Wood Sprites

The police officer crouched down beside them. He was big and scary, but at least he wasn’t crying. “I’m afraid your mommy and daddy were in a really bad accident. Their car was hit by a big truck.”

Jillian started to wail.

Louise reached for the police officer and caught tight to his shirt. “Are — are they — are they dead?”

“No!” Jillian howled. “No!”

The officer flinched at Jillian’s cry but nodded solemnly. Louise pulled Jillian between them and clung to his strength. Jillian burrowed tight into Louise, wailing, refusing to take comfort from the man.

Principal Wiley said something about going to the office and pulling their records to call their emergency contact. “Your grandmother is on her way. She was at a charity event nearby.”

“We don’t have. .” Louise started to say that they didn’t have a grandmother and then remembered that they did. “What?”

“Here she is now.” Principal Wiley beckoned to someone at the lobby doors.

And like something out of a nightmare, Anna Desmarais came sweeping down the center aisle, tall and regal as a queen. She wore a black cocktail dress and diamonds at her neck.

Louise clung tighter to the officer against the flood of impossibility that was about to sweep them away from everything they knew. “Aunt Kitty is our emergency contact.”

Principal Wiley shook his head. “According to your records, Kitty Kennedy is a family friend. We needed to call an actual relative.”

Louise whimpered and looked to Jillian. She wanted Jillian to stop crying; her twin was so much better at explaining.

“Oh, you poor babies.” Anna sunk down and opened her arms. “Yes, I know, it hurts so bad. Come here, ladybug.”

Jillian unwrapped from Louise to let herself be coaxed into the woman’s embrace. Louise stood feeling like she would collapse.

“We’ll get Jillian’s street clothes from the changing room.” Principal Wiley tapped Miss Hamilton’s shoulder and pointed toward the hallway.

Louise could only whimper as he led away the only person they knew in the room, leaving them alone with strangers.

31: Lost In Darkness

There was a sleek black limo parked in the school-bus lane outside the school. It had rained sometime during the play, and the night gleamed wet and dangerous. A tall driver in a black suit got out as they approached and opened the back doors.

All the warnings to not get into cars with strangers played through Louise’s mind.

Louise glanced at the police officer and Principal Wiley watching, letting them be taken. They couldn’t see the wrongness of this. They knew nothing about Esme’s warnings.

She kept a firm hold on Nikola, who seemed to be stumbling through the same grief that she was feeling. There had been no chance to check to see if Joy was still asleep in Tesla’s storage bin or if the baby dragon had woken up and gone in search of food. “We’ll get in first.”

Louise pretended to struggle with getting Nikola into the limo, praying that Jillian was coherent enough to delay Anna. She cracked the top of the storage chamber, and Joy peered up at her, nearly vibrating with nervousness.

“Stay.” She used Tesla’s command, knowing that if she were overheard, the adults would assume she was talking to the nanny-bot. She fished a handful of jawbreakers out of her pocket and poured them in with Joy and hurriedly closed the lid.

The need for distraction, though, had broken what little control Jillian might have had. Wailing, she needed to be lifted into the car.

* * *

Louise knew that Esme’s family was crazy rich, but it was another thing to drive up to a mansion larger than their school and spill out of the limo into a foyer that was all polished marble, gleaming gold leaf, and sparkling crystal.

Their footsteps echoed through vast empty areas as they made their way through the house to a second-floor bedroom.

“This is Esme’s old room.” Anna moved through the large room, flicking on lights. It was a great cave of a room with a twenty-foot ceiling. At one time it had been decorated in the same tween princess-style as Elle’s bedroom. Apparently it was the set of furniture that rich people bought their little girls. In the Pondwaters’ case, it was an effort to mold their daughter into a demure princess. Whatever reason had moved Anna to purchase the furniture, it obviously had been a complete failure. Every piece had been attacked, defiled, and remodeled by someone who was as whimsical as she was angry.