Chapter 32

Ruby

When I first saw Atwood’s empty seat in the theater, I was angry and hurt that he would miss my show. Now, however, as I stand in the middle of the quad as the snow falls around me, it all makes sense.

I reach into my shirt and pull out my locket, which I haven’t taken off since Atwood gave it to me. His instructions from this morning flash across my mind.

“If you ever need me, or just want to feel my presence, all you have to do is hold the pendant.”

With a deep breath, I close my eyes and wrap my fingers around the pendant, squeezing it tightly in my hand. I wait like this for several moments, searching for the sound of Atwood’s voice, his touch, his smell, but… there is nothing.

Just as I’m about to give up and go back inside, thinking to myself that maybe Atwood’s words were more metaphorical than anything, I feel something.

It’s small, just a spark, but it’s there. At the edges of my mind I can just barely feel Atwood’s presence, but it’s weak. I squeeze my eyes shut even harder, straining to find him and strengthen his presence. Suddenly, I’m struck with a vision.

Snow drips on the snowy ground. He’s in a quiet forest. The moon is bright above him, illuminating his path. He’s in his wolf form, limping back to the castle. He falters and stumbles, growling weakly as he pushes himself back to his feet.

Just like that, the vision is gone. I open my eyes wide with a gasp.

I don’t know exactly what happened, but I know that Atwood is hurt, or he’s going to be hurt. Either way, I have to go to him.

“Ruby?” Nancy’s voice says from inside. She must be looking for me, but I don’t have time to explain this to her. There’s just too much.

Before Nancy can find me, I take off through the archway that leads to the road. Hopefully my footprints will be covered by new snow before anyone realizes where I went, and they’ll just assume that I went home. I start to run along the road that leads to the castle as my vision of Atwood sticks in my mind, but stop as I realize that Atwood was in the forest, not the castle when I saw him.

If I run to the castle now, I might not make it to Atwood in time. I need to find where he is so that I can help him before it’s too late.

Cursing under my breath, I veer off the road and down into the woods. I run recklessly through the forest in the direction of the castle, using my night vision to scope for any signs of Atwood.

Quickly, however, I realize that I have absolutely no clue where I am. The snow has begun to fall more heavily, blanketing my surroundings and covering my tracks so that I can’t even retrace my steps back to the road. I lift my arm to shield my eyes from the snow as I scan the moonlit forest, but it’s no use.

“Shit,” I whisper to myself with a shiver as I trudge forward. A theater costume isn’t exactly the best attire for running through cold, snowy woods, and my feet are already soaked through my shoes.

I keep pushing forward, but the cold sets in quickly and soon I’m shivering all over against the cold. The wind picks up, sending flurries of snow all around and freezing me to my core.

Suddenly, I have another vision.

The forest is quiet, blanketed in white. Ahead, there is something laying in the snow. A person. It’s… me. My lips are blue and my eyes unblinking. I’m dead.

I snap back to reality with a gasp. Am I going to die out here? I think back to Nancy’s voice calling for me from inside the school, and curse myself for not just telling her what’s happening. She could have helped me… We could have prevented this.

My vision starts to become all too real as I stumble over a hidden tree root and fall to the snowy ground, soaking my clothes. For a moment I just lay there, accepting my fate. If my vision showed me laying dead in the snow, then there’s no escaping from this.

I close my eyes, letting the snow fall on me like a blanket.

Ruby…

My eyes snap open when I hear Atwood’s voice inside my mind.

“Atwood?” I say out loud, scrambling to my feet.

Ruby…

His voice sounds like it’s coming from one direction. It gives me strength to keep going.

I follow Atwood’s voice through the woods. With each step, it sounds closer and closer, and soon I’m running through the forest, deftly leaping over rocks and tree roots and never once stumbling in the snow, as though instinct has taken over, as though something primal within me has given me a second chance.

Before I know it, Atwood’s voice is loud, and I can smell him. He must be close.

I come upon a blood covered corpse in the woods, but I know it’s not him as I approach. It’s a Bear. I sniff the air, smelling Atwood’s scent. It’s strong, and I know that he’s nearby.

My suspicions are confirmed when I hear a strained howl from nearby. More howls echo from further away, and I’m relieved to know that at least the rest of the pack is on their way.

I run in the direction of Atwood’s howl, but soon I don’t need to use my senses because there is an obvious blood trail that has not yet been covered by fresh snow. It leads directly to…

“Atwood!” I shout as I run toward him. He’s still in his wolf form. He looks over his shoulder at me briefly before collapsing in the snow.

I rush to his side and drop to my knees, cupping his large wolven face in my hands.

“Why did you come here?”

Even his mindlink voice is weak and strained.

“I knew I had to find you,” I say, running my hands along his coat to find the source of the bleeding. He has several injuries, but I’m not sure which is the worst.

“How did you find me out here?”

I pause, biting my lip.

“I’ll explain later,” I answer. I touch his face, and he winces. The Bear must have gotten a good slash across Atwood’s face, which is where most of the blood is coming from.

I place my hands firmly on his wound.

“You can’t heal me,” he says. “You don’t have the ability.”

Ignoring him, I shut my eyes and focus all of my energy on his wound. Nothing happens for several moments, but something inside of me tells me to just keep focusing. Even if I lack the ability to heal Atwood’s wounds, I would rather die than not try at all.

It’s small, but I can feel my energy trickling down through my fingers and into Atwood. He stops shuddering beneath my hands as I focus my energy.

“Ruby,” he says weakly, “stop. You don’t know how to control it. You’ll-”

I don’t care what he says. I urge my energy into his wound, not caring for the sudden weakness in my own body as I feel his gash closing beneath my palms.

Just a little more…

Atwood stands, causing my hands to drop away from his wound.

The last thing I see before everything goes dark is the other pack members running toward us.