EVERETT WAS WAITING BY THE TREE WHEN I EMERGED THE NEXT morning. "Dude, how long have you been standing there?" I asked.
"Long enough," he said. He looked unusually nervous. "Can I ask you something?"
"Yeah, shoot."
"Why did Ginny pretend like she couldn't analyze Sadie's DNA? You know anything about that?"
"I don't," I said. And I didn't. Who knows why Ginny does what Ginny does?
"Okay, well how about one you will know: Why didn't you want me to let Sadie do the Fateor on my arm?" he asked.
"Did you want the symbols there forever?" I asked, hoping the evasion would work.
It didn't. "That's it? You cared about how my wrists look? I find that hard to believe."
"Then don't believe it," I said, making my way toward the house. "Anything else?"
"Yeah, actually. Did Ginny tell you what she figured out last night?"
"About the male and female human symbols? I told her to leave that alone for now," I said.
"That's not what I meant, actually, so you'll need to explain those later. I was talking about Anthony's vision. You know, the snow?" he asked. "Sadie's freaking out about it."
"Oh, yeah. That." I had no idea what he was talking about. "Well let me talk to Ginny and see if we can figure out how to keep Sadie calm." I clapped him on the shoulder and bounded into the house, looking to escape. And looking for Ginny.
Ginny was smudging eyeliner across her eyelids when I found her. "Does it look sexy?" she asked.
"Gorgeous," I said, hopping up on her bathroom counter. This was the only way to get anything from Ginny: to pretend what you wanted was no big deal. "What did you tell Everett last night that's got him all worked up?" I asked.
"Baby bro, I was with you all night. When could I have possibly told Everett anything interesting?" she said as she went to work on the other eye.
"Don't play me, sugar," I said. "What did Anthony see? What about snow? Sadie seems to be unsettled over it."
"He told Sadie? Shit," she said, putting away the makeup.
I laughed at her. "You thought he wouldn't?"
"No! I told him not to. That was supposed to stop him."
"You haven't been paying attention, have you?"
"Apparently not enough," she said. "Well I'm sure this is about to blow up. Let's get downstairs before we miss the fun."
I grabbed her on her way out. "Forgetting something, aren't you? Gin, what did you see?"
She bit her lip. "Anthony's vision of the war . . . it changed."
"Impossible. No vision has ever changed."
"I know," she said. "But it did. Now there's snow."
"How sure are you?" I asked.
"Pretty positive. Blood shows up a lot better on snow than it does on grass," she said stiffly.
That was . . . an image.
"How's Dad taking it?" I asked.
"How would I know? It's not like he's admitted this happened. I just swiped it off him."
This was getting more disastrous by the second. "So with a change in the vision, this means we don't have a timeline for the war. It means we don't even know if the original vision is true. It means . . ."
She stopped at the door before jumping the railing. "It means nothing is certain. Not anymore."
DOWNSTAIRS, SADIE SAT STIFFLY ON A COUCH AND STARED INTO A FIREPLACE that wasn't burning. Everett hovered near her. I caught his eye. "A word."
He stepped aside to talk to me. "Yes?"
"What the hell is about to happen?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "Sadie packed. So I think we're about to follow Sadie wherever Sadie goes."
"Don't we always?" I said half-heartedly.
Just then, Dad walked into the room with the rest of our family, the other Survivors trickling in. News spread quickly in a house where everyone could hear each other.
Sadie stood up when she saw Dad. "Anthony, we need to talk," she said. Her eyes were narrow and angry.
An idiot as usual, Dad thought he could get out of it by saying, "Maybe you and I should take a walk then?" He never did understand Sadie. He thought she was the bullheaded and angry mess of Madeline mixed with the long-years version of the once self-pitying, insane Ginny, and he couldn't believe she was the one calling the shots. I wasn't sure why he thought he was much better.
"I think we need to talk in front of everyone. Something interesting has come to light about the war, and since we are all invested, we should all know," Sadie said, holding her ground. God, I loved this new version of her.
"Okay," Dad said. "What do you want to talk about?"
"Your vision of the war. You know, the one that's been the same for the last hundred years or so."
Dad swallowed, choosing his words carefully. I couldn't wait to see how he would spin this. "What about it?" Ah, total evasion. Totally lame.
"The snow, Anthony. Tell me about the snow," she said. By now everyone in the room was on edge, not understanding what was going on but sure it was bad. Dad didn't answer, which was troubling. He was usually pretty good at thinking on his feet. But I saw a glimmer in his eye of something I'd never seen before: doubt.
He had never had a vision change. He had to be as scared as anyone that it had. I mean, he'd never admit that, but that didn't make it any less true.
"We're waiting," Sadie said.
Then Mom stood up. "Anthony?" she asked softly.
He sighed and, shockingly, went for the truth. "Last night the vision rolled through my mind like it does periodically, only something was different about it."
"Different? Like you don't see members our family killing each other?" Hannah asked, a pure joy radiating through her face.
"Unfortunately, no," he said. "It appears that in the vision, now there is snow on the ground."
"Does that matter?" Noah asked, not knowing how this worked, I guess.
"It matters a lot," Sadie said. "It means that our timeframe has changed. It means that the war isn't coming before the first snowfall. And come to think of it, we have no reason to think the war will even happen in this snowfall. We just know that it will happen at some point while snowing, that is unless it changes again. Mostly, it means that everything we believe based on Anthony's vision is now in question."
"Now wait a minute," Dad said. "That's jumping to ridiculous conclusions. It doesn't change anything about the validity of this vision or any other I've had."
"Doesn't it?" she said. "I thought the whole point of your visions was that they happened — what was the phrase you used to describe them? — "apart from anyone's will or intent.' You called them "certain.' You were certain that Mark would be your son, become a warrior, and fight in this war. You were certain that this war would happen as you saw it in the vision. Now what? Now maybe it's not a vision at all."
Dad's face went as red as his eyes. "I will not sit here and let you insult my power. I've lived ten times as many lives as you have, and you best not forget that I am more pow—"
I cut him off. "Dad!" I barked, hoping to shut him up. "She's just working it out in her head. A vision has never changed before, that's fact. She's considering why it might have, right Sadie?"
"Right."
"Dad, do you have any idea why the vision may have changed?" I asked, giving him a platform on which to explain himself. That way I could look like my allegiance was to him.
But he stumbled. He didn't have a ready lie in place, exposing a crack in his politician-style façade. Finally he just said, "I am working to determine the cause of it now. But in the meantime, this should not change our plans. We should continue preparing for the war. We shouldn't take this as an out. I've been grooming Marcus for this war for 100 years. It wouldn't hurt anyone in this room to have a few more years of practice under their belts." Ah, my father, who thought everyone was content to live in a perpetual state of war-game.
"I hoped you would feel this way, Anthony," Sadie said. But it was all over Dad's face that something was about to go in a way he wouldn't like. She had set him up; I had unknowingly abetted. "I think you're right. Some of us do need more practice time, most notably the Red Bloods, but others of us have new things to focus on now."
"Like what?"
"Never mind that," she said. "All I need from you, Anthony, is to do what you are best at. Train our little army for this war. Meanwhile, I'm going to take the trackers, and Ginny and Everett, and hunt down anything I can to take out Raven before he takes us out. I refuse to live my life inside this mansion in fear, waiting for the day the rogues, or Raven, or whoever descend upon us. I'm going to fight."
I L-O-V-E-D this version of Sadie.
"Awesome," I said. "I'm in." Anthony scowled at me. Whatever, he'd had me for a century. I was ready to do what I damn well pleased.
"Thanks, Mark," Sadie said. "Ben? Noah?"
"We're in," Noah said.
She didn't check with Everett and Ginny because she didn't have to. "Wonderful. We'll leave today," she said, and turned to walk out of the room. "Oh, one more thing. Madeline, Patrick, I have an assignment for you."
Patrick raised his eyebrows. Sadie continued, "It's your job to find Narcisa and figure out what she's been doing and what her role in this has been. If you think you can't handle procuring this information from her, then bring her to me."
Then she was gone. And the rest of us sat in a stunned silence.
My dear mother broke it. "No time to waste then. Sarah, let's get an apothecary bag together for her. She's going to need it." Mom left the room, and Sarah and Hannah followed.
Madeline looked to Patrick, and said, "Well, let's get to it," and headed out of the house. Patrick followed her, on Sadie's orders or his wife's, I couldn't tell.
I sensed Dad was going to speak, to say something disparaging about Sadie, or to give us an order of his own. But I didn't want to let him. So I said, "Well, team. Time to pack." Then I hopped up the fallen trees and launched myself onto the third floor.
Everyone followed except Ginny, who went outside. Where are you going? I asked her, hoping she'd hear my mind. Seconds later, my phone buzzed with a text from her. Kutoyis. My assignment. I put the phone back in my pocket, went into my room, threw a few things in a backpack I'd probably get annoyed with carrying and discard, and then killed time until we went wherever Sadie would take us.