Her hands dropped to her sides and she lifted her chin in challenge. Her eyes flashed accusingly, but she said nothing.
Atlas blew out an exasperated breath and shoved a hand through his hair. “I think we started off on the wrong foot. I’m Atlas.”
She answered with a sullen glare. The sun was setting now, bathing her hair and skin in golden, fiery hues. Now that he was paying closer attention, he could see that her white dress, though plain at first glance, was expertly tailored and boasted subtle lace details that shimmered when they caught the light. She held herself like royalty, despite the streak of dirt on her face and her lack of shoes.
She obviously comes from money and status. The nobility are the only ones who would wear a dress like thatand go wading in the lake like it’s no problem. But what is a woman like this doing alone by a lake?
He tried again. “Are you lost?”
She lifted a single eyebrow, as if judging him for the perfectly reasonable question.
“A ‘yes’ or ‘no’ would be more helpful,” he offered, the regret at his earlier treatment of her slowly evaporating. “And the customary response when someone introduces themselves is to return the favor.”
She stared, blinked twice, then turned on her heel and walked back to the pile of greenery. She lowered herself gracefully to the ground, picked up one of the long stems, and began pulling off the leaves.
He was close enough to recognize the plant, and Atlas sprang forward, plucking the stem from her grip. “That’s stinging nettle!” The back of his hand was already burning from where the leaves had rubbed against his skin. His fingers, calloused as they were, fared slightly better.
The woman huffed in annoyance and picked up another nettle.
“What are you doing? You’re going to hurt yourself.” This time, when he tried to grab the plant away, she whipped it behind her back. Her eyes dared him to try again. He stepped back and threw the nettle to the side, muttering, “You need help.”
The sun dipped below the horizon, shifting the shadows to shades of blue and purple.
“What I need,” the woman said with enough ice in her voice to put a chill in the air, “is for you to stop manhandling me and taking my nettles. Is the air so thinup there that it’s caused you to forget your manners, or do you just assume you can get away with being rude because no one else is strong enough to fight you?”
His jaw dropped, both at the sound of her voice and at the scathing words. “You can speak?”
She looked at him as if he had said he owned a harp that could sing. “Of course I can speak.”
Atlas crossed his arms defensively. “Why didn’t you before?”
“Because the sun hadn’t set.” She spoke as if her answer were the most obvious thing in the world and turned her attention to gathering all of the nettles into her arms and placing them next to a rock far from the water’s edge.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
She breezed past him to where he had dropped the nettle and scooped it up with a pointed glare before adding it to the pile. “It just does.”
He shook his head helplessly. “I’m confused.”
She rolled her eyes and planted a hand on her hip, staring him down with the ferocity of a tiny, yapping dog. “I’m breaking a curse. One of the requirements to do so is that I need to be silent while working on it.”
“And the significance of sunset is…?”
“When the sun sets, it’s too dark to work. Also there are apparently large men in the area who don’t understand how to respect personal space, so I need to block off time after sunset to tell them to go away.”
Atlas dropped his hands and exhaled heavily.This woman is testier than a cornered bobcat.“I already apologized. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
Her smile was false. “That’s a horrible apology; I don’t accept.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I don’t accept your apology.”
“Why not?” He was feeling defensive again, and despite the fact that he knew he should keep moving if he wanted a chance at finding Phoebe before it was completely dark, there was something about the woman that left him unable to leave until he had some answers.
Who is she? Why is she here? What in Eukarya does she mean by a curse?
“Why not?” she scoffed. “Because you didn’t actually take ownership of your actions. You apologizedifyou hurt me—meaning that you don’t actually think what you did was wrong, you only feel bad for the resulting pain. Which there wasn’t.” She added the last words quickly.
