He hummed.

  “It doesn’t ask me to get mixed up with a god, or a swamp witch, or an overbearing wizard who ball-gagged my house.”

  Val’s laugh was unexpected. “You’re grumpy without your coffee in the morning.”

  The coffee gurgled and hissed, which meant it was almost done.

  “I’m grumpy when my life gets tossed into a wood chipper, and I’m all out of glue.”

  “He’s on the way, isn’t he?” Val asked.

  I turned and leaned my butt against the countertop. “Yes. Which means I need to make a decision.”

  “About?” The ghost leaned his hip against the counter, mirroring me. His wolf sat at his side. Val let his hand drop so he could rub behind its furry ears.

  “If I want to let Card be a part of this place. If I want the magic here to claim him. To keep him. It will mess with my life. I mean, I already have an open door for anyone who stops by, but they all leave.”

  “Eventually,” he said.

  “Eventually,” I agreed.

  “You want my opinion?” he asked.

  “Sure.” The coffee had stopped sputtering. I pulled it out from the drip and poured thick, dark liquid into a mug that already held a healthy dose of cream.

  “I think he’s unpredictable. But I don’t think he’ll try to screw things up on purpose.”

  “But he will screw things up.”

  Val shrugged. “I don’t know him as well as you do. But on the drive, we talked.”

  I drank coffee. The heat of it, the utter normalness of it, grounding me and somehow making it easier to believe everything was okay. Or was going to be okay. “What did you talk about?”

  “Him, mostly, because I am a nosey bastard.” His smile had a flash of wolf fang. “He told me some about why he left. He...he was in a bind. I’m not taking his side. I’m just saying I think you should talk to him. Let him talk to you. Then when you decide to throw him out, or let the Crossroads keep those marks on him, you’ll do it without wondering if you’re making the right move.”

  “You were supposed to be working out your own relationship issues with Danube this week.”

  “Yeah, but this is good practice, right?”

  “Val. You know he wants to talk to you.”

  The ghost nodded. “I will. We will. But I’m not going to leave you with the whole Card thing unsettled.”

  I took a couple more gulps, then walked over to the old radio and turned the dial a click. Soft blues filled the kitchen, and Val smiled. “Sure I can’t interest you in some Punk? Death Metal?”

  “I like the oldies,” I said. “Keep an eye out for him, okay? Crossroads says he’s on his way.”

  I took my coffee with me up to my bedroom, showered, and changed into wide-legged jeans with grasshoppers embroidered down the sides, and a tank with a light button-down cotton shirt over it.

  We’d have to face Fate today, one way or another. I was hoping we were going to just give her coins back and be done with this mess.

  Although part of this mess was the problem of Card himself, and me still loving him.

  “Maybe he won’t want to be tied to the Crossroads. He doesn’t like being tied down.”

  Except to his tree. And for many years, the Halls of the Wizards. And his sister. And to me, all those years ago.

  I had time to eat breakfast, do the dishes, and plant myself at the little table on the corner of the back porch with extra coffee, food, and water.

  Card finally pulled the truck up into the garage and came walking over.

  He looked tired, his hair a mess like he’d run an eggbeater through it. But he wasn’t moving like he hurt any more. His stride was smooth, his shoulders were no longer stiff, and the smile he gave me was apologetic, but also filled with relief.

  I could see the green in his eyes, feel the green that rolled off of him, the feeling from him that was grateful and happy and home.

  He had been to see his tree, and doing so had given him rest and comfort.

  Gods, he was gorgeous.

  “How long since you were last with your tree?” I asked.

  He shrugged and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “I hid the coin, but only stayed long enough for that. Before then? Several years.”

  My eyebrows raised. Most dryads wouldn’t go several months without needing to get back to their tree.

  “I would have been ho—here earlier,” he said, “but I had to...I had to stay there for a couple hours. I couldn’t make my feet move.” He shook his head. “I sort of lost myself in the green a bit.”

  “Looks like you’re better for it.”

  He nodded. “And late for it.”

  “We’ve got a few hours. Come on up. Let’s talk.”

  His hand touched the porch rail, and the whole Crossroads vibrated with a happy hum.

  He grinned and dropped down in the chair across from me.

  “Coffee,” I said, waving my cup toward the carafe. “Bagel with egg and cheese.” I nodded at the plate with the kitchen towel over it. “It’s probably cold by now.”

  “It’s perfect. I haven’t eaten since...yesterday, I think.”

  He poured coffee and took a drink, then set to the bagel, eating half of it in quick short bites washed down with sips of hot coffee.

  “Did you get the coins?”

  He nodded and reached into his pocket. He placed two coins on the table.

  Both were big and heavy. One was the cold silver fire of starlight. Impressed into it was the image of a scroll. That would be Lachesis’ coin.

  The other was deep, warm gold, glowing is if made of late summer sunlight. A pair of shears were imprinted in the center of it. Atropos’ coin.

  I didn’t have to ask him if these were real. I could feel the power radiating off them.

  “You still have the other one?” he asked.

  I nodded and touched my pocket. “I’m going to hold on to it until we take them all to Fate.

  “Afraid I’ll run off?”

  I just tipped my head and sipped from my water glass.

  He grunted and went back to finishing his bagel. “Okay, what’s next? What do you want to talk about?” He dusted his fingers with the towel, then crumpled it, and set it beside his plate.

  “I want the truth.”

  “Truth about what?”

  “Why you left me.”

  It wasn’t what I had planned to say, but it was what I wanted. My payment, I supposed, for helping him with Fate.

  “Why I left you? To get the coins?” he asked.

  “No. All those years ago. You walked away and never came back. Never told me why.”

  He ran his hand over his face, scratching at the line of his jaw. “We don’t... Do you really want to do this now?”

  “Yes. I’ve been telling myself I owe you this favor because you gave me your ink, your magic, and tied me to this Crossroads in ways that even Stel can’t break.

  “You showed up when I was drowning and dove in after me. But that’s not why I’m doing this for you. Not why I’m helping you.”

  “Oh?” he asked softly. “Then why are you helping me?”

  “No, it’s my turn to ask questions. Why did you leave?”

  He was still, his gaze caught on the horizon of memory. “I regret it,” he finally said, his voice low. “I made...stupid decisions back then. Still do, apparently. That morning...I just wanted, needed to go to my tree.

  “It had been a long time. Years since I’d been with it.”

  I nodded.

  “That was when I found out there had been a change of power among the wizards. Some of them wanted to break off from the traditional teachings. Wanted to reshape the Order to their desires. It got messy. It got violent.”

  “A war?” I hadn’t heard about that. Surely someone would have known if powerful beings like wizards were waging war against each other.

  “As much as. Magic was...forced into spells...the damage...” He rubbed the back of his neck and the ghost tattoos down the back of his arm flared with the faintest light.

  “Sides had to be chosen. There was no option. I threw myself in with the uprising. The rebels.”

  No surprise there. Card had always been an anomaly among wizards. Too much dryad for most to accept him. A little too wild, and sometimes, I thought, a little too...generous.

  Wizards were a cold-hearted, emotionless people. I didn’t know if it was innate to them or if the kindness was trained out of them, but wizards never let their emotions decide their actions.

  “At first, I felt like a hero. Or at least like less of a failure. And I thought, I really did, that I’d be back soon. That any day, the fight would be over, and I’d come walking in, maybe with flowers or fresh fruit. I’d walk onto your land, your house, your kitchen, and everything would be good. Be the same. I’d be welcomed.

  “But then time slipped. People died...and worse. I realized the rebellion was led by someone who was just as power hungry as the wizards on the other side.

  “Power for one and starvation for all. I...couldn’t stay in a fight that would end in deaths, with nothing changed no matter who won.”

  He dropped his hand from his neck. “I was going to leave. I was going to come ho—here.”

  I caught that slip, the second time he’d referred to the Crossroads as home, but I didn’t say anything. I needed to know the rest of his story.

  “And then... I thought I heard my sister. Calling me. It was like waking up out of a bad dream. Years had gone by.”

  “Was it her? Had someone found her?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Was she a target because I chose sides in the war? She’s full dryad. She should have had the protection of her tree, but it’s gone. Dead.”

  I knew what that meant. If she hadn’t found a new heart tree, she would be dead too.

  “But her voice...I heard her. I had to find her. I left. Ran, I suppose. I just...cut ties. I’d certainly had enough practice.”

  He seemed to remember his cooling coffee and lifted the mug for a swallow. “I’ve been looking for her since.”

  “And you didn’t ask for my help? You didn’t come here so I could help you find your sister?”

  “I screwed up. And was too much of a coward to reach out to clear the air.” His voice held a note of defeat I’d never heard before. “I thought you’d moved on. I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

  He wasn’t lying, I could tell from his body language, and also through the thin connection between us.

  “Until you stole from Fate.”

  “Borrowed. Took advantage of the turn of luck that fell into my hands. I mean, it could have been a blessing in disguise, right? I was—still am—desperate for information, and suddenly Fate’s coins fall out of the sky.”

  “Too good to be true. You know that,” I said.

  “Yeah.” He toasted with his coffee. “Just a ploy by Stel to drag me back into the unwinnable wizard’s battle. To not being dead yet.”

  I toasted with my water glass.

  “I want to pay you for this,” he said. “Your kindness. There’s nothing I can do to make the years I left you without any contact right. But I want to do something for your help with the coins. The swamp siren. Stel. Your father. For saving my tree.”

  “Is your tree safe from Stel?”

  “I’ll know if she tries to do anything to it. If she so much as breathes in its direction, she’ll receive several nasty surprises.”

  “So it’s doing okay?”

  His smile was pure joy. “My tree is amazing. There’s a new family of crows who have decided to nest there. The squirrels are not happy about it, which means every nut and seed gets taken, hidden, stolen, re-hidden while everyone makes noise about it. The tree loves it. I think it drops nuts just to stir things up.”

  I smiled. “Sounds like your tree likes causing trouble. No wonder you two fit.”

  “Right? But that tree started here. It can’t be my bad influence that turned it into such a rabble rouser.”

  “Don’t blame it on me. That’s all nurture and zero percent nature.”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe.”

  “You done eating?” I asked. “There’s more in the kitchen.”

  “I’d rather just go face the god. Get it done. Find out if I get to continue my streak of days still alive.”

  “We need to deal with the whole tattoos thing you have too,” I said. “And the Crossroads adopting you.”

  “We do,” he agreed. He didn’t add anything, letting me take the next step.

  “After we deal with Fate,” I said.

  “All right. Now?”

  “Now’s good.” I stood and placed my fingers over the single copper coin in my pocket, just to reassure myself it was still there.

  Card picked up the other two coins and held them tight in his palm. “Ready?”

  “You should...” I mimicked brushing my hair.

  “Oh.” He ran his free palm over his head. It only made things worse.

  Not that it would matter to Fate what he looked like. Still.

  “Here.” I moved over to him and combed his hair back with my fingers.

  His hair was soft and thick, the texture familiar, the way the unruly waves needed to fall, easy for me to remember.

  I was a couple inches taller than him, putting us almost eye-to-eye. Here, this close, I could smell the soft green and, yes, the almost ketchup smell of his oak tree, mixed with the warm clover of his skin.

  He was silent, watching me. If I weren’t tied to him through the magic of the Crossroads, I might have missed the rapid beating of his heart.

  His hand lifted, and his fingertips rested lightly on my hip.

  Electricity zinged through me, but I tried not to let it show.

  “There,” I said, pulling my fingers away and leaning back from the unmistakable heat between us. “Better.”

  He dragged his finger down my hip and let his hand drop to his side.

  “Good?” he asked.

  “Enough,” I answered.

  And I knew we were not just talking about his hair. Somehow we were talking about us.

  His smile was soft, then he looked down and away. “All right, then. Let’s go talk to Fate.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Card walked down the stairs, and I followed. My axe and blade wouldn’t do anything against a god, so I put a little faith in Fate keeping her word, and trusted in the magic of the Crossroads to have my back.

  We walked across the field and about a quarter mile down the road to where Fate had set up her camp.

  The van was strung with little golden star lights. A canopy winged out from one side, offering a nice spot out of the direct sunlight. Soft couches and chairs were gathered there, much too large to have actually fit in the van. Soft silks, pillows, and velvets further added to the comfort.

  The delicious smell of cooking peppers, onion, and lamb grew stronger the closer we came to her camping spot.

  Atropos was at the grill, a spatula in one hand, and her sharp gaze on the food. She’d taken off her leather jacket and wore a black tank top over which she’d donned a frilly pink apron that said: killin’ & grillin’ across the front of it.

  “Morning!” Clotho stepped out of the van, dusting her hands on her skirt. “How did it go? Did you find our coins?”

  “Yes,” I said. I could have let Card speak for himself, but we’d agreed yesterday that I’d be his voice. I’d also given him my protection, so it just seemed natural to take the lead.

  “All three?” Atropos called out. “We agreed on all three.”

  “They know the agreement,” Lachesis said, walking around from behind the van. She wore flowing, wide-legged gauzy pants and a matching top, both of which were covered in watercolor birds.

  She stopped in front of us, gave Card a hard look, then held her hand out to him. “If you please, Cardamom Oak.”

  “We have been diligent in fulfilling our side of the bargain,” I said. “We expect you to remain so also.”

  Clotho nodded. “Our agreement is sealed,” she said. “I mean, it could change, but as it stands now, we’re still agreed that if we get all three coins back—”

  “—by noon today, which is only an hour away!” Atropos yelled.

  “—by noon today,” Clotho added, “we’ll leave his tree in peace.”

  I looked over at Card. He gave me a nod, then stepped forward and placed the coins in Lachesis’ hand.

  “Ah,” she said with something like sorrow in her voice. “Mine, the silver. Atro, yours is here too.”

  “As if I didn’t know.” The crone stumped over and snatched the gold coin out of Lachesis’ hand. “He just gave it to you?” she asked.

  Lachesis nodded.

  There was something they weren’t saying. Something going on beneath the words they shared.

  “How about mine?” Clotho asked with a tremor of what might be hope.

  “I have it,” I said.

  She nodded. “Well, it’s generous of you to offer to give him a hand. How rewarding.”

  Atropos sighed, and Lachesis muttered, “We talked about this, Clo.”

  Clotho’s words sounded an awful lot like the paper Dad had sent with Val.

  * * *

  Never for self, as that life thread has been spun, allotted, and cut, but for another does Fate’s coin spin. A generous heart and a giving hand are rewarded.

  * * *

  It was talking about the coins. How to spend Fate’s coins. Which had to be done with generosity and giving. A gift.

  The siren has said something like that too, that of course the coins hadn’t worked for Card. Because they never would work for the person who took them for their own use.

  But maybe they would work if they were given. If they were a gift.

  “Crossroads?” Clotho said. “Are you going to give me my coin?”

  “No,” I said.

  Card turned to me, his eyes wide. “Ricks? Please? Whatever is between us... I understand your anger...but please?”

  “Cardamom Oak. I have one of Fate’s coins,” I said. “It was given to me by a swamp siren named Lilt Keyva. As a gift. I never stole it. I never took it. I never completed a task for it. I have not spent it. It is not mine. I do not have it for my own use. But now, as I return it to Fate, I will ask one question for someone else. As a gift.”