I spun away, tapping his shoulder with the flat of my sword, right above his tattoo of seven interlacing shapes, a remnant of his soldiering days. “We will need to work on you protecting your right side.”
He let out a growl of pure frustration, combined with a grudging admission that I may have been right, as he charged forward once again.
I’d give him this—he did make me work for my wins, and I was sweaty and out of breath when we called it quits. I cleaned up as best I could, and with a cheeky wave, headed out to the fields.
I made my way through several fields, helping the farmerswho requested it. The golden-brown stalks tickled my legs, calming the strange restlessness that had plagued me since this morning. I always felt a sense of peace out here in the fields, in tune with the nature that would keep us fed throughout the cold winter. I breathed in the slightly nutty, earthy scent, allowing it to fill my lungs, letting it settle me here. In my village. Where my day was progressing as every day did, which meant that as it was midday, I was covered in mud and probably smelled worse than I looked, thanks to the pig that tried to make friends with me earlier.
As I passed the last wheat field before the town square, I saw Tanner straighten and remove his hat, waving it to get my attention. His brown hair was close cropped to his head, as many of the men wore it, his skin tanned and weathered from so much time in the fields. I debated ignoring him, but I decided that would be rude and gave a halfhearted wave back.
He mouthed, “I’ll see you later.”
Shit.
I had tried to do something about that but clearly it hadn’t taken. He thought I was playing hard to get. Nana had never approved of him, although she’d never said anything. She let me rise and fall by my own choices, which I loved her for, but in this case, I kind of wished she had stopped me. He had been courting me for the past quarter and I had let him. Not that I felt, well, anything for him. But it was nice to be wanted. I had been lonely, without many friends—unless you counted a surly blacksmith—and Tanner had been friendly and kind. It had been a mistake to sleep with him the first time. It had definitely been a mistake to sleep with him again. Both times I had left feeling empty. Like something was missing deep in my soul. I had tried to break things off with him, but he wasn’t accepting it. So now I was avoiding him, but it was just getting awkward.
I skirted around the edge of the crowd coming out of the fields and heading back into town for their lunches. There were more people than usual, due to families gathering to celebrate Gaelthine,the autumnal equinox. I quickly counted the days in my head and realized the High Day was in fact today, a cause for celebration in most houses. But the influx of people made me wary. The noise level that always existed in the back of my thoughts increased tenfold when I came close to a crowd. It could become deafening if I was in the midst of one. I took a deep breath, trying not to give in to the thoughts and feelings lashing out at me, and followed the dirt road toward home.
Trees lined the path back to town, separated from the road by a low stone wall. The remaining leaves were already shades of red and orange. Our summers and winters were long, our springs and autumns short.
The changing of the seasons brought little change to my life. Someday, and someday soon, I was going in search of change, I promised myself.
Approaching our cottage, I tried to brush some of the filth off my pants and kick the mud from my boots but eventually gave up as a lost cause. My back was filthy, my hair still soaking wet from my halfhearted attempt to clean it by dunking it under a water pump. Nana was going to give me the same wry look whether I had some mud or lots of mud on me. Might as well save myself the effort.
Voices whispered through the open door of the cottage and I stopped, all thought of mud disappearing.
A stranger was sitting at our worn kitchen table with Nana. I couldn’t remember the last time Nana had a visitor who wasn’t a villager I had known my entire life. And this was clearly not a social visit, not with how stiffly they both held themselves. I could just make him out through the split door, kept open to let in the crisp autumn breeze. Overgrown sandy hair with a slight curl flopped over his forehead and a few days of scruff shadowed his strong jaw, as though he was too busy to keep himself groomed. He appeared close to my age but carried himself with an authority that seemed older. His rugged appearance was at odds with his fine black clothing, which was utilitarian but far too nice for a town like this. A tailoredvest with intricate stitching laid snuggly over a black shirt, and his broken-in boots still had a slight shine despite our dusty roads. A long overcoat, also of fine black material, was slung over a chair. Two swords were strapped across his back, their scabbards pitted and scraped from frequent use.
I heard my name several times as I crept closer, along with something about an “earth channel.”
“Rose, you took her beyond the Veil,” the man accused, in deep, measured tones.
Nana didn’t back down, holding herself regally, unbending in confrontation. “And he has his sights set on the Veil. There’s nowhere in there she would have been safe. Lexa was much safer out here.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I do know that,” Nana fired back, poking a finger at his chest. “The fact that you, even assisted”—she raised her eyebrows—“had to wait for Gaelthine means that Lexa was, in fact, safe here. Besides, you don’t think I put into place all manner of precautions?”
I had to lean in to hear his next words.
“The Veil is failing. It’s time.”
All the fight went out of Nana as she collapsed inward. Her hand came to her mouth as she sank backward into her chair. Nana was the strongest person I knew. But this news, whatever it meant, made her look as if she’d aged ten years in the past moment. I didn’t actually know how old Nana was; that was another one of the questions she was exceptionally good at avoiding. But those words had broken something in her. I was torn between running in, demanding to know what was happening, and staying hidden, listening.
The man leaned forward, earnestly, continuing to speak, but his voice was too soft for me to hear.
As I inched closer, Nana’s head shot up and looked directly at me. I sighed, straightened, and approached. The stranger’s head whipped around, his posture stiffening as he rose to face me.
He was tall—the top of my head barely reached his chin—andstriking in a way that had nothing to do with any single feature. His sandy hair and bronze skin spoke of time spent outdoors. His shoulders were broad, a warrior’s physique suggesting years of training. An air of quiet authority radiated off of him.
Eyes that couldn’t decide if they were green or brown met mine.
The world tilted on its axis.
A feeling crashed through me, so intense I almost staggered back. Like being doused with a bucket of cold water when you least expected it, except somehow, this water set my essence ablaze. My heart stuttered, then galloped. Heat bloomed in my chest, spreading outward, a warmth so profound it was almost feverish.
A gold haze filtered through my mind as something was jostled loose, deep within me. Not a memory. Something deeper than a memory. Something ingrained, etched into the fabric of my soul.
His eyes never left mine as he braced his shoulders and his face went carefully blank. His jaw clenched, the only betrayal of whatever it was he was working so hard to control.
