Clay took my arm and propelled me forward. "Remember what I said about relaxing? He hasn't been back from the boats in days. Busy protecting his stash. But trust me, when he is about to come back, the admin guys will be the first to know – you positioned yourself well."
The tension left my shoulders. "So if he is not here – how does he collect the energy? And what exactly does it do for him?"
Clay shrugged. "No one really knows the specifics. But he has increased his strength significantly since the galas have started. Trust me, if I knew I would've found some way to sabotage it by now. As it is, the most I've done in that department is dispose of all the strawberries in camp."
I laughed out loud. "Strawberries?"
"They're an aphrodisiac, you know."
"So they say."
We stopped at the perimeter of Erika's tents. "Well, this is as far as I go," Clay said.
I bent down to hug him.
"What was that for?" he asked.
"I'm glad to have you, is all." I smiled. We had to untangle my hair from his beard before we could part fully. "Why do you keep that thing?"
He ran his fingers through it. "Warmth, mainly. And it makes a handy napkin."
I ran my fingers through my own hair.
"Besides, if I ever need to ditch camp, a quick shave – maybe some thicker shoes for height, and no one here would probably recognize me."
I nodded. "Your hair is pretty recognizable."
He raised his eyebrow at me. "As is yours."
* * *
Before returning to my tent, I sought out a pair of scissors.
Erika was able to produce them. "You're not going to cause problems with these, are you?" She twirled the scissors on her finger. I had a flashback of someone flourishing a two-fingered salute. I shook my head, now wasn't the time to explore forgotten memories.
"If you think I'm going to harm myself – or someone else, no. I just want to change up my look." I held out my hand.
She placed the scissors in it, handle first. "I have some former hairstylists; probably can do it up right."
I smiled but kept my gaze down at the metal in my hands. Moonlight glinted off the sharp blades. "No thanks, I need to do this on my own."
I turned, then stopped and asked over my shoulder, "But do you know any tattoo artists?"
She nodded. "A few."
"Maybe send them my way tomorrow?"
"I'll see if I can pull strings – get one of them off their working parties."
I turned, facing her. "I'll need all of them."
Once in my tent, I zipped up the door behind me and fell to my knees. No need to delay the inevitable. I snipped off a brown and gold curl toward the front.
That one always got in my eyes anyway, I told myself.
Outside, music started up at the gala. Drums, strings, and even a flute gave their all to the party. I snipped another piece.
And that one had some grey in it. Good riddance.
Unexpected tears sprang to my eyes, watering the growing pile of hair below me. Bee loved playing with my hair. As a baby, she would wrap her fingers around and around my strands while she fed. Once a little older, we would twist each other's hair on top of our heads and pretend they were crowns.
Forest princesses, her small voice echoed in my head.
Would she even recognize me now?
My hands moved quicker, cutting away without hesitation. Try as I might to block them, the memories came flooding back. Frozen locks breaking off in my hand after I saved Alex from the Chakra's icy lake. Holding my hair back while Micah clasped the butterfly necklace around my neck. Golden brown tresses rising with static electricity when I forced lightning to destroy the handfasting location Shawn desecrated.
Between sobs, I shouted out loud, "Damn it!" Why is this so hard? It's just hair, for Christ's sake. I moved to the final few curls at the back.
One more memory came; Micah in bed with me, smoothing back my hair and calling me 'mop head'.
The scissors snipped my finger, and I dropped them. Holding my bleeding hand, I still cried. Blood, tears, and hair swirled together, making one messy pile of Kaitlyn, left behind. I crawled into my sleeping bag, cocooning myself off from the world and hiding from the building energy within the camp.
* * *
"Easy there, princess."
My shoulders sank. I'd never had a recurring dream that was so damn frustrating. I looked into Shawn's cold, blue eyes. If my nightmares had done one thing for me, it had made those eyes less intimidating. I leaned to the right. His eyes followed. Then I leaned to the left, going a little further. He watched to a point, but then his eyes drifted back to where I should have been standing. I returned to my position.
"Where is the baby?"