"What does it say?" Devyn asks.
When I look up from the words I can see him staring at Nick, like he's trying to get strength from him somehow. His face pales.
Mick nods at me. "Read it, Zara."
" 'When unable to mate with a queen, the pixie king has no choice but to take blood tributes from young males.' " My voice starts shaking and Nick puts his big hand on my shoulder, steadying me. " 'The entire court will help him hunt down the boys, absconding with them to the king's home, where the boys' blood is slowly drained.' " I stop reading. Devyn's face is pale, almost all the dark, good color of it just gone, washed away. lssie's eyes widen more than usual. "That's sick."
She sits back. She leans into Devyn, who still looks like he might pass out or puke or something.
Nick squeezes my shoulder. "Anything else?"
I flip the page. I don't want to keep reading, not if it's upsetting Devyn.
"It's okay," Devyn says.
I clear my throat and whisper. " 'Eventually, the boys die, their bodies overcome by the horrors brought upon them by the pixies. The pixies, this narrator might add, have no will to fight this overwhelming need.
The pixie king can be without a queen for only so long before he succumbs to the dark, torturous side of his nature, and with his weakness the other pixies also become more debased and deprived, roaming the woods, hunting for potential queens and blood tributes.' " "Look," Nick points. "In the margin."
"What's it say?" lssie asks.
I squint at the faded pencil marks. " 'Stay out of the woods.' " "Good call," Nick says. His hand drops from my shoulder. I feel abandoned, colder somehow. I go to the back of the book where the due dates are stamped. No one has taken it out since they've pasted in a new sheet on the back page. But there's writing underneath it.
I start peeling off the edges while lssie says, "I am really not into this pixie thing. You guys think this is right, don't you? About the blood tributes?"
"Yeah, I know it's right," Devyn says. "But what does it mean that he's pointing at Zara all the time?"
"That's obvious," Nick adds. "He wants her to be his queen."
I swallow, but I don't look at Issie when I talk. Instead I stare into Nick's eyes. "Why not? It doesn't say that the pixie queens are bad."
"It doesn't say they're good!" Devyn almost yells.
The magazine guy throws hisEconomist on the table and stomps away.
Issie lowers her voice. "We probably just haven't read the part about the pixie queens being murdered and raped and turned into blood tributes."
"Right," I say.
"Zara…," Nick warns. "You're thinking something."
"No, I'm not," I lie, standing up. I grab the book we've been reading and a couple others. "I'm going to go check these out. It's almost dark. Betty'll kill me if I don't get home before dark."
"Do you think she knows?" Devyn asks.
"Knows?"
"About the pixies?"
I imagine Betty with her gruff flannel shirts and her fact-gathering nature. "No way."
Nick gives me a ride home to where Yoko waits alone since we carpooled. We are silent a good part of the way.
"I don't know if I really believe this," I finally say.
"But?"
"But if it's true…"
"It sucks."
"Basically. Yeah."
He puts the MINI in park. "Maybe once we figure it all out we can set a trap."
"A trap?" I pick at the back of the book, where the due date is. The little wheels in my head are working overtime.
"What are you doing?"
"Nerves, I guess," I say and then it peels away, revealing the way that people used to take out books from libraries. There's a list of people who had the book, all their names handwritten in neat lines. I gasp.
Mick leans over, dark and forest smelling. "What?"
The words blur on the paper. "On the take-out list. The last name."
"Matthew White?" He looks at me.
A tear escapes out of my eye before I can trap it in there. Nick reaches out with his thumb and wipes it away.
"That's my dad," I stare at the name, written in his scratchy tall letters. "That means…"
"He knew."
"He knew about the pixies?"
Nick nods, "But look at this."
Written in pencil scratch around all the names like a border or something, it says,Don't fear. Here there be tygers, I57.
"What does that mean?" I ask.
"Is might know. It sounds familiar, doesn't it?" Nick says, but his eyes shade as he pulls out his cell phone.
"You're not telling me something."
"What?"
"You're hiding something."
"And how would you know that? You're psychic now?"
"Your cheek is twitching. I have this, um, this theory that your cheek twitches when you lie or you're hiding something. It's like you're trying to run out of your own skin."
He shakes his head, keeps punching buttons. "I don't know what to do with you."
I smile. "You could just tell me what you're thinking."
"Hold on," he says and then tells lssie what we found. She says something back and he hangs up.
"Well?"
He shifts his weight and slips his cell into a little nook between us. "She thinks it's a reference to the old medieval line, 'Here there be dragons.' It was used on maps and stuff to warn sailors away from dangerous places."
"I knew it sounded familiar."
"Mm-hmm."
"But that doesn't make sense."
"Why?"
I point at the first two words. "It says not to fear."
"And it's not dragons."
"It's tigers."
"Weird."
Betty comes to the front door and yells, "Are you two going to sit out there forever?"
I blush. "I should go."
"Yeah."
I step out of the car. The cold air bashes against me as I stuff the library book into my bag with all the others. I hoist the bag onto my shoulder, buckling under the weight.
Nicks jumps out of the car so quickly that I don't even notice it, and he's suddenly beside me, taking the bag off my shoulder. "Let me get it."
I am all for equal rights and everything, but it's pretty heavy. "Thanks."
"No problem," he says, walking with me to the porch where Betty's still standing, arms crossed over her nonexistent chest, smiling at us. Nick lowers his voice to a whisper. "Don't do anything stupid."
"You either," I whisper back.
Betty snorts as we clomp up the steps. "Well, Mr. Colt. Would you like to join us for dinner?"
"She's cooking," I warn.
Betty swats me with a dish towel. "Spaghetti. What can I do to spaghetti?"
Nick puts my bag just inside the door and actually looks scared. "That's okay. I've got a steak planned at home."
"Fine," Betty winks at him and then winks at me. Nick blushes. "I'll let you two say your good-byes."
"How embarrassing," I mutter.
Nick laughs. Dimples crinkle up the skin near his lips. I will not look at his lips. How can he never have used those? That's a crime against humanity right there.
"Bye," he says. "See you in school."
"Bye," I say, and he walks away. The sun is pretty much gone. The woods are dark, tall masses that lock the sky to the ground. Anything could be hiding there. I watch him get in the car. I watch him drive away. The whole time I expect something to jump out, grab him, and take him away, a blood tribute. I shake my head. The taillights disappear around a curve.
Betty's hand comes around my waist and I jump.
"You're letting the cold in," she says, and she shuts the door.
"So, John McKee's son has a ruptured appendix," Betty says as the water for the spaghetti boils.
I put forks on the table. The tongs of my fork touch an old water stain that looks like a cloud on wood.
"That's too bad."
"It's more than too bad," Betty grumbles. "It means that I might get called in. We're the only paramedics in town. We're the only ones who can handle anything big. The first responders are just the drivers. They need John or me to deal with the big stuff."