Prologue
1849
Dying was just as painful as Ivy had imagined. Her head feltthree sizes too small, with a pain that pounded through her ears. She lay onthe cot in the old shed, waiting for her time when she could see her mamaagain. She’d lived nearly twenty-two summers, which was quite a long time for awoman not to get married, but the farm was too far from any village for her tohave made any friends. Her father had little use for her other than to upkeepthe house and tend the few remaining animals.
She had a gift with them. Even her father could see that,and once he’d even allowed her to visit two farms a distance away that werehaving problems with their livestock. She’d somehow sensed their illnesses aswell as which herbs to include in their feed. The farmers had been so grateful they’dsent her home with enough material to make two dresses.
It was too bad she couldn’t save the crops, as well.
The famine was killing all of the small farms.
Somehow, it was her fault he hadn’t been granted sons beforeher mother passed on. There was only Ivy, and when she’d caught the fever, hehad brought her to a place housing the sick and left her. At least he’dbothered to cart her into the makeshift hospital where so many were dying. Infact, many of them were put out in wooden sheds, awaiting their turn to gobeyond.
She tried to stretch her legs beneath the heavy blanket andwinced as the wool rubbed the horrendous rash on her legs. The healer hadcalled the illness typhus, and she supposed something about to kill her shouldhave such a terrifying name.
The hole-riddled door opened, but she didn’t bother openingher eyes. She felt the life draining from her, and she was ready. It was time.
A heavy hand descended on her shoulder, and she blinked,looking up, her vision blurry. As such, she could only make out the shapes oftwo men. She blinked again, trying to focus. “Father?” No, he wouldn’t havecome to visit her. He had dropped her off and moved on.
“Ivy,” he said.
She tried to swallow. Thatwasher father. Had hecome to witness her death, or did he have a message for her mother? She wouldbe more than happy to take it with her into the beyond.
“You’re going to be saved, girl,” he said, his voicescratchy.
She must be dreaming. This was one of those visions she keptfalling into. Now, she understood. The other form came closer, dropping nearher.
“Ivy?”
She tried to make out his features but only saw dark hairand piercing blue eyes. Was he an angel? Perhaps he was ready to take her.
“Yes,” she whispered, her voice cracking, and her throat sodry it hurt to even push out that much sound.
“I’m Athan. I’m here to help you.” His voice was different,the low tenor difficult to make out. He had an accent that tilted at the endsof the words, and yet the tone was deep. She couldn’t comprehend what he wassaying. He came closer, and his breath was minty. When was the last time shehad smelled something good?
She tried to lean closer to him, but her body had given upthe fight and wouldn’t move.
“Do you want to live forever?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. Did forever mean dying and going beyond?She would love to see her mother again.
“Say you’re sure.”
She could barely keep her eyes open. “I’m sure.”
“There you go,” her father said, his voice booming. “Sheagreed. You promised you’d save the farm.”
“I did,” the mysterious Athan said. “But I don’t think she’swell enough to decide.”
Her father sucked in air like he did when about to go into atantrum. “She’s well enough. She’s yours now.”
Athan leaned closer, his mouth near her ear. “You have to besure, lass. Is this something you want?”
The question tumbled around in her head. Had her father justgiven her away in marriage as she was dying? He’d been threatening to do so foryears, but she knew he needed help on the farm and would never do so. She’dlong ago given up her dreams of having a husband and a family.
“It’s too late,” she whispered.
“No, it’s not. I can save you, but it means you’ll be withme forever. Understand?”
