The Hawkweed Prophecy (13 page)

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

A
fter school Poppy found Leo. She had guarded her news within her all day long, but she wanted so badly to release it. For years she'd existed in a blur of confusion and doubt, but now she had clarity. At last her life made sense. She felt like a whole new person and longed to introduce herself.

Poppy knew where to find Leo, just as she'd known where to find Ember that day in the woods. He looked shocked to see her, but she took his hand and looked into his eyes and this time he didn't retreat. He didn't look away and she saw everything. The childhood beatings, the violence that caused the scars, the tears sobbed in secret at his mother's death, the final fight—one against three, the slash of the knife and the blood, so much blood, the running away and the never coming back; those first few nights on the streets, feeling hunted, cold, scared; the brawls, the danger, the survival. Poppy's heart contracted in her chest as she realized where Leo lived. She felt an acute pain deep inside of her at all he'd suffered and she cried out. Tears pricked in her eyes and emotion clogged in her throat so she couldn't speak.

Leo squeezed her hand. “Poppy?” he said in a voice that was strained and anxious.

“I messed up yesterday,” she managed. “I shouldn't have left you.” Then she let go of his hand. “I don't want to have stuff that I don't talk to you about,” she said shyly. “I want you to know everything.”

Without any more delay, she led him to the dell, walking quickly so as not to keep Ember waiting once more. Leo followed her without asking where or why, just traveling alongside her, helping her over stiles and through hedgerows, holding back the brambles from her face. As they went, Poppy's thoughts ripped through her mind.
How would Leo and Ember react to what she had to tell them?
Ember, she hoped, would understand. Witches were all too familiar to her.
But what would Leo make of it?
“I am a witch.” Even to Poppy's ears, it sounded laughable. Leo might not even believe her. And if he did, he might not want to. He might think she was crazy or evil.

He might run for his life.

And then he took her hand, and Poppy felt like she could breathe again. As the panic eased, she focused on the warmth in her palm that seemed to spread up her arm and to her heart. Shyly glancing up at him, she saw him smile at her.

“You all right?” he checked. Poppy nodded. “You looked pretty worried there.”

“Yeah, I'm good,” Poppy said, realizing that she meant it. “It's all going to be okay.”

No sooner had she spoken than the path ahead became thick with mud and they had to stop. Poppy took a tentative step, and
her boot squelched into the dark, wet bog. She pulled it back, the sticky earth not wanting to let go of her foot.

“I'll carry you,” Leo told her.

“You're kidding.”

“C'mon. I dare you.”

Poppy scanned Leo's face. His eyes seemed to be laughing at her, though his mouth was straight and serious.

“You can't,” she said. “I'm too heavy.”

“Heavy! There's nothing of you, girl.”

“Okay. Piggyback.”

“Seriously?!”

“Turn around.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Poppy jumped up onto his back, clutching her arms around his neck, her legs circling his waist.

“Okay?”

“Yup, you?”

“Hold tight.” Leo started to walk through the bog with long, slow strides. “Not that tight,” he muttered.

“What?”

Leo made a choking sound. “You're kind of strangling me!”

Poppy loosened her arms. “Oh God, sorry!”

He almost slipped, and her arms and legs tightened a second. “Don't worry. I've got you.” Poppy relaxed and leaned her head on Leo's shoulder, her mouth a moment from his neck. He nearly slipped again and she cried out and clung on. He laughed.

“You're doing it on purpose,” she said with mock outrage. “Let me down!”

“Never!” His
arms came back and shifted her up higher onto his back. “Don't you trust me?”

“No!” She spoke out loud, but inside she answered with a
yes
. For she did trust him. She trusted him to know her secret and still want to be with her. She trusted him to believe her and not to run away.

Ember stopped in her tracks when she saw Poppy. She had worried all night that Poppy wouldn't come today either, that she'd never come, that she'd never see her again. But there she was, standing in her long, familiar coat, her hands buried deep inside her pockets. Ember raised her arm and waved excitedly.

Poppy withdrew a hand and waved back, and it was then that Ember first set eyes on him. He must have been sitting before, hidden behind the old chest of drawers, for he rose up as if from nowhere, as if by magic. Ember couldn't move. Poppy was smiling at her. And the boy, he was looking up at her expectantly. She was supposed to be hurrying toward them, returning their smiles and greeting them. But the boy's black eyes had her fixed and she couldn't release herself.

“Ember!” Poppy beckoned.

Ember's legs obeyed and she found herself tottering down the hill, unstable as a fawn taking its first steps.

“Hey!” said the boy as she neared them.

The warm, low tone of his voice, the likes of which Ember had never heard before, rippled over her like the river in summertime.

“I'm Leo,” he
said, and those words brought Ember back to life. Her lips spread into a smile and a blush tingled in her cheeks.

She couldn't risk looking at him directly in the eye, showing all she was feeling, so she gazed at him through her lashes and said as sweetly as she could, “I'm Ember.”

Leo offered out his hand and she took it, memorizing the feeling for later.

Ember heard Poppy make a sound, a muttered word or a cough, Ember couldn't tell, but it was enough to make her turn suddenly and remember that her friend was there too. Relieved and happy and embarrassed all at once, Ember threw her arms around Poppy and held her tight.

“I missed you,” she said. Over Poppy's shoulder, Ember spied the textbook under the sofa cushion and she broke off to retrieve it. “You got the book I left for you?”

Poppy nodded. “I did. It was . . . it was perfect.”

A silence fell over the three of them. Poppy opened her mouth to speak, but then paused as if uncertain what to say. “I wanted . . . I wanted to . . .”

Ember glanced for a second at Leo and immediately felt her blush returning. When she looked back, she realized Poppy had stopped speaking altogether.

“Poppy?” Leo questioned.

Poppy swallowed as if nervous. “This is where I first met Ember,” she said quietly. “Where we hang out . . .”

“It's a good place,” he said.

“Yeah, a garbage dump!” Poppy remarked.

“I'll fit right in, then,” he said flatly, and Poppy rolled her eyes like she was cross, but then they smiled at each other and Ember realized
they'd been joking. It was as though they spoke a language she had yet to learn.

The dell was Ember's place, but suddenly she felt like the stranger there when it should be Leo who took that role. He seemed so comfortable, so at ease. The light dappled through the trees and a ray caught his face, illuminating him. And in the clear autumn light Ember's mind brightened with understanding.
Poppy has brought him here for me
, she thought.
This is why she didn't make it yesterday. He is the reason. I told her I didn't have a friend, and she gave me her friendship. I told her I'd never even met a boy and she brought me him—the most perfect boy I could ever have imagined.
She felt a surge of love for Poppy and wished she could cry out her thanks. Instead, she stored up all her gratitude for later and stole another glance at Leo, who smiled at her, and this time, she smiled back more openly.

“It is a good place,” she gushed. “I come here often. It's like my home. Not where I live—I don't mean that.” Ember felt her cheeks reddening. “Just, I feel more at home here.”

Ember could hear herself babbling, but Leo was nodding as though he understood completely.

“Can I show you my favorite thing?” she asked him.

Ember didn't wait for Leo to answer but took his arm and pulled him along. He came so easily. It felt so natural, so effortless, being with a boy, like fox cubs learning to hunt or chicks taking flight for the very first time. Pushing the nettles aside with her foot, she took him to the fireplace with the broken tiles and the cracked marble. From the hearth she lifted up the old clock with flowers engraved at the bottom, and he took it from her hands and studied it.

“It doesn't work,” she said apologetically.

“I could try to get this fixed for you if you like?”

Ember's eyes were shining. “Would you? Really?” She felt almost breathless. She turned the clock within his hands and bent her head toward him to show the opening at the back. Trapped inside were the tiny metal wheels suspended there like fallen, silver stars.

His long fingers reached and touched them so delicately. “It's beautiful,” he said.

Poppy felt like she had run aground and she was sinking. Cold water was icing her from her toes upward. The chill was spreading up her legs, through her stomach, touching her heart. Soon, she thought, she would drown. She had been sailing on the wind, free and fast, until Ember had set eyes on Leo and Poppy's hull had cracked.

I brought him here
, Poppy told herself.
I did this.
She thought she had brought them both together so she could tell them her news, her big, life-changing news. She had wanted to share it so much, but now the words couldn't form in her mind, let alone come out of her mouth. For when Ember had stood there before Leo, Poppy had seen the real reason why they were here.

It was not for her. It was for them.

From across the dell Poppy stared at Ember and saw her afresh through Leo's eyes. She was a girl from another time, untainted by the modern age—long, peasant skirt and rosy cheeks and hair that fell to her waist. It wasn't just her locks that were golden; her
whole being shone with hope and promise and goodness. Poppy watched as Ember smiled and brushed the hair from her face and tipped her head to look at Leo shyly through her lashes. Poppy had seen other girls do the same. She wondered how Ember knew what to do when she herself never did. And she realized then that it wasn't copied or learned. It was ageless and instinctive.

As she studied the two of them, their heads close together, almost touching while they examined the clock, Poppy felt a surge of anger and a cloud swept across the sky to cover the sun. She wouldn't tell them her news. Not now, not ever. Gloom descended over the dell and Ember looked up at Poppy, trying to catch her eye, wanting to impart something.

It's gratitude
, thought Poppy.
She is thanking me, for him.
Just as quickly as it arrived, the anger departed. Poppy felt limp, powerless without it. A squirrel scampered onto her back and settled on her shoulder. Poppy stood up straighter just so it could rest there.