The Black Coats(4)

Where the hell am I? The map had taken Thea onto a long, wooded stretch of road. Bur oaks and cedar elms hovered over the area, their crooked arms stretched protectively through the space. Shadows passed over Thea’s face as she slowed the car. The houses there were hidden from view by private driveways—their true size tucked away, a privilege of the very wealthy. She kept going, seeing no sign of Black Locust Drive, and pulled the car over when she came to a dead end. Thea got out of the car. The road had ended at a large cypress tree, absolutely massive, its thick trunk swallowing what remained of the road. Thea unfolded the map again, trailing her finger over the twisting path that had led her there. On the map, there it was, Black Locust Drive, and yet she was standing here and there was no house, no road.

The wind picked up and the tree gave a shudder. Its ancient arms—some wider than her body—creaked in the breeze. The roots carved out a hole in the earth around the tree and created a yawning void about five feet deep. An unfriendly finger of dread was creeping its way up her spine, and Thea had the distinct feeling of being watched. She spun around, shoving the envelope and the map into her back pocket, her jeans soaked and stiff. In the tree, a black shape fluttered and caught her eye; Thea squinted to get a better look. A magpie was nestled high in the tree, its sharp beak eating some dead thing.

Thea’s heart leaped. Just over a few branches from the bird, a black envelope hung from a piece of burlap twine, curling in the wind.





Two


Dwarfed by the massive tree, Thea put her hands on her hips, knowing that she looked just like her father at the moment.

“Well, shit.”

She looked into the muddy crevasse, shuddering as a water moccasin slithered across the shallow water. This is crazy. Except, there was no turning back now. There was an answer in that envelope, or maybe in the next one, and besides, she hadn’t been this awake in months. She had forgotten what it felt like to be excited; her heart was pounding, and the gray fog in her brain was lifting. It felt good. It felt scary.

It felt different from grief.

With a wry smile, Thea remembered that she was kind of awesome at this. Last year she had been the Roosevelt High track record holder in both the 200-and 400-meter dash. That was before, of course. Thea backed up about ten feet. She paused, remembering how it felt to soar over hurdles, the momentum pitching her forward. Then Thea broke into a mad run, flying toward the tree.

When her feet hit the lip of the ditch, she hurled herself into the air. Her momentum carried her over the ditch and up to the trunk of the tree. With a sigh of relief, Thea paused for a breath, brushing off her hands on her damp jeans. Okay, she thought. I got to the tree, now how the hell to get up the tree? Jumping was useless, seeing as how the branches were at least eight feet above her.

And then it began to rain, as bouffant gray clouds churned into themselves. Thea felt a sprinkle of water brush her cheeks. “Are you serious?” she shouted at the sky. Why does so much of this adventure have to be wet? Thunder crackled above, and the wind circled angrily around her. She watched as the tree swayed, its vines blown loose from their safe havens. Thea blinked. The vines.

She ran around the trunk, not wanting to lose the momentum of the wind. The branches at the back had the most vines, thick, loopy ropes that choked the huge trunk. She leaped three times before her hand closed around one.

Rain poured down on her face as she looked up.

“You can do this.” Her voice wasn’t as confident as she would have hoped. She planted one foot on the tree and, step by slippery step, began making her way up. The rain was almost blinding at this point, but she kept moving until the lowest branch was close enough to reach. Thea cautiously reached one arm around the slick wood before pulling her legs up. The envelope was maybe only ten feet above her now. Moving as quickly as she dared, she made her way from branch to branch, her hands clutching so hard that they hurt.

She reached for a branch, almost there . . . and then the branch she was standing on broke beneath her feet. Thea lost her footing and caught herself on the branch below her with a loud crack. She gasped as the wind was knocked out of her lungs, and she struggled to hang on. Finally, she inhaled, gulping greedily as she caught her breath—and her balance. The envelope was just above her now. Thea moved up another branch and snatched it with her fingertips. She yanked open the envelope, this time not pausing to admire the rich paper.

Take the slide, then quickly make your way to the black gate.

Mademoiselle Corday waits for you.

Thea steadied herself on the branch beneath her feet, looking at the landscape below. Maybe a quarter of a mile from where the road ended, she could see a thick swath of trees swaying in the violent wind. Her breath caught in her chest. Beside the trees, a black iron weathervane shaped like a butterfly spun in the breeze.

“Oh my God,” Thea muttered. This was real. There was a house in those trees.

And she needed to get inside.

She reached down for the branch below her and stopped with a jerk. Slide. Impossible to see when looking up at the tree, but now perfectly laid out when viewed from above, the trunk of the tree gradually declined into a smooth ramp that would spit her out at the edge of the ditch. This was madness. She should be just getting out of history class right now, hating her existence. Instead, she was going to slide. Thea let go of the branch. After a second of free-falling, she felt the trunk slam hard against her back. The rain sped her descent, and in a few exhilarating seconds the tree dumped her out onto the wet ground.