But when it came a second time, she heard it as well. The two of them turned, twisting around on the rock, and saw the powerful, apelike figure of Leicester Grindylow barreling toward them.
“Grin?” Oliver ventured, still getting used to the water boggart’s nickname. “What’s going on?”
But even as he asked the question, he saw the dust rising from the Truce Road to the north, and he had his answer. Oliver slipped from the rock and stood. Julianna did the same, reaching for his hand. Their fingers twined and they started toward Grin.
“Right, you’ve seen ’em, then,” the boggart said. “Figured you’d want to know that the Harvest gods have arrived.”
“Thanks. We’re on our way.”
Grin nodded and turned around, hurrying back the way he’d come. Oliver had thought the boggart might fall into step beside them, but found himself relieved that Grin was in such a hurry to rejoin the others.
Blue Jay, Li, and Cheval stood at the edge of the road several hundred yards to the north, where the wind blew grains up from the ruins of the sandcastle, but all he could focus on was the bizarre parade of legends coming down the slope toward them. He recognized many of the gods of the Harvest, but others were unfamiliar to him. In addition to the men and women and beasts made of wood and leaves and wheat and cornstalks, several thick roots burst from the soil on the roadside and then plunged into the dirt again, moving like worms. Thick as fallen logs, they emerged and then burrowed down again.
Beyond the Harvest gods were legends he did not recognize. In his time on this side of the Veil, Oliver had seen many warriors, but none like these. Many legends were larger than ordinary humans, but this small cadre was somehow also grander. They were formidable and they strode along the Truce Road as though they were some royal family, gathering for the funeral of one of their own. Last of all came an ugly, lumbering giant who seemed at once ancient and childlike. His hands were so large Oliver thought he could probably crush a man’s bones to powder with one squeeze.
Yet even with that extraordinary sight, he only glanced at the approaching legends. His focus had begun with-and now returned to-the two figures at the front of that strange parade, a skulking trickster in a denim jacket with a cigarette clenched between his teeth and the familiar, petite form of Kitsune. The sunlight made her copper fur gleam red and orange, as though tiny pinpoints of fire burned on her cloak and hood.
“Did you know she was going to be with them?” Julianna asked.
Oliver turned and saw the hurt in her eyes.
“I had no idea.”
“And she just expects us to behave like nothing happened, like she didn’t run away and leave us to die?”
Oliver watched as the bizarre foot soldiers arrived at the ruin of the sandcastle. The roots that had been burrowing through the ground thrust up from the sand and became tree-creatures. One of them was the Appletree Man, whom Oliver knew. Cheval Bayard, Grin, and Li moved to meet them. Blue Jay slid past the first of the Harvest gods and went to his cousins-the tricksters. With a nod to Coyote, he took Kitsune in his arms in a tight embrace. From behind, all Oliver could see were the feathers in Blue Jay’s hair, dancing in the breeze.
“I guess she does,” he said. “The war’s on. She’s bringing a bunch of warrior legends to fight alongside Hunyadi’s soldiers. We’re all on the same side.”
Julianna stood rooted to the spot, the two of them halfway between the rock they’d been sitting on and the ruins of the sandcastle. “Maybe she doesn’t care if we’re here or not. Maybe she doesn’t think she did anything wrong.”
Oliver shook his head. He remembered all of the times Kitsune had looked at him with those jade eyes, the intimacy of her nearness, her lips brushing his own. Even though at the time he hadn’t known if he and Julianna would ever be together again, he had not followed through on those temptations. But he had wanted to. He and Kitsune had grown close in so many ways. Their friendship had been intense and passionate, even without the sexual tension that had developed. He would never have imagined her abandoning them to the dungeons of Palenque to save herself.
But that had been willful blindness. Had he given it any thought, he would have been able to predict it. Oliver wouldn’t flatter himself by believing that Kitsune truly had fallen in love with him, but the journey they’d gone through together had created a bond between them that Kitsune-a trickster, normally caring for no one but herself-would not willingly surrender or even share. Oliver should have seen her jealousy coming. At the very least, he should have understood it at the time.
Now he did. Not that he forgave Kitsune, but he knew that what happened was nothing more than her nature. Instinct.
“Oliver,” Julianna said.
Ahead, at the ruins, the three tricksters were talking even as the other Borderkind and legends began to gather on the road. The time for rest had passed. They were off to war.
Kitsune pulled back from Blue Jay, looking around. Her gaze fell upon Oliver and Julianna and even from a distance he could see the sadness etched upon her face.
“War’s like politics,” Oliver said. “It makes strange bedfellows.”
Julianna cupped one hand behind his head to get his attention and moved closer, locking eyes with him, tearing his focus away from Kitsune.
“It better not,” she said.
All along, she must have had her suspicions about what had gone on between him and Kitsune through that long journey. But she had said nothing until now. Oliver smiled softly, reminded how extraordinary a woman this was. Julianna had gauged the situation and put it aside as unimportant, particularly with Kitsune out of the picture. Now, as strong as she was, she wanted reassurance.
“We got very close. But never that close.”
“And now?”
He shook his head, reached out and touched her cheek. “All I want is to be with you. As for friendship with Kitsune, I could have forgiven her leaving us high and dry. I really could have. But she hurt you, Jules. Whatever bond we had before, she broke it.”
Julianna took a deep breath and some of the fire left her gaze. “War makes strange bedfellows.”
“Yeah. It does.”
“But I’m not going to play nice.”
Oliver had no reply to that. Julianna Whitney had never put on a false face in her entire life, except with some of the law firm’s clients, and then only under duress from the partners.
In silent agreement, they strode toward the ruins of the castle, which had spilled sand for hundreds of feet all around it as it collapsed. As if on cue, Kitsune extricated herself from Blue Jay and Coyote and walked out to meet them. Blue Jay watched with concern until Coyote said something to distract him, and then the two tricksters studiously attempted to mind their own business. The rest of the gods and legends were making introductions. How strange that in the midst of such wonders Oliver and Julianna should be focused on the personal and intangible.
The breeze blew Kitsune’s silken black hair across her face. She brushed it aside and then reached back, as if to raise her hood. As her fingers touched the copper fur, she hesitated and changed her mind, leaving it where it was. She would not hide in the shadows of her cloak, or in the fur of the fox that she was in her heart.
He saw no trace of mischief in her eyes, today. Only regret.
“Oliver,” the fox-woman said. Her gaze shifted. “Julianna.” She bowed her head in some combination of greeting and penitence and then looked up at them again, finally searching Oliver’s eyes. “You know that if I could take those moments back, I would. For a trickster, trust is a gift, whether given or received. I knew…I know that I ruined that trust. And I am deeply sorry.”
Slowly, Oliver nodded. “You did, Kit. And it means a lot to hear you say that. But you know it can’t be that simple.”
So much remained unsaid between them but to try to discuss it now would serve no purpose except to hurt Julianna.