Hunter sat in the cool shadows that the palm fronds cast onto the grass. When they’d all decided to spend the afternoon at the park, she’d silently cheered. Writing outside was so much better than writing inside. But in the rush to get out of the house, she’d forgotten her journal. The worst part was that she knew exactly where it was. She closed her eyes and glided through her front door, past the living room, and into the kitchen. There it was. On top of the forgotten cooler full of seltzer and the pee-yellow tea Mag brewed and insisted tasted just like green gummy bears.
Jax’s foot bumped Hunter’s as he maneuvered out of the tree’s shadows and back into the sun. Beside her, he closed his eyes, his lashes nearly dusting his round cheeks, and resumed tossing the football from one hand to the other while Emily and Mercy shook with girlish giggles. From now on, every day would be like this. Every day would be simple.
With an eruption of laughter, Emily threw her head back. She nearly toppled over onto the red-and-white-checkered blanket she had brought from home. She fanned her face and insisted Mercy, “Stop playing.”
Hunter plucked a white clover flower and rolled the stem between the thumb and forefinger of her bandaged hand. Clover dotted the grass like patches of green fog. When the rains left and the summer sun arrived, the clover would be the only lush green in the entire park. She dusted her chin with the puffy flowers. That’s what this field should be. Clover. A big, fluffy, green mattress of clover that stretched from the palm tree all the way to the playground. Hunter’s neck ached as she leaned over and dropped the flower on Jax’s stomach while children’s laughter drifted on the breeze like faraway church bells. The scene was postcard perfect.
Hunter instinctively ran her fingertips along her sternum where Tyr’s pendant had once been. Where Amphitrite had reached through her. She swallowed and dropped her hand into her lap. Well, the scene was almost perfect.
Mercy leapt to her feet and bounded over to Jax. “Go long!” she shouted as she stole the football and ran toward the playground. Mercy had finally gotten rid of Kirk, but no one could get rid of football.
Jax popped up. The clover flew off his shirt and landed next to Hunter’s wounded hand.
Mercy jumped up and down and triumphantly waved the ball overhead. “You, too, H!” she called and added a butt wiggle to her victory dance.
Jax tapped Hunter’s foot with his own. “Up and at ’em … or is it Adam?” He jutted his chin and scratched his sideburn.
Emily leaned back onto her elbows and cocked her head. “But who’s Adam?”
“Hey!” Hunter practically heard her sister stomp her foot as Mercy cupped her hand around the side of her mouth. “You guys are taking a million years!”
With a groan, Hunter picked up the flower and got to her feet. “Doesn’t Em have to play?” She tried to hide how much her muscles still ached and how much tension now hung in the air between her and her sister.
Emily scooped Mercy’s giant bag onto her lap and fished out a pair of paisley-rimmed sunglasses. “I’ll be the referee.” She slid on the glasses and set Mercy’s purse back on the blanket. “Or the cheerleader.” She crossed one ankle over the other and pointed and flexed her toes. “Whichever one makes it so that I don’t have to get up.”
Hunter yipped as Jax launched into the air and his hip smashed into her. The sudden thwack of the ball against the tree was the perfect sound effect to Hunter’s crash onto the grass. This time, she couldn’t hide her pain.
Mercy rushed to her. “Sorry!” she squeaked, her shadow merging with the one the palms cast across the grass.
Jax offered Hunter his hand and pulled her to her feet. “H, I am so sorry!”
“I just can’t stop getting beat up.” She offered a heartless half smile as she glanced down at the crushed flower and brushed her hands off on her shorts.
Emily was the only one who chuckled.
Mercy clapped her hands and lifted onto her toes. “I didn’t know I had such a great arm. I should be the Mustangs’ QB.”
“Yeah.” Jax snorted and headed toward the ball. “Kirk wouldn’t lose his mind about that.”
Hunter rolled her eyes and trailed after Jax and Mercy. “Isn’t most of it gone already, anyway?”
Emily pushed the borrowed sunglasses onto her head as she entered the palm’s wide shadows. “It’d be really sad if what we’ve seen so far is him operating at one hundred percent.”
Mercy stuffed her hands into the pockets of her dress. “I used to think he was smart, but when I look back, I’m like, goddess, he was a total oaf.”
Emily lifted her hands into the air. “Finally, she sees the light!”
Hunter draped her arm over Mercy’s shoulders and pulled her in close. Mercy had not only seen the light—she’d taken a piece of it and pressed it into her heart. She glowed from the inside out. Hunter was glad to have her sister back, though Mercy’s nearness no longer filled Hunter with warm fuzzies.
Jax bent over to pick up the ball and jerked to a halt before his fingers grazed the pigskin. He craned his neck and looked up, up, up. “Uh, Mag…?”
Hunter stiffened. She slid her arm from Mercy’s back and followed Jax’s attention up one of the palm’s five trunks. Cracks spiderwebbed the bark like antique porcelain.
Jax stepped back as Mercy crouched down at the base of the trunk. The football had made a divot in the tree, like a fist through drywall. Mercy sucked in a breath, pressed her fingertips against her lips, and shook her head back and forth.
Hunter’s heart clicked against her ribs as her swallow lodged within her throat. “What—” She cleared her throat and started again. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, Freya!” Mercy closed her eyes and tilted her chin toward the crown of the tall palm stem. “I can barely feel it breathing.”
“But we fixed them.” Hunter groped at her chest for the pendant, but she’d discarded it when she threw away her god. It wasn’t bad enough she’d lost her mother. She’d forsaken her god as well. But at least … “We healed the trees. We healed the gates. We fixed everything.”
Mercy’s dark hair slipped from her shoulders as she reached out and pressed her hand to the trunk.
The elephant-gray bark cracked like dry earth. Hunter shielded her face as the long stem of the doum palm turned to ash and snowed down around them.
Screams ripped through the ashen air, a loud wailing that shook Hunter’s bones and made her heart beat hummingbird fast. Emily gripped Jax’s hand as Mercy wrapped her arms around her sister. Hunter pressed her face against Mercy’s shoulder, and her spit spackled the light green fabric of Mercy’s dress. It was then that Hunter realized she was the one screaming.
“It was for nothing!” Hunter tore away from her sister. “I betrayed Tyr for nothing!” Her knees quaked, but she forced herself to stand. “You made me do it. You fell apart when Mom died because you’ve never had to face anything in your life. You dropped all of it on me. You said I was wrong.” The rage returned. It slid through her veins like magma and cooled around her beating heart. “You’re just like the rest of them.” Hunter swiped the back of her hand against her cheeks. “You think if I’m not just like you, there’s something wrong with me.”
Tears glossed Mercy’s green eyes. “But Sarah’s poem said…” She moved closer to Hunter. Ash billowed with each step. “I thought—”
“It doesn’t matter what you thought.” Hunter shook her head. Papery tree bark fell around them. “What’s done is done.” Her gaze slid from Mercy to Jax. “Get me out of here.” Hunter pressed her fingers against her chest. She wanted her pendant. She wanted her god.
Jax wrapped his arm around Hunter’s shoulders and led her to the parking lot.
She ran her teeth along her bottom lip. It had all been for nothing. She’d nearly died for nothing. She ignored the parents and children gawking and pointing at the cloud of dust where the palm tree had been. She didn’t even look back as Mercy shouted her name. Rock now encased Hunter’s heart. It was better that way, safer. Hunter pressed her teeth into her lip. If she had only been stronger, maybe this would be different. Maybe this would never have happened. Maybe Hunter would have cast off the shadow of her sister and healed the gates herself.
She winced. She’d dug her teeth in too deep and bit through raw flesh. She snaked her tongue along her bottom lip. A copper tang heated the inside of her mouth and ran down her throat in a fiery blaze. A shooting star. She looked up at the blanket of sunlight overhead and pictured the stars just beyond. She hadn’t known her full power before, but she knew it now. Hunter Goode held the cosmos within her blood.
She’d fix the mess that Mercy had made. And this time, nothing would stand in her way. Not even her sister.