Page 18 of Harnessed in Gold

“Not for snowdrops. In Nàdar, they’ll sometimes even bloom in January. They’re one of the first wildflowers of spring.”

I steal a glance at him as he rises. This man—faerie—whatever—is such a walking contradiction. A blond John Wick admiring delicate spring flowers. Is it strange that I trust him? Not really. What’s truly strange is that, even though I don’t trust Leo, I’m reassured by his begrudging faith in Rime.

With a sigh, I straighten and look out over the water, taking a moment to quiet my mind. This area has a vibe of its own, that’s for certain. An energy similar to a historic building or church. As wild and beautiful as it is, this section of the river isn’t untouched. Generations have lived, worked, and died alongside it. I can feel the thrum of human activity, even though Rime and I are the only people here.

He asks, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” I start walking again, and he falls into step beside me.

“Did you feel something?”

I huff a laugh. “I always feel something. But, yeah, it feels like things happened around here.” It’s a lame way to put it, but it’s the best I can do. That’s the trouble with feelings: they defy words.

“Bad things? Good things?”

“All the things. At some time or another, people have lived down here.” It could’ve been four hundred years ago or forty. There’s no way to know for sure, other than that the energy feelsold.

I stuff my hands into my jacket pockets. It’s a good ten degrees cooler here by the water. The wind is having a fun time with Rime’s fine hair, blowing it across his forehead and making it stand up like a chicken comb. But even with rooster hair, he’s an imposing presence.

With every step we take down the path, my anxiety builds. How much closer are we to the musket fire? I feel like I’m at the doctor’s, waiting to get a shot. Any second, someone will jab a needle into myarm, and no matter how much I brace myself for it, it’s still going to hurt like hell.

This energy field I’m about to walk into, whatever and wherever it is, is going to suck. It doesn’t matter how much I prepare myself for it. Like I did with Jason’s panic in the O-Chi basement, I might be able to dissociate myself from it once it hits, but I get the feeling his overdose was small potatoes compared to what I’m going to face, maybe not today, but at some point during this seek-and-find mission.

I glance over at Rime as we walk. Maybe calming magic isn’t such a bad thing, because I’m really wishing he had some right now. It would make this easier. Like knowing you’re going to be sent home from surgery with painkillers.

“So, uh—” I conceal my nervousness in a joke, “—did Leo give you an hour-long PowerPoint lecture on what to do if I freak out?”

Rime chuckles. “He has me well-prepared.”

“What did he tell you?”

“That at the first sign of distress, I’m to get you away from the energy. As quickly as I can.”

“And what if I won’t move?”

“Then I should knock you into the river.”

“What?!”

He meets my glare with a hearty laugh. “I’m joking, little psychic.”

“How aboutyougo into the river?” I bump him, hoping to make him stumble, but he doesn’t stagger, not even one step. I may as well have crashed into a redwood tree.

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Move!” I knock into him again. Nothing. Giggling, I plead, “Can’t you just pretend to stumble?”

“Go ahead, try again.”

I’m about to charge him, hands up for the ultimate shove, when a blast of fear flips my stomach upside down. I freeze, too overcome to notice him reaching for me until he’s seized my shoulders.

“No!” I hiss. “Not yet.”

“Betts—”

“Give me a minute. It’s not that bad.”

Trusting him to keep me upright, I go still and focus. My stomach roils as my chest constricts with panic. I hold onto Rime by his sleeves, fighting the urge to run. An urge that could just as easily be my own as it could be the energy I’m sensing. Ripples of horror lift the hairs on my arms, and anger burns my skin. Good lord, what happened here?