blue bloods
DESCRIPTION
blue bloodsTRANSCRIPT
“What‟s your name?”
Serena‟s eyes had been trained on her hands, which
rested in her lap. At the sound of the voice, she looked up
from her seat on the wooden bench that lined the stone
corridor.
“Excuse me?” No one ever addressed her. Surely the
boy in front of her with the soft brown eyes was talking to
someone else. “Who, me?” Her hand fluttered to her heart.
“What‟s your name?” he asked again, crossing his arms.
“I‟ve seen you around the castle and no one will tell me your
name.”
“I‟m Serena,” she said. She tucked her long, blonde hair
behind her ears.
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Seven.”
“I‟m nine.” The boy broke into a grin. “I‟m Brendan. I
mean, Prince Brendan.” He rolled his eyes. “Father says I
should tell people I‟m „Prince Brendan‟. He‟s kind of driving
me nuts.”
Serena felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. One
look at the castle guards – who were all glaring at her – wiped
it away. She dropped her gaze back to her hands, and her hair
fell, forming a curtain around her pale face. “Pleased to meet
you, Your Highness.” Should she stand and curtsy? Since she
had been instructed to sit and not move, she supposed she had
better obey orders.
Prince Brendan threw his arms up in the air, startling
the guards into even more rigid attention, if that was possible.
“See?” he yelled. “That‟s what I‟m talking about! I don‟t want
people calling me „Your Highness‟ and things like that.”
“OK, OK.” Serena held up her hands in defense. “Just
Brendan.”
“That‟s better.” Brendan settled down. He sat on the bench
next to her and slouched against the wall. “Do you live in the
castle?”
Serena shook her head. “My mother and I live in the
mountains, on the northern border of the kingdom.”
“Do you have a father?”
No.
“Do you have any brothers? Sisters?”
Once again, no.
“Me neither. I‟m an only child. I‟ve never been in the
mountains, but I‟m going soon.” He faced her, lifting his chin
and puffing out his chest. “Father says they aren‟t safe. But I‟m
not afraid of anything.”
Brendan popped up off the bench, unsheathing the
short sword he carried in a scabbard at his side. He swung at
imaginary enemies, parrying and thrusting until they were all
vanquished. The guards watched, amusement dancing across
their faces.
Serena watched until the last invisible enemy was
disposed of. She shrugged. “I‟ve lived there all my life, and I‟ve
never felt unsafe.”
Brendan sheathed his sword and looked at her, wide-
eyed. “Who protects you up in the mountains?”
Serena rose to her feet, looking him up and down, her
hands curling into balled fists. “We protect ourselves.” She
lifted her chin and met his gaze.
In his whole life, no other child had stood and faced
Brendan as Serena was doing. When he was four, a nobleman‟s
son had bloodied Brendan‟s nose while they were wrestling in
the muddy courtyard after a spring rain. The boy had been
punished and his father relocated – asked to manage an estate
that had fallen into disrepair on the edge of the kingdom. It
had been driven into the minds of the boys of the court that to
play with the prince could spell disaster for their families.
The girls of the court made pains to avoid him. Appearing
too interested could cause division in their elaborate hierarchy
– made up of ranks only they seemed to understand. They
huddled in groups, each hiding behind her hair, sneaking looks
at him and giggling as he passed, venturing a “Hi, Prince
Brendan” in unison.
Serena‟s boldness surprised him into silence. They eyed
each other. Neither knew what to say.
After a moment, Brendan‟s eyes narrowed. “Wait.” He
held up an accusing hand. “You have no father, no brothers.
You live in the north, so your mother isn‟t one of the
courtiers.” He ticked off these facts on his fingers. “What are
you doing in the castle, then?”
Before Serena could answer, a hand rested on Brendan‟s
shoulder.
“Her kind comes when they‟re called, Your Highness.”
Brendan‟s tutor stood at his side. While he directed his words
toward the prince, he kept his eyes trained on Serena. “I
wouldn‟t pay…” he sneered, looking Serena up and down. “…
This creature any mind.”
“Jeffrey.” The king‟s voice cut in before the tutor could
say more. He strode through the ornate wooden doors, larger
than life, his cloak trailing behind him. Hedda, Serena‟s
mother, was with him, her hands at her sides and her face
almost unreadable. They were flanked by the king‟s guards.
“Hedda is a distinguished member of my Council and, as such,
deserves your respect. I do not take it lightly when I hear
derogatory remarks made toward her or her daughter.
Especially by those employed in my court.”
Jeffrey focused his gaze on a crack in the stone floor.
“Yes, Your Majesty. A thousand apologies.”
The king turned to Brendan. “Wandering the castle
when you should be studying?”
Brendan‟s cheeks flushed. He hung his head, fingering
the hilt of his sword. “I‟m sorry, Father.”
“Back to it, then.”
“Yes, sir.”
Brendan slunk toward his rooms, Jeffrey hot on his
heels. The king turned his attention to Serena, who was
hunched over, wishing she could sink into the floor. Preferably
straight into the dungeons, where no one would ever find her
again.
“Serena.” The king‟s voice was stern, but warm.
“Your Majesty.” This time, she did curtsy.
“I‟m sorry, child, but it seems I have one more item to
discuss with your mother.” He motioned for a guard to escort
Serena out of the building. “Wait by the fountain in the
courtyard.”
Serena curtsied again, and keeping her eyes on the floor as
Jeffrey had, left the castle to wait. Once she was gone, Hedda
spoke.
“Your Majesty, I am so, so sorry,” she began, but the king
interrupted her.
“Let it go, Hedda.”
“I didn‟t realize she would bother the prince. It won‟t
happen again.”
“Let it go.” The king held up a hand, shaking his head, then
started down the hall, motioning to her. “Walk with me.”
Hedda was tall for a woman, as tall as the king. She paced
him, her head held high.
The king glanced at her. “Does Serena have friends? Any
children to play with?”
Hedda started. “Are you joking, Your Majesty?” She looked
at him out of the corner of her eye, under a darkening brow.
Her earrings brushed her neck. “Playmates? My daughter?
What parent would allow it? They see her hair – the paleness
of it. They don‟t have to look her in the eyes to know what
color they are.” She grew louder, finding it difficult to control
her emotions. “No, she most certainly does not have
playmates.”
“Your anger is misdirected, Hedda.” The king‟s voice
contained a warning, and Hedda murmured an apology. He
continued. “There are many who don‟t like that you sit on my
Council. They would rather I ask you to leave my kingdom
than have you as an advisor.”
“People like Jeffrey?” Hedda stood still.
The king sighed. “Jeffrey‟s an ass.” He placed a hand along
her back and guided her along. “In eight years, you‟ve never
given me a single reason not to trust you.” They turned down
another corridor. “I don‟t want you to feel like Serena can‟t
come to the castle when we hold conference or that she has no
place in the fields and on the hillsides of this kingdom, like any
other child.”
“Of course,” Hedda said. “You‟ve always shown her
kindness.”
“Brendan doesn‟t have friends, either, you know.”
Hedda raised an eyebrow at that.
“Oh, he has his hangers-on and those who fancy themselves
his friends, don‟t get me wrong.” The king‟s smile was grim.
“But real friends? No.”
This thought saddened her. “Your Majesty, I didn‟t
know.”
He held up a finger. “I won‟t prevent Brendan from
getting to know Serena. I think it might be good for him. For
both of them, actually. In many ways they may be the only
ones who can understand the other.”
Hedda stopped in her tracks, and stood up even straighter
than before, causing her earrings to sway. “What exactly are
you saying?”
The king sighed again. “They‟re only children, Hedda.” He
turned, giving her his full attention. “What I am saying is that I
will not prevent the son of the king from becoming friends
with the daughter of a sorceress.”
They stood in front of the great iron doors that led to the
courtyard. The king himself reached out, opening the door for
Hedda. He bid her good day. Hedda, stunned, found she was
standing in the courtyard, blinking in the bright light of the
midday sun.
Serena sat on the edge of the fountain, staring at the doors.
When her mother appeared, she dropped the lock of hair she
had been chewing and stood. Hedda strode toward her and
held out her hand to the girl. Serena slipped her hand into
Hedda‟s, and the two continued through the courtyard to the
castle gate, trailed by a guard.
“Am I in trouble, Mother?” Serena‟s eyes brimmed with
tears.
“Shh.” Hedda squeezed her daughter‟s hand. “Of course not,
darling.”
They passed through the gate. “But that man, the tutor; he
was horrible.”
“Never mind him,” Hedda said. “I hear he‟s an ass.”
Serena smiled a bit, causing tears to spill over onto her
cheeks. “Who said that?”
“You‟ll never guess.” She leaned over, kissed Serena on top
of the head, and whispered in her ear. “The king told me.”
Serena giggled and wiped her cheeks.
“Come on.” Hedda swung their hands together. “We‟ve got
a long walk home.”
A few days later, Serena was picking flowers on the southern
slope beneath the Winged River, when she saw Brendan riding
by on his horse. He was alone.
Perhaps he would pass on by and ignore her as so many
others in his father‟s kingdom did. She wanted to talk to him
again, but was afraid. Would he make fun of her? Tease her?
Torment her?
He saw her and waved, redirecting his horse toward her. Her
heart was pounding. Brendan stopped about five yards away
and dismounted, watching. She kept her head down, trying to
focus, even though her attention was fixed on him.
“No tutor today, Your Highness?” She stole a glance at him.
“I told you – call me Brendan.” He grinned. “No tutor. No
guard, either. I‟m getting better at this sneaking out business.”
A smile twitched across her face. She said nothing.
“Is it true, then?” he asked.
“What?” Serena turned to look at him and dropped her
basket on the ground. “Is what true?”
“Is it true that your mother‟s a sorceress? And that you are,
too?”
Serena felt like the air had been squeezed out of her. She
turned away from him, facing the direction of the sea, however
far away it was, and clutched her stomach. He was asking the
question that she saw on the faces of everyone she came
across – a question everyone carried and no one ever dared
ask.
He came and stood next to her, whispering. “It is true.”
Serena could only nod. Brendan tethered his horse, pulling a
stake from a saddlebag and driving it into the ground. The
horse began to graze.
“What‟s it like?” he asked, throwing himself on the ground
and leaning back on his elbows.
Serena sat next to him, her legs folded under her skirts.
“What‟s what like?”
“Having a sorceress for a mother.”
She studied him, looking for any signs of teasing or malice.
His brown eyes were honest and curious. That was all. “I don‟t
know.” She shrugged. “What‟s it like having a king for a
father?”
Brendan lifted his face toward her, shading his eyes from the
sun. “It‟s all kinds of terrible. No one looks at me. But when
they do, they see my dad, not me.”
Serena sighed and flopped on the ground, too. “That sounds
exactly the same as having a sorceress for a mother.”
Brendan watched her. She laced her fingers behind her
blonde head and watched the clouds race across the sky. He
leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head as well. The
horse, attached by its tether, snorted occasionally to rid its
nose of kicked-up pollen.
“Hey.” Brendan turned, squinting at Serena. “Can you do
magic?”
She frowned. “I think so.”
“What do you mean, you think so? What can you do? What
kind of magic?”
“Actually, I‟ve never done any before.”
“Why not?”
“Rules.” Serena gestured toward him with her hand. “Your
father doesn‟t allow us to use magic without his permission.
And Mother hasn‟t worked with me yet. She says I‟m too
young.”
“Oh.” They lay in silence, staring at the sky, each lost in their
own thoughts, until Brendan grabbed her by the hand. “What
if they didn‟t have to find out?”
Serena stopped breathing. She was so surprised, she didn‟t
know what to do, and so she let her hand sit there clenched
between his fingers. After a minute, she exhaled and narrowed
her eyes. “What are you saying?”
He jumped to his feet, pulling her up with him. “What if you
tried to do magic? We could keep it a secret – Father‟d never
have to know.”
“Why would we do that?”
“Oh, come on!” Brendan let her go and whirled around in a
circle, clutching his tunic above his heart. “Well, I want to see
you do magic. You must want to do it, too.” He looked at her
– her blonde hair floating in the wind; her clear blue eyes, wide
as saucers at the moment. She was beautiful. “It must be
killing you to not be able to use it. Don‟t you just want to
scream?”
He was right. She felt like an outsider, even to herself. The
looks and whispers of others didn‟t help either. But he was
scaring her. Practice magic? What if the king found out? What
would happen? She had no idea. Instinctively, she stepped
away.
“No.” She shook her head. “I can‟t.”
“Serena, please.” He walked toward her, leaning over to look
her in the eyes. “I swear to you, I will never tell. It will be our
secret. Just you and me. We can do this. Together. You and
me.”
“You and me.” She echoed his words, liking the way they
sounded.
“Just try one thing – something small.”
Serena looked around, trying to think of something. The
wind whipped her hair across her face and Brendan‟s horse
whickered. An idea came to her. She smiled, and closed her
eyes.
“What are you – ” Brendan began.
“Shh!” Serena said. “Let me think.” She pressed the heels of
her hands against her eyes and stood like that for a very long
time.
It was all Brendan could do to keep quiet. He stood as still as
possible, fidgeting from one foot to the other, but he dared
not pace. He began to bite his nails.
Finally, Serena dropped her arms and opened her eyes. “OK.
I‟m done.”
“What?” Brendan looked at her. She looked the same. “What
did you do?”
Just then, his horse nosed him, nudging his pockets, looking
for a treat. Brendan whirled around and grabbed the animal by
the bridle. “Willow? What in the? How‟d you get off your
lead?”
Serena‟s hands flew to her mouth, covering her giggles.
Brendan whipped around, looking at her. “You did that?”
Her face was flushed and she nodded. “That was fun.”
A slow smile made its way across Brendan‟s face. “Nice
trick.”
“Let‟s do it again,” they said in unison. They both laughed.
They met again in the same field. They met on the beach,
around the bend from the mouth of the river, away from the
fisherman with their nets and gossipy wives and smell of fish.
They met in the woods at the base of the northern mountains,
near Serena‟s home, and traipsed all over the forested slopes.
Serena was afraid her mother would find out what they were
doing. She didn‟t want to draw suspicion to her activities, and
she felt so bad for being gone, that she made sure to help
around the house as much as possible. This had the added
benefit of her acquiring much more knowledge about her
craft, as she paid closer attention to things that escaped her
before. Hedda had always let Serena read her books, but the
girl found that her mother had a way of moving, speaking, and
attending to even the most mundane of tasks. Serena realized
that, despite the king‟s prohibitions, her mother did indeed use
magic all the time. It was more of a way of being for her than
it was a conscious act. Hedda could no more stop practicing
magic than she could stop breathing.
When Serena was fourteen and Brendan sixteen, he asked
her to spar with him using her magic against his sword. She
was rather frightened at first and balked, but he was convinced
that she was ready. It was true. She was ready.
They started with simple spells. He deflected them easily
enough. They attempted more complicated maneuvers.
One winter day, they climbed through the forest near her
home. Snow blanketed the lowlands, but under the close trees,
only patches of snow dotted the ground. The midday sky was
dark and the air was thick with the static that precedes a storm.
It made Serena nervous. She had no mittens and shivered
under her shawl as they walked.
Brendan noticed. “Are you cold?” He shook off his overcoat
and threw it around her shoulders.
Serena chattered her thanks to him and pushed her arms
through the sleeves. The coat engulfed her – the cuffs hung
past her fingertips. It radiated warmth. Grateful, she breathed
in deeply – it smelled like him. With numb fingers, she
fastened the buttons.
“How much farther do you want to go?” Serena asked.
“There‟s a storm coming. I don‟t want to get caught in it.”
Brendan was in front. He turned around and grinned, one
hand on the hilt of his sword. “What? Are you afraid we won‟t
find our way back?”
They knew this mountain as well as they knew their own
quarters. Serena forced away the smile forming on her face.
“Well, I suppose now that I have your coat, I‟m ready for the
snow.” She held up the oversized sleeves and lifted her chin.
“Never mind. I take it back.”
He laughed. “Let‟s get to where the ground levels out, and
then we‟ll practice. I don‟t want to stay long either – I‟ve a
longer ride home than you, provided my horse is still there
when we get back.”
Serena giggled.
They didn‟t have much farther to walk. When they stopped
climbing, Brendan pulled a secondary sword out from under
his coat and tossed it to Serena. Her hands, hidden under the
cuffs of his coat, were cold and clumsy, and she dropped it.
“Can‟t use your magic to get it to stick?” Brendan teased.
“I can‟t read your mind, if that‟s what you mean.” She flicked
her head, whipping strands of hair over her shoulder.
“Good.” He winked at her and covered the distance between
them in a few short strides, picking the sword up off the
ground. When he stood, he was so close that he couldn‟t focus
on both her eyes at once – his gaze kept darting from one of
her eyes to the other.
She felt his warm breath on her cheeks; her heart was racing.
They had stood this close many times while sparring. Why
should it so unnerve her now? She blinked and shook her
head, breaking the trance.
Brendan backed up, swinging the sword down low in an arc.
He flipped it over in the air and held it by the blade, presenting
her with the hilt. “Are you ready?” he asked.
“Of course.” She felt sluggish in Brendan‟s coat, so she
shrugged out of it and laid it across a large rock. That was
better. She took the sword with trembling fingers.
Brendan drew his own sword from his scabbard, and backed
up even farther, cutting circles in the air. She faced him and he
came swinging at her right away. She lifted her blade to meet
his, smiling. Fighting put her at ease. After a while, Serena
tossed him the sword, which he caught neatly, and turned
aside to blow into her hands, trying to warm them. It would be
hard to use magic when her hands were so cold.
Before she knew what was happening, Brendan stood right
in front of her. “Let me help,” he said. He took her hands in
his, rubbing her fingers with his thumbs.
Serena felt caught, like a rabbit in a snare. “I‟m fine.” She
backed up, tripped over a root, and landed hard, wincing.
Brendan chuckled, and reached down, pulling her to her feet.
Her balance was unsteady and she found herself struggling for
footing, yet held solid in his grip. She focused her gaze on his
collar, avoiding his eyes.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “Shall we practice?”
Something changed in his face. He let her go. “Fine.”
Brendan turned and walked several yards away. He
stopped and faced her, his sword held at the ready, waiting for
her first spell.
Serena didn‟t move. She felt a bit unhinged, not sure
what was going on or why everything felt off today. Perhaps it
was the pressure of the coming storm. They sky only seemed
to get darker. They should practice and be done and get home
before the snow started coming down.
She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to
focus. When she opened them, she cast her first spell toward
Brendan. He swung his sword, deflecting it easily.
She threw another, which he sliced away, and another.
“Is that all you‟ve got?” he asked, swinging his sword in
one of his circles.
Serena found herself hoping he would nick his ear, just for
the change of pace. She didn‟t answer him – just gritted her
teeth and cast another spell. He knocked it aside. She swore
under her breath.
“Come on, Serena!” he yelled. “Don‟t make me come
over there!”
She threw one spell after the other, none of them
connecting well, all of them too easy for the young prince.
With each one he deflected, he took a step toward her. She
kept casting, and he kept walking, until he was close enough
that it was unsafe to use his sword. Breathing hard, she gave
up. They watched each other for a few moments, arms at their
sides, neither speaking. Serena found she was shivering again.
“What‟s wrong?” Brendan put his sword away, took her
hands in his and held them up to his chest. “Still too cold?”
He pressed her palms against his velvet over-tunic and covered
her hands with his own.
“I‟m fine,” she began. “I mean, yes, I‟m a bit cold, but…”
She felt flustered and began again. “Brendan, what are you
doing?” She tried to pull her hands away, but he held them
fast. “Please.”
“What?” he asked.
“My hands.” She tried to pull them away. “May I have them
back, please?”
He considered this then shook his head. “I don‟t think so.
Not until you tell me what‟s going on.” He leaned closer. “You
haven‟t been this easy to beat in months.”
“Me tell you what‟s going on?” She stared at him, mouth
agape. “I could ask you the same thing. Since when do you
give me your coat? Or take my hands? Or help me off the
ground when I fall? If anyone is acting strangely today, it‟s not
me, it‟s …” That was as far as Serena got, because right then
Brendan leaned forward and kissed her.
It didn‟t last long. As soon as Serena realized what was
happening, she pushed him away.
“What is WRONG with you today?” she yelled at him,
wiping his kiss from her lips. She was trembling and wrapped
the loose ends of her shawl around her shoulders, hugging her
arms.
Snow began to fall. They both looked up at the sky. Brendan
held up his hands to catch flakes, which melted as soon as they
touched his palms.
Serena raised her shawl to cover her head. “Let‟s go,
Brendan.” Her throat ached and she was afraid tears would
spill over at any moment. She didn‟t want him to see her cry.
He lowered his face and looked at her. She couldn‟t read his
eyes.
Brendan sighed. “There‟s nothing wrong with me, you
know.” He ran a hand through his hair, knocking off
snowflakes. “There‟s a beautiful girl standing right in front of
me. Who wouldn‟t want to kiss her? There‟d be something
wrong with me if I didn‟t try.”
“Stop it.”
“Oh, come on.”
“I mean it.” The tears spilled over, betraying her. “Just…
stop.”
“Why?”
“Who would want to kiss me?” She couldn‟t look at him; tear
tracks ran down her cheeks. “No one, Brendan, that‟s who.
I‟m a sorceress, remember?
“I know what you are.” He took a step toward her. “I don‟t
care.”
“Don‟t.” She held up her hand and glared at him, swiping at
her face with the edge of her shawl. “Don‟t do this. Did you
know that people whisper when I walk by? Mothers reach for
their children. No one will look me in the eye. The older I get,
the worse it is.”
“I‟m not afraid of you, Serena.”
“Well, maybe you should be.” She took a step toward him,
holding up a finger in his face. “You think that because you
meet me in secret every so often, that that changes how
everyone else in this kingdom sees me? You think they care
that the prince is friends with the witch? There‟s not a girl in
that court who wouldn‟t give her right arm to be your wife –
to be queen one day. Every one of them would get rid of me.”
Serena turned and started walking.
Brendan‟s face darkened. “So now you read minds?”
She whirled around. “It‟s written all over their faces!” Serena
wrapped her shawl tighter around herself. “And they whisper,
too. Seriously, Brendan, just how thick are you?”
“Hey.” He pointed at her. “I‟m still the prince. You can‟t talk
to me that way.”
“Right.” Serena rolled her eyes. “Maybe it‟s time I stopped
calling you Brendan and started honoring the king‟s wishes. A
thousand apologies, Your Highness.” She curtsied deeply, and
turned away from him. “I‟m going home.”
Brendan strode toward her and grabbed her by the arm,
turning her around. “Now, wait just a minute.”
“Let go of me.” Serena wrested her arm out of his grip. He
reached for her again and she knocked his hands away. “I
don‟t care if you are the prince. Don‟t you dare touch me.”
She backed up a few paces, her footing solid. Snow fell around
them, and everything was in focus.
Brendan stood still, his arms at his sides. Her searched her
eyes. “Can we please talk about this?”
“Oh, we‟re done.” Once again, Serena turned to go.
“Wait.” Brendan lunged for her. She dodged him and he
stumbled, arms flailing.
Without thinking, Serena cast a binding spell at him. It hit
him in the side, flashing light as it connected. She closed her
eyes, wincing at the brightness. When she opened them, he
was gone.
“Brendan?” All her anger evaporated. She circled, looking for
him. “Brendan? Where are you?”
He didn‟t appear.
“Brendan, come on.” She stood, her arms crossed, waiting
for him to saunter up to her from the trees. That silly grin of
his would be plastered across his face. “This isn‟t funny, OK?
I‟ll stay. We can talk.”
When several minutes passed and he still hadn‟t shown up,
she sank to the ground and leaned against a large rock to wait,
shivering. The snow fell harder, blanketing her head and
shoulders. Where was he? She had hardly blinked; he couldn‟t
be very far.
Serena thought about the spell she had cast – she had never
felt that much power flowing through her before. Her only
goal had been to keep him from grabbing hold of her again;
she hadn‟t meant to hurt him.
“Oh, no.” Serena‟s voice was a whisper. “What have I
done?” She scrambled to her feet, closed her eyes, and tried to
think. She had used a binding spell – what if it had been too
strong, too powerful? Her eyes flew open. She was rather
angry when she cast it; she hadn‟t been in control. She tried to
recall a reversing spell, but nothing came.
What would he do if she called him back from wherever he
was? He would be so angry. He might even tell his father that
she had been practicing magic without permission. What
would the king do? It would be the dungeons, for sure. Or
worse. “This was all your idea, you know,” she called out to
the trees.
Her mother would know how to handle this – she could
reverse the spell. Her mother. Serena covered her mouth with
her hands. This magic was beyond what Serena thought she
could do. What if the king blamed Hedda instead? What would
he do to her? The thought was unbearable. Serena couldn‟t
bring Brendan back; she would lose everything. And she
wasn‟t going to let that happen. She dropped her arms to her
sides and her hands balled into fists.
He was gone. Serena wouldn‟t tell her mother. The less her
mother knew, the easier it would be to keep anything from
happening to her. “We protect ourselves,” she whispered.
Serena stood up straight, shook the snow off her shoulders,
and lifted her chin. That was settled, then. She started back
down the mountain; fresh flakes hid her footprints almost
immediately. Her mother would worry about her being caught
out in the storm.
Brendan‟s coat, which he had given her to wear and had
smelled like him, still lay on a rock. Within a few hours, it was
covered completely with snow.