A few weeks ago she had pressed Pick so hard about it that he had finally revealed something new.
“It has to do with who you are, Nest!” he snapped, facing her squarely. His brow furrowed, his eyes steadied, and his rigid stance marked his determination to lay the matter to rest for good. “You think about it. I’m a sylvan, so I was born to the magic. For you to have knowledge of the magic and me, you must have been born to it as well. Or, in the alternative, share a close affinity with it. You know the word, don’t you? ‘Affinity’? I don’t have time to be teaching you everything.”
“Are you saying I have forest-creature blood?” she exclaimed softly. “Is that what you’re saying? That Fm like you?”
“Oh, for cat’s sake, pay attention!” Pick had turned purple. “Why do I bother trying to tell you anything?”
“But you said…”
“You’re nothing like me! I’m six inches high and a hundred and fifty years old! I’m a sylvan! You’re a little girl! Forest creatures and humans are different species!”
“All right, all right, settle down. I’m not like you. Thank goodness, I might add. Crabpuss.” When he tried to object, she hurried on. “So there’s an affinity we share, a bond of the sort that makes us both so much at home in the park…”
But Pick had waved his hands dismissively and cut her off. “Go ask your grandmother. She’s the one who said you could do magic. She’s the one who should tell you why.”
That was the end of the matter as far as Pick was concerned, and he had refused to say another word about it since. Nest had thought about asking Gran, but Gran never wanted to discuss the origins of her magic, only what the consequences would be if she were careless. If she wanted a straight answer from Gran, she would have to approach the matter in the right way at the right time and place. As of now, Nest didn’t know how to do that.
Pick jumped down onto her shoulder from a low-hanging branch as she neared the gap in the hedgerow. It used to frighten her when he appeared unexpectedly like that, like having a large bug land on you, but she had gotten used to it. She glanced down at him and saw the impatience and distress mirrored in his eyes.
“That confounded Indian has disappeared!” he snapped, forgoing any greeting. “Two Bears?” She slowed.
“Keep moving. You can spit and whistle at the same time, can’t you?” He straddled her shoulder, kicking at her with his heels as you might a recalcitrant horse. “Disappeared, gone up in a puff of smoke. Not literally, of course, but he might as well have. I’ve looked for him everywhere. I was sure I’d find him back at that table, looking off into the sunrise with that blank stare of his. But I can’t even find his tracks!”
“Did he sleep in the park?” Nest nudged her way through the hedgerow, being careful not to knock Pick from his perch. “Beats me. I scouted the whole of the park from atop Daniel early this morning. Flew end to end. The Indian’s gone. There’s no sign of him.” Pick pulled and tugged mercilessly at his beard. “It’s aggravating, but it’s the least of our troubles.”
She stepped into the park and crossed the service road toward the ball diamonds. “It is?”
“Trust me.” He gave her a worried glance. “Take a walk up into the deep woods and I’ll show you.”
Never one to walk when she could run, Nest broke into a steady jog that carried her across the open expanse of the central park toward the woods east. She passed the ball fields, the playgrounds, and the toboggan run. She rounded the east pavilion and skirted a group of picnickers gathered at one of the tables. Heads turned to look, then turned away again. She could smell hot dogs, potato salad, and sweet pickles. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her breath felt hot and dry in her throat. The sunlight sprinkled her with squiggly lines and irregular spots as she ran beneath the broken canopy of the hardwoods, moving downhill off the high ground toward the bayou and the deep woods beyond. She passed a couple hiking one of the trails, smiled briefly in greeting, and hurried on. Pick whispered in her ear, giving her directions interspersed with unneeded advice about running between trees.