I stepped outside, welcoming the cool breeze, and willed the voice from earlier to wash away her sentiments.
Good girl.
But it didn’t come. Instead, my stomach continued to pinch painfully, thinking about what she’d said. Thinking about how this might affect Raz. He wasn’t the nicest man to me, but I didn’t want any blame for his punishments. I didn’t want anything I said to make things worse for him. I certainly didn’t want to dole out punishments for anyone else.
Since Granny had saved my life and admitted me here, all I’d wanted was to live in the shadows. I’d wanted a safe, if notpeaceful life, a place for quiet reflection and to remember my mom. That was it. To obtain that, I’d ensured I had enough value that I couldn’t be cast out. But this?
With slight tremors, I made my way back along the path and through the village to my little cottage.
Many of the people in the village feared Granny. They were scared of her punishments, scared of her watch dog, Alexander. I understood why Granny didn’t care—sometimes fear was the only way to motivate people. But she didn’t live amongst them. She wasn’t even here half the time. My situation was different. These people weren’t my friends, many weren’t even cordial, but they weren’t outright enemies, either. Some even tolerated me these days, occasionally smiling in hello when I got my food rations. If I stepped into her shoes, I’d burn all that away. They’d hate me, one and all, obeying me when I had her watchdogs on hand and possibly disposing of me when I didn’t. My life would once again become dangerous and there would be no escape. I didn’t want that. Couldn’t handle it.
There had to be another way. As long as Granny was getting the goods, she wouldn’t press too hard about the details. If the orders got bigger, I’d just need to work harder. Faster, somehow.
My mind turning, I tucked myself into my cottage on the east side of the village and built a fire in the hearth. That done, I settled down onto a chair and watched the flames as I ate.
Run.Leave this place.
I blinked rapidly as his words echoed in my mind. The stranger had sounded urgent. Genuine.
Not the stranger... me. I’d conjured up those words.
It’s not safe for you here. Get out now, tonight. Don’t look back. Find your way to another village and disappear. This is the only warning you’ll get.
It was almost like I’d known what Granny would want of me. Like I was warning myself that things were starting to turnin this village. But where could I possibly go? No one wanted a person like me around, a lesson learned through bloodshed in youth. Even if I did want to leave, how would I get out? The territory was fortified. The punishment for leaving without an escort, without permission, was extreme.
My breath came fast, my chest tight.
It suddenly felt like I was living in a cage.
But that was silly. Granny did all this to protect me. To keep her competitors from getting to me and kidnapping or killing me. From destroying the village. These safety systems were in place to safeguard our homes. I knew they were necessary. She’d spent many nights, especially over the last three years, going over why.
I’d need to figure this out. I could handle more workload. I could. I could draw less, write less, and work more. It would be fine. We’d figure this out.
As I watched the flame, though, I couldn’t help the little voice in the back of my brain wondering what would happen if I didn’t heed the warning.
Chapter 5
Aurelia
The next afternoon, just outside the work shed, I glanced up to find Xarion sauntering toward me. He swung his long arms with a boyish grin spread across his freckled face. Once close, he leaned against a post in the fence by the work shed. The sun highlighted streaks of blond in his otherwise light brown hair.
“What’s up, Red?” He squinted into the sun.
I used my forearm to wipe the sweat away from my face, tempering my annoyance at today’s work being interrupted.
He was about the same age as me—twenty-seven—and had been the closest thing to a friend I’d ever had. His dad had taken off when he was a baby, and his mom hadn’t been overly interested in his upbringing. From twelve to seventeen, we’d hung out almost every day, at first running through the trees or playing ball in the village square, and then experiencing all our intimate firsts together.
Nothing was forever, though. My life had always been proof of that. When he’d started to hang out with his male friends more often, his interest in me quickly waned. Fraternizing with me subjected him to a life of ridicule. Thankfully, by that age,I was already hardened to the emotional backlash of being cast aside or chased away.
He only occasionally stopped by work now, sharing a little gossip and venting about his life. It was a nice distraction from an often mundane existence. It always had been. After the meeting with Granny last night, today just happened to be bad timing.
I quirked an eyebrow at him. “Red? Have you gone blind? My hair is black, not red.” I smashed some Twilight Thistle with a pestle.
“It’s not all black.”
I rolled my eyes. “Black with streaks of gray, then, okay? Let’s all take a moment to notice my premature aging.”
“It’s white, and it’s not premature aging or you wouldn’t have had it when you first got here.”
