Slowly, I moved to peer above the boulder. It would expose the top of my head and the straw-colored hair I’d tied back, but something in me knew it didn’t matter. No matter how big the boulder was, I couldn’t truly hide. I was far too alive in this dead land to be unnoticed.
There, by a tree twenty steps away, was a crumpled woman.
She was unmoving, eyes closed, long white hair falling over the violet cloak that swallowed her body.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen something violet. It might have been when our Princeps, Theo, and his Lady visited our village years ago to strip us of what we had—for the cost of protection, resources, and security of the Territory, of course. Like any Territory leader would do for theirdearlybeloved people. The woman’s regal dress had been violet, and I’d been so taken aback by the stunning hue amidst all the gray that I’d nearly forgotten to bow. If Merelda hadn’t jabbed me in the back, I would’ve been punished.
This woman’s cloak was just as stark and stunning against the dead earth beneath her.
I watched her for several heartbeats, waiting for a change, but she stayed motionless on the ground.
Leave. Don’t make it your problem.
The voice in my head was wise. The woman seemed harmless, but the odor in the air, thebadnessurging me to run, feeding my instinctual need to flee—this couldn’t be as it seemed.
I peeled away from the boulder, my eyes glued to the woman’s face as I began my retreat. I needed to get home for Merelda. She was too old, too frail to care for herself, and even without fresh meat, we had enough money from my last wood delivery to purchase grains. If I didn’t get home by nightfall, Merelda would be without dinner and heat unless Marsik came out of his nightly drunken stupor and helped.
But Merelda had also taken me in when she found me wandering the village paths, a new orphan who was all but five years old.
Guilt swept in, and I hesitated.
Kindness is the one spot of bright we can make in this world of brown and gray.
Merelda’s favorite words, the ones that drove me mad, played through my head in her hoarse voice.
Finding spots of bright was for those who wouldn’t make it in this world. But that violet cloak in front of mewasa spot of bright, in the most literal way possible, and if I continued my retreat, this woman would probably die. I would be responsible.
Dammit.
My feet were moving forward before my mind could further analyze the consequences. The stench didn’t worsen as I closed the distance between us, which I supposed was a good sign. At least, I hoped it was.
Now steps from her, I realized her face was…surprisingly young. She appeared to be the same age as me. Her nose was pert, lips bowed, eyebrows white like her hair and delicately arched, and skin smooth. High cheekbones were all that suggested she was older than a child. Mygaze followed her frizzy white hair to that vibrant cloak, and that was when I noticed the thick, black liquid speckled across the fabric and pooling on the ground beneath.
I lowered to a crouch and gently pushed her shoulder, nudging her to her back. My chest tightened. The black was comingfromher, oozing from jagged gashes—too many of them—in her gold tunic. Breath stalled in my lungs. The black was her blood.
Black blood.
That was wrong and unnatural and everything that stench was.
This was a mistake.
I jolted back, muscles working to launch me away from whatever she was. Delicate pale fingers snapped out and gripped my arms with unnatural strength. I closed my eyes, straining against the hold with every ounce of strength I had, but those hands were iron manacles. I should have listened to my instincts, should have run, because now Merelda wouldn’t get dinner because I was going to die, but she would be waiting and wondering where—
“Look at me, girl.” The voice that pierced the torrent of panic was not one that belonged to that young face. It was ancient, a deep power vibrating through the air and halting my efforts before I even knew I’d stopped.
When I opened my eyes, I was staring into two utterly captivating irises inches before my face. Thick rings of rich, vibrant violets and purples formed the edges, fading into deep, speckled gold toward each pupil. At some point, she’d come to sit so straight and close that our lips nearly touched.
With all of those wounds, that shouldn’t be possible.
“What…what are you?” I asked, sounding small and winded like the young child Merelda had found on the village paths. Not that I cared. Now wasn’t the time for pride. If this woman, or whatever she was, wanted me to kiss the ground, sing a song, and beg for my life, I’d eagerly do so.
Those irises shimmered with gold and then silver as they bore into my own eyes, and I couldn’t have pulled my gaze away if I wanted to. I thought I wanted to, but then I didn’t. Not when the colors were dancing so prettily. Dancing, dancing, dancing, morphing into fingers, long knuckled fingers…no, knobby tree roots, roots that kept growing—nothing but light…bright light, brighter than anything I’d ever seen in my life, everywhere and within me, warm and soft on the inside. I was floating, limbs free, floating through the bright light that felt like sunshine, home, and something else I couldn’t place. But something changed, and it began to be too bright. Too much light. Itburned. It seared me from the inside out, like pain I’d never known before, and I opened my mouth to scream.
The manacles slipped from my arms as my eyelids slammed shut, and I was no longer floating but falling over onto the cold, hard ground. My head slammed into a tree root.
Instantly, my eyes were open and I was on my feet. Unsheathing the dagger from my thigh, I took a readied stance, calling on every skill Marsik had taught me. I’d deflect her strike with a forearm, slash out with the knife, and then use my legs because they were the strongest weapon I had.
But she was gone.
