And then...
My father’s illness. His decline. The quiet in the house. The realization that my survival now depended on me. I would need to do all the hunting alone. All the repair work alone. Work our garden, alone. Live or die, on my own.
I see myself, only ten years old, alone in the world, trying to survive. Trying to bury my grief, trying to keep going.
Somehow I thought things couldn’t get worse, and then my grandparents had arrived. Cruel words were constantly thrown at me, reminders that I was ugly, stupid, and useless. Hands slapped my face. Fingers pinched my skin. Leather struck my flesh. Safety was gone. Any sense of belonging in this world was stolen away.
But it’s too much. The flood of images is overwhelming. The memories are too vivid, too real. I feel as if I’m drowning in them. I gasp for air, but it’s as if I can’t breathe.
I scream again, but the sound is muffled, as if it’s caught in my throat. The memories won’t stop. They keep coming, oneafter another. My father’s death. My mother’s death. My lonely survival. My grandparents. Everything, all of it, rushing into me.
And then, just as quickly as it started, it stops.
I gasp for air, feeling the burn in my chest as I try to steady my breath. My body trembles, my hands shaking, but I don’t collapse. I can’t collapse, bound by the chain.
Varua’s hand is still on my forehead, but the pressure lessens. I blink, dazed, trying to make sense of what just happened.
She pulls her hand away.
But it’s not over.
I watch in stunned silence as Varua steps back, her expression unreadable. She places her hand at the back of her neck and begins to… to pull her spine out of her skin. She screams, a bloodcurdling sound, and more blood splatters her already bloody dress. I look away, squeezing my eyes shut until the screaming stops, and then I chance a glance at her. She stands before me, clutching a blade made of her very bones.
It glows faintly, the sword shimmering with an otherworldly light. I don’t know what she intends to do with it, but the fear in my chest grows stronger.
This is how I die. This is how she kills me.
But instead of striking, she does something strange. She places the sword on the ground between us. As the steel touches the bloody stones, the sword shrinks into a dagger made of bone. I look up, and Varua gives me an intense look.
“Human, you’ve been chosen. Do not waste my faith in you.”
Then she turns back to the fae barrier and crosses into it, disappearing into the haze. Around me, the wind stirs again. The creatures begin to make their nightly sounds, and I stand alone. Still trapped on the fae altar.
I don’t know what just happened. I don’t know why she showed up, why she put me through that flood of memories. But there’s one thing I do know for certain: I’m still alive.
For now.
4
Alette
The first lightof dawn filters through the trees, a soft, golden glow creeping into the space where I’m tethered. A little moan of pain slips through my chapped lips.Thirsty. So thirsty.
No, I wasn’t torn into pieces by a fae… at least I haven’t been yet, but being strung up like this has passed the point of being miserable and moved directly into the realm of pain. Shifting my sore body brings a sharper stinging sensation to my cramped arms and legs, and I gasp, hating this feeling. I hate feeling this helpless.
I’d give just about anything to just lie on the ground, to feel the cool earth beneath me, to escape this torment.
“I almost wish something would happen, so at least this would end,” I whisper into the quiet morning, my voice barely breaking the stillness that surrounds me.
The fae goddess had come. I hadn’t been killed. Surely… my people should come back and free me soon, right?Even as the thought enters my mind, I know that’s not my fate. Something bad is still in store for me. There’s just… a heaviness hangingin the air, a sense that something is waiting. I felt it last night, and it came again just a few minutes ago, like the world itself is holding its breath, bracing for something terrible.
But for what?
Jerking against the chains again, I shout, “Fuck!” into the silence, but it doesn’t help to erase the strange feeling enveloping me, gnawing at the edges of my sanity.
Then I feel it… an almost tangible presence, a rush of energy that floods the air like a storm brewing at sea, a sensation reminiscent of what I’d felt with the goddess, only different, more raw, less potent. It presses against me, sinking deep into my bones, like the air itself is charged with magic, electric and alive.
Uh oh.
