Jonah’s shoulders shook next to me as he silently chuckled. “Gus Hobb is a cheapskate. Always finds a way to get the town to pay. You know, since the market isessential.” He chuckled again while the rest of the town lost interest in the argument, rolling their eyes and looking around the room at each other.
“Sit down, Gus,” Mr. Pruitt drew out, annoyed. “Need I remind you that you’re behind on the town’s dues by two moons? You will pay for back dues and the broken window. Until you can get caught up, the market will be closed. The truck coming in next week will be set up in the East wing. The town will cover the food cost, and the money received will go back into the town. My best advice for you,Gus, is to get your business together, or this arrangement will become permanent.”
Gus’ face turned as red as a ripened apple. “You can’t do that!”
Pruitt ignored him. “All in favor, say‘Aye.’”
The town collectively said “Aye” with smiles and a few laughs.
“Next order of business,” Pruitt moved on, and Gus walked with a limp out of the Town Hall, mumbling empty threats in his wake.
“A Heathen was at the coastline!” a woman shouted from behind me. “One of them is always hangin’ around the cliffs in the early mornin’.”
Julian. I turned to see behind me, and one of Gramps’ neighbors was standing with a finger pointed at the Heathens posted at the back of the room against the wall. Not one Heathen showed a lick of emotion or faltered in their poise. Julian remained aloof.
Augustine Pruitt stepped aside and allowed Mr. Goody, the tall man in the painted mime mask, to take the stand.
“Which one?” he asked, his tone like a bass guitar.
“I don’t know which one, for cryin’ out loud. They all look the same!”
“If you don’t know which one, are you certain, without a shadow of a doubt, it was a Heathen at all? It could very well be Augustine’s son, Kane”—Mr. Pruitt took a step forward, and Mr. Goody shot up his hand— “or Dolores Claiborne or Jasper Abbott or the mysterious Freddy in the Mournin’?” The people collectively laughed as if the names he’d listed off were ludicrous. “Irene, you know that unless you can identify your trespasser, there is nothing I can do.”
“How am I supposed to identify ‘im?” the woman, Irene, shot back. “Norse Woods was on our coast!ThatI’m certain of!” The crowd looked around, the calm before the storm. “Probably coming to hex our land on the eastside or take women fromourcoven. Like that Norse witch, Freya, took our Tobias.OUR HIGH PRIEST!”she spewed through clenched teeth, and the crowd began reacting, nodding, agreeing. My stomach fell, my gaze darted in a frenzy. “They’re coming! They’re desperate, and we should all be worried! They’ll only take and take andtakelike the hungry wolves of the Calla!”The woman dragged her rage-filled eyes around the room, warning her people. “Mark my words, chaos will erupt, order will crumble, and the shield will fall. We willallbe doomed!”
The woman’s voice carried throughout the room and fueled the townspeople. More than half the room fed her fire, voicing their worries and theories like gasoline and torches. The rest who were from the Norse Woods sat still and motionless, unaffected by their taunts and threats.
“Sit down, Irene!” Mr. Goody shouted, repeatedly banging the gavel over the podium as turmoil arose amongst the crowd. “Order!” he screamed this time, his blond hair shaking over his shoulders. No one listened.
Half the room was standing and pointing fingers in all directions, toward the Hollow Heathens, toward the people on the left side of the room. But the people of Norse Woods remained stoic, blank features pinned to their faces. The mention of my mother and father suffocated my mind, unable to think, unable to concentrate. All I could do was bounce my eyes around at the fear in the eyes of half the people, the hollow in the eyes of the rest.
“It was me!” Julian’s voice boomed within the room as he took a step forward. The room quieted, and arms dropped to the people’s sides, surprised. The rest of the Heathens’ gazes glued ahead without a tell as Julian fixed his attention on Irene. “Rest assured, we do not want your women,” he said flatly, bouncing his eyes to me, then snapping them back to Irene. “We stay true to our own. As far as the ocean, it called out for me, and I listened.”
“Lies, you monster,” Irene spat.
Kane jumped up from the front of the room, dressed as if he were at a church service, and faced the crowd. “Julian Blackwell went after Fallon Morgan,” he added. “And used his shadow-blood against me when I intervened.”
The room roared with whispers, and all eyes fell on me. The heat of their stare turned my icy blood to lava as my heart pounded in my ears. I looked to Julian, not understanding the big deal, and Julian’s posture remained unchanged and collected. Augustine Pruitt, who I’d learned was Kane’s father, stepped up beside Mr. Goody with knitted brows.
“Is this true?” he asked, eyes sailing between Julian and me.
“I … I …” my words were lost in the scuffle of banter as everyone looked in my direction.
“Say what you will, but the accusation is weak at best,” Julian scoffed with a tilt of his head, venom in his tone. “The girl is a flatlander, is she not?” Kane growled from the front, and Julian continued, “Not to mention the absurdity in desiring a Morgan. If you must know, Norse Woods embodies morals, and I—a monster—a certain taste. The girl is hardly worth Norse Woods’ time or attention. And, yes, I’m guilty of chivalry. Couldn’t bear to see the helpless girl hit the ground since Kane’s ego weighs him down.”
And a knife sharpened by his words twisted me open in places unknown, unfelt. It was a different hurt than the rest.Why did it hurt like this?
Kane took a hasty step forward. “You—”
“Mr. Goody,” Julian interrupted, cutting off Kane. “There is no need to cause panic over a misunderstanding. Let’s get back to more important matters, like the food rations the residents will have to savor this week until the truck arrives.”
“I agree,” Mr. Goody stated, then his gavel slammed down over the podium, the topic closed for discussion. Pruitt shook his head, visibly disturbed on how the matter was handled, but after a few moments, he straightened his shoulders and swallowed his thoughts back down. “This meeting is adjourned.”
People stood unsatisfied with the meeting’s outcome, and I stayed seated as they swarmed around me, heading for the exit. I’d learned two things during the meeting. One: I couldn’t bear to be around Julian after the dream I had, the moment we had shared. In my mind, he was vulnerable to me, yet still the very dark soul who controlled the dark forest and the dark things that haunted it. But the Julian who’d appeared today was someone else entirely, aloof and impenetrable.
Two: hearing how Dad was Sacred Sea’s High Priest. The older generation cared for him deeply, respected him, looked up to him once upon a time. A time before I’d come into this world. And my mother … What was so terrible about falling in love with my father? Why did they hate her?
Dad had rarely talked about my mother. He had barely been home enough to even speak to me.
