Dinner was fragrant and hearty: rosemary, butter, and goat cheese melting around a stew of rabbit and potatoes. It was a sickening contrast to the bile churning in my stomach. There were simply too many villagers with the beginnings of shadows leaking into their cheeks and fingernails.
“How was your visit to the village?” Father asked, reaching into his bowl to pluck out a stray rabbit bone.
“It went as expected,” I responded politely, ever striving to be the dutiful daughter. Elliot frowned, chewing the inside of his cheek. It had gone as expected, except for Isaac.Waste of a vial.“We distributed the rest of the vials. Will there be more to give tomorrow?”
Father snorted at this. “Yes, but the supply is nearly empty. Scarcely a week’s worth, if that.” He gnawed on the bone absentmindedly, snapping it in two and using the pointy end to clean his teeth. His dark brown beard nearly covered his mouth, so the steady flash of teeth, bone, and rabbit sinew was more unsettling than it should have been. “Our own supply is dwindling, too. Be mindful with your rations tonight.”
I closed my eyes, momentarily losing myself. Isaac, along with the other Norhavellian Corrupt, would soon be cleansed and buried by the Light Bringer. Their souls would be saved from wandering eternally in the dark, unable to find their way back to the Maker’s light.
I clenched my hands together. Thumbed away imaginary dirt.
The Light Bringer was exalted across the kingdom for his ability to purify souls, but it only worked if the Corrupt was alive. If aCorrupt died before they were cleansed, their human soul would perish, and the demon would be free to be reborn in the dreams and skin of another.
Wind rustled through the house, forcing the old wood to creak and groan, and I couldn’t help picturing a demon leering at us through the kitchen windows. It would probably crawl in, sink its claws into my shoulders, andsmile, knowing I was as monstrous and revolting as it was. Forcing Eden to dream was an unforgivable mistake. One I’d never escape.
“When will the Light Bringer come?” Elliot asked, stuffing his face with a heaping spoonful of stew. “This is very good, Mother. Thank you.”
“Shouldn’t be long. And you’re very welcome, Elliot,” Mother said, adding a pinch of salt and a handful of dried plums to the remaining mixture. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her long hair, so dark it almost looked black, was scraped back into a bun. My hair was almost identical to hers, except I preferred to wear mine loose and unbound. “Why aren’t you eating, Esmer? Have some bread.”
I took her offering wordlessly, but I didn’t have the stomach to eat it.
“We have a surprise for you both,” Mother continued, lowering herself into the chair next to mine.
Elliot and I shared an uneasy glance. Our lives were about survival, not frivolity. Surprises simply did not happen.
“We’re leaving for the capital tomorrow,” Father announced, “to start a new life in Istralla.”
Elliot gasped. The bread dropped from my hands, falling to the floor.
“What?” The question spilled from my lips before I could stop it.
“I know it seems sudden,” Mother said, exhaling heavily. She brushed a strand of hair from my eyes with cold, thin fingers. “Your Father and I can’t stand to be among this madness any longer. We must claim a different future for ourselves. One where you and Elliot can have the lives you deserve.”
“We’ve never been able to leave,” I said carefully, ignoring the sudden thrill that slid through my veins.
The Light Legion came only to restock our elixir supply and purify—or hunt, if they escaped—our Corrupt, but as elixir distributors, our family was the last line of defense against Corruption. We couldn’t just leave. To leave Norhavellis meant abandoning it.
Even though I deeply,desperatelywanted to do just that.
I was sick of the constant despair. It clung to every interaction, scraping at the edges like a starved wolf. But as the kingdom-anointed Absolvers, we had a duty to uphold; an entire village relied on us to fairly distribute their lifesaving elixir each season.
“We can afford it now,” Mother said, smiling. “We’ll have a cottage by the sea and whatever else you desire. Your very own rooms, perhaps.”
“Who will manage the elixir in our absence?”
Mother shook her head. Shadows from the candlelight danced across her face, carving out its most hollow parts. “There’s no need to worry about that. I’m sure the Light Legion will manage to find a new set of willing Absolvers.”
Wind threaded through the walls again, breathing out in a long, meandering sigh. A rattle sounded from the front of the house as it passed, almost as if someone were tapping lightly at the door.
“Now, finish your dinner and start packing,” Mother said brightly, spooning another serving into my bowl. “This will be the last meal we share in this house. Tomorrow, our new life begins.”
Father snapped another rabbit bone in half, smiling broadly at what remained of his family, and the wind quieted, silent and still as if a heavy shroud had settled over our roof and fallen like a veil down each wall.
Shadows touched my skin, fine as silk.
They slipped behind my eyelids, wrapped their soft hands around my neck, and slid like a lover’s fingers through the length of my dark hair. Tonight they felt relentless. Needy.Hungry.I breathed in, guiltily relishing the familiar pull, and breathed out, letting my breath tumble through the air in a silent scream. It didn’t matter that I took the elixir—they came regardless. The short visions. The glimpses of dreams.
A beautiful man silhouetted against a raging, endless sea.
