A splash behind me made me turn. Gaspard had waded into the river, his face contorted with fury, his hunting knife clutched in his hand. He was coming for me, determined to finish what the water had failed to do.
“Thou will not escape me, witch!” he roared, pushing through the water with powerful strokes.
I dove beneath the surface, swimming with the current now to put distance between us. When I came up for air again, I had reached the opposite bank. The darkened wilderness side, where no villager willingly ventured.
My hands found purchase in the slick mud of the riverbank. I clawed my way up, fingers digging into the earth, grasping at weeds and exposed roots to pull myself from the water. My sodden dress weighed me down, but fear and desperation gave me strength.
I collapsed on the far shore, gasping for breath, my body trembling with cold and exertion. When I looked up, I saw the entire village gathered on the opposite bank, their faces visible in the dying light of day. Some held torches now, the flames reflecting off the water’s surface like accusing fingers pointed in my direction.
Between us flowed the river, a boundary I had never expected to cross. Behind me waited the Forbidden Forest, home to the beast that had dragged away my father.
A harsh caw drew my attention upward. The raven—the same one that had visited my window in Gaspard’s house—circled above me, its dark wings cutting through the twilight sky. It dived lower, cawing again as if demanding my attention, then flew toward the treeline.
I struggled to my feet, knowing Gaspard would reach this bank soon. Already he was more than halfway across the river, his powerful form cutting through the water with the determination of a predator who has caught the scent of prey.
The raven cawed once more, insistent, impatient. As if it was trying to tell me something. To show me the way.
With one last look at the village that had been my home for eighteen years, I turned and followed the raven into the dark embrace of the Forbidden Forest. Behind me, Gaspard’s furious shouts echoed across the water, but I didn’t look back.
I was a witch now, or so they believed. And if that was my new identity, I would embrace it. Better a witch in the forest than a corpse in the river, or a wife in Gaspard’s bed.
Better in every way than returning to the village that had betrayed me, just as it had betrayed my father.
The raven called again from deeper in the trees, and I followed, letting the darkness swallow me whole.
nine
Isabeau
Iran until my lungs burned and my legs threatened to buckle beneath me, each ragged breath punctuated by the raven’s insistent caws ahead. The Forbidden Forest swallowed me whole. Its twisted branches reaching like gnarled fingers, scraping against my tear-streaked face and snagging my sodden dress.
Behind me, across the river that marked the boundary between safety and certain death, Gaspard’s enraged shoutsgrew fainter. The village that had once been my home now stood as my execution, and the forest that had claimed my father had become my only refuge.
“Witch!”Gaspard’s voice carried over the water one final time, the word chasing me like a physical entity.“I will find thee!”
I didn’t look back, couldn’t afford to. My bare feet pounded against the forest floor, each step sending fresh shards of pain shooting up my legs. Rocks and fallen branches sliced into my naked soles, leaving a trail of blood in my wake. Still, I pushed forward, driven by a terror that eclipsed physical suffering.
Night had begun its descent in earnest now, the already dim forest growing darker with each passing moment. The temperature dropped accordingly, my wet dress clinging to my skin like a death shroud, stealing what little warmth remained in my body. My teeth chattered violently, my muscles spasming as cold settled deep in my bones.
The raven circled back, landing on a low-hanging branch directly in my path. Its black eyes gleamed with an intelligence that seemed impossible, its head cocking to one side as if assessing my sorry state. I stumbled to a halt, bracing myself against a tree trunk to remain upright.
“Why should I trust you?” I gasped between chattering teeth. “You bit me.”
The memory of its sharp beak piercing the tender skin of my neck in Gaspard’s house flashed through my mind. Had that only been this morning? It felt like a lifetime ago. Before I’d discovered this... power inside me. Before I’d been labeled a witch and nearly drowned by people I’d known my entire life.
The raven cawed impatiently, hopping from one foot to the other.
“Easy for you to say,” I muttered, wrapping my arms around myself in a futile attempt to generate warmth. “You have feathers.”
My fingertips had gone numb, my lips likely blue from cold. If I didn’t find shelter soon, the forest wouldn’t need to kill me because the elements would do the job efficiently enough. Hypothermia was already setting in, my thoughts growing sluggish even as my heart raced in my chest.
The raven took flight again, circling above my head before darting deeper into the trees. I hesitated. Following an animal—especially one that had already proven itself willing to hurt me—seemed the height of madness.
But what choice did I have? Return to the village? They would burn me before I could speak a word in my defense. Stay here? I would freeze to death before morning.
“If you lead me into a trap,” I called after the raven, pushing myself away from the tree with trembling arms, “I hope someone plucks you bald.”
I took one step, then another, each more difficult than the last. My body was reaching its limits, pushed beyond endurance by the trauma of the day. Gaspard’s assault, the revelation of my father’s murder, my near-drowning, the inexplicable power that had saved me…it was too much for any person to bear.
