Page 154 of The Washwoman at the River’s End

What would it be like, to be touched so tenderly? For a man to linger at my side in the darkness of night, showing me such love and devotion? He gives her one last kiss, then turns away, disappearing with a pack on his back. He’s leaving, then. Saying goodbye before taking some sort of journey.

The ache only grows at the thought of such freedom.

The woman remains as the man disappears, staring into the night long after he’s gone.

Is she hoping he’ll come back, or is she waiting for someone else?

Sudden fear prickles along my neck at the thought that someone could be coming. That the Cutter could be coming. I’ve stopped moving for too long, standing here spying on them. Foolish when I’m still within the Cutter’s domain. She’ll know I’m gone by now. That her wards failed, and I’ve escaped.

Keep going.

I hear the words with every beat of my heart.

Keep going.

Keep going

Keep going.

They clang through my skull—a warning. No. That’s not strong enough—a premonition. My pulse thrums like the wings of a hummingbird, too fast, and my breaths go shallow as panic grips my lungs. I need to go. Now.

I do not think—I run, racing toward my favorite constellation. The arching lines of stars to the east I call the lark, the points reminding me of a bird taking flight, soaring into the heavens. For years, I have dreamed of doing just that.

This might be the closest I ever get.

My feet fly over grass and stone, and I look over my shoulder, the shadow of danger growing closer, breathing down my neck. I’m moving so fast, I don’t realize there’s someone in front of me until I crash into them in the darkness. We tumble to the ground with a thud, the air whooshing from my lungs as my back hits the dirt.

“I’m sorry!” I say, scrambling to my feet. “Are you alright?” I glance over my shoulder.

The woman from the cairns pulls herself up, assessing me. She must have moved since I last saw her, closer to the village now, the cairns a dragon’s length behind us. She seems to notice my fear, because her eyes dart in the direction I came from. “Are you in danger?” she asks.

The woman is beautiful, with long blonde hair and gentle eyes. Even with her brows furrowed in confusion, she gives me an encouraging smile.

I do not answer her.

“You are,” she says, stepping forward. “Come, then.” She grabs my hand, yanking me up a worn path in the earth before I can protest.

“I can’t⁠—”

“I can help you. We’ll lock the doors. Whoever’s coming will never find you,” she says, and my heart leaps. I want to believe her so badly. Want to believe that hidden away in this stranger’s home, I will be safe. Invisible.

Is it possible this is the answer I’ve prayed for? Maybe the goddess led me here on purpose—to this kind woman who just happened to be waiting directly in my path. It has to be so.

Hope soars in my chest. “Thank you,” I whisper, my voice shaking as I continue to follow her up into the village.

“Here,” she says, stopping abruptly and pulling me through the door of a dark cottage. It’s large, with several rooms and a small fire in the hearth. “My family is sleeping, but I’ll find you a cot. You can rest by the fire tonight.” She locks the door, and my heart rate slows a fraction. For a split second, I think this is it. I’m safe, at least, for now.

Maybe this woman and I will be friends. I can help tend to the house. Disappear into oblivion, just another villager in a tiny town. One among hundreds in the kingdom. I’ll need to find gloves to hide my hands. Maybe a way to dye my hair to hide the red, or keep it covered.

Possibilities of a future I never let myself imagine unfold in my mind, tears stinging the back of my eyes at my relief. My hope.

And then I hear it.

The thunder of dragon wings. A roar, and the crackle of fire.

“No,” I whisper, darting to the window. Every last sliver of hope melts into terror as Athair appears in the sky, Cailleach straddling his back. They’re circling overhead, Athair’s gaze locked directly on this house.

How do they know I’m here?