Bones of Faerie Read Online Free PDF Page A

years,” I said, not sure whether hiding was the right thing to do. Yet I'd tried to hide, too, at first.
    “I didn't hide from everyone,” Matthew said.
    “Who knew?” There was no one I'd trust enough to speak to of magic, not if I had a choice.
    Matthew sighed and didn't answer. “The dogs will be back, Liza. They won't be so easily scared next time. We need to move.” He stood and began shoving gear into his pack.
    I thought of his sharp claws and teeth. How could I know he would always remember he was human, even now? What if next time he turned those teeth and clawson me? I didn't speak aloud, but still Matthew glanced sharply up, as if he'd read my thoughts. I hoped there wasn't any magic for that, or else we'd all go mad.
    “Liza.” He drew a deep breath. “The War is over. It's been over for almost twenty years. Magic can be controlled, no matter what your father says.”
    Like Cam controlled it? Like the faerie folk controlled it? “Magic kills, Matthew.”
    “Not always.” There was real anger in those words, the first anger I'd ever heard from him. Something began building in Matthew, making the hairs on his neck stand on end. He stepped forward, lips drawing back from his teeth, fur sprouting on the backs of his hands. But before I could step back—before I could run—he clenched those hands into fists and stepped away again. He drew a deep breath and the fur receded, making him look almost human once more.
    Almost. There was something in his gray eyes—too bright, too wild. Matthew looked down at his hands, then up at me, asking me without words to understand.
    What I understood was that he couldn't go back home any more than I could. Neither of us could be sure we wouldn't do harm. Better to stay far from our town and those who lived there.
    The dogs started howling again. I handed Matthew supplies, ignoring my stinging, blistered fingers as I did: the firewood bag and food pouch, the mug and bowl and what remained of our blanket. The pot I left behind; it was too hot to pack, and maybe the cornmeal would distract the dogs. Matthew zipped the pack closed even as Tallow leaped to my shoulders, hiding her nose in my hair.
    The howls grew louder. Matthew pulled the pack over his shoulders, grabbed the torch in one hand, and quickly lit it in the fire. “Come
on,”
he said, and together we fled, the howling close behind.

Chapter 5
    A
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we ran branches caught in my hair and tore at my sweater. My breath came in gasps and my back throbbed, but I kept running. Matthew limped at my side, clutching the torch. Tallow pressed up against my neck. The dogs crashed through the undergrowth and onto the trail just a few yards behind us. We veered away from them, off the path and into the forest. Yips and howls echoed close behind. I heard cracking wood and snapping bone. The barking stopped; there was a single strangled yelp and then—silence.
    Matthew and I stopped running and stared at each other. Bruised purple mulberries littered the ground at our feet, filling the air with a sickly sweet scent. Mulberrytrees surrounded us on all sides. The flickering circle of torchlight suddenly seemed small. Tallow mewed softly, and the branches around us bent low at the sound. I was sure their green leaves heard our every breath.
    Without speaking we inched back toward the path, searching for gaps amid the trees.
    The ground heaved upward. A root broke through the earth beneath my feet and I fell. Tallow leaped from my shoulders and darted into the forest. “Run!” I shouted to Matthew as I struggled to my feet, yet he stepped toward me, not away. His injured leg gave way and he fell, clutching the torch in one hand. I reached for him. Tree bark grabbed my wool sweater, pulling me back. Stickiness seeped through the sweater—blood or sap, I couldn't tell. The trees were much closer together than before.
    “Liza!” Matthew rasped. He was half-buried in the dirt, roots writhing over his legs and chest and neck,