Forty-two:
Anya Ashland
Something was wrong.
The Hunters had been gathering around the edges of the town, Crimson was missing, so was Zaan, and Raoul. Grandmother had locked us all in the cabin as if she were preparing for something. Gerard had taken to his shop, and he seemed to be making swords as if there were a war coming.
Grandmother herself was in the kitchen, humming, and banging as she seemed to be making potions and charm bags.
“What is going on?” I demanded of my grandmother.
I had the children up in their room, playing. Anything to keep them distracted from the strange energy that seemed to have taken over the town.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Grandmother said.
“Yes, you do,” I said, “there’s something strange going on, an
