Fairy Tale: Winter's Bite

Chapter 25: Oh, Brother (Part 2)

Chris was lost.

He tried to find his way back to the hut at the first sign of light, but he came to an opaque boundary, cloudy with pastel colors. He knew not to step through it or he might not be able to return. For a second, the thought appealed to him. He could find the twins and escape . . . be human again.

He retraced his steps, eventually heard the sound of falling water, and followed it to the lagoon. Covered in mud from head to toe, he decided to rinse off. He was also worried about his birthday present. The baseball bat might have fallen into the water when he fell in with Cassie. She had worked hard on it. The least he could do was look for it.

As he expected, it wasn't on the rock where they had been sitting the night before. So he dove into the water. He made a few attempts to find it in the grass and the muck, but he couldn't see very well. He decided to look another day, when the sun was out. After that, he had no more excuses. He had to stop stalling, return to the hut, and face what he had coming to him.

Chris held his breath for a moment, then exhaled as he pushed the door open.

Joe was the only one around.

Great. . .

He was browning toast over the fire and did not turn to look. Chris avoided eye contact as well. Just when Chris believed he might be able to go about his business without incident, Cassie popped out of her room and took a seat at the kitchen table.

She didn't say anything and only cast an occasional sad glance in his direction, but her presence set the mood—tense and instigative, worse than Chris ever remembered.

Joe set his toast down and spread his honey with exaggerated movements, suggesting to Chris that the silent treatment was about to end. Chris tried to brace himself for the worst.

"Hey, Chris. You might want to try sleeping sometime. You never know. It might grow on you."

Chris didn't acknowledge his brother in any way. A retort was not worth the brainpower. Instead, he grabbed a rucksack off a hook on the wall and dropped it in the empty corner by the front door.

He began to pack—a change of clothing, rain gear, and the necessities for building shelter. With a canteen in hand, he headed to the kitchen area. As much as he wanted to avoid it and them, he couldn't leave without food and water.

Joe clunked his plate on the table but never sat down. His prowling stance made it clear that eating a hot breakfast was not a priority. "You're such a mess sometimes, Chris, it's almost endearing."

Chris glanced down at himself. His clothes were still covered in mud and grass stains, and light brown water was running down his arms and legs, leaving little puddles everywhere he went.

He shrugged and kept moving. He's not worth it. Ignore. Avoid. You'll be out of here in ten minutes, so keep your cool.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cassie tap Joe on the arm. Then she shook her head and her eyes flared at him. It was a warning—leave Chris alone—and a smile started creeping in as Chris turned away.

Listen to her . . . for once.

Chris made the smile disappear as his face came back into view. Joe's scowl suggested he had seen it anyway.

He walked past Joe and slipped into the bathroom. He cleaned up, changed his clothes, and hoped that when he stepped out Joe would be exercising more restraint.

But Joe was there waiting for him, blocking his path. Chris shouldered him out of the way, hard enough for Joe to get the message.

Joe stumbled backward, more for dramatic effect than balance, and ricocheted off the flexible wall. Once that performance was through, he cleared his throat to deliver the line he was probably waiting for the opportunity to use. "It appears you want to pin everyone against the wall these days for one reason or another."