s up to me,” I said, “I want you to stay, if you want to stay. I might still be in love with you, so you should take that into consideration.”
He held his breath for a moment. I knew he was surprised at my admission, but had heard the peace offering. More than that, had heard the truth in it.
“Well, I might have never stopped loving you,” he said quietly. “So. For your consideration.”
“Consider it considered,” I said.
He nodded, then we both just stared out at the tree, letting those declarations settle between us.
I thought he was right. The tree needed a windchime.
“How big’s the shop gonna be?” he asked.
“Don’t know yet,” I said. “Plans keep changing.”
He pushed away from the sawhorse and moved to stand in front of me. “Want any help?”
Lachesis had said I might not like some of my allies. But she hadn’t told me that I might instead love one.
“Yeah, yes,” I said, clearing my throat. “I think it’s time for you and me to get to know each other again, Card. When we aren’t being chased by wizards and seers and rougarous.”
“And the tattoos?” he asked, catching one of my hands and linking our fingers.
“Yeah, you’d better keep those. With all the trouble you get into, someone in this world should know where you are.”
“Is that someone you?”
“That someone is me.”
“Good,” he said. “That’s all I need.”
“Don’t know what you’re smiling about,” I said. “I’m gonna make you man the shovel and post hole digger.”
“Do I get paid in lemonade?”
“Weak lemonade. Without enough sugar.” I stood, and we were in each other’s space, neither of us wanting to move, neither of us looking away.
It was good.
No, it was more than that. It was a beginning.
“I missed you, Ricks.” He produced a tiny dandelion flower from his pocket and gently placed it behind my ear, his finger drawing down the curve of my cheek, just like in my dream.
The truth of his words resonated in the magic, in the moments we had shared, in my soul.
“I missed you too,” I said, linking our hands back together. “Let’s not do that again.”
He nodded and swallowed and looked like he was about to apologize again, but I was done with regrets.
I walked past him, but held on to his fingers. He pivoted with the movement, and we let our arms stretch out, our fingers still joined. I glanced back at him.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s build a shop.”
He grinned and closed the distance between us, then walked with me to the shovels, to the wood, and to the start of our second chance.