Page 48 of The Puppeteer and the Poisoned Pawn

“I need—clothes if you can spare any.” For reasons I’m not sure of, I want to hurt her. I want to hurt someone. Anyone. My fingers twitch at the idea, curling and flexing. I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone in my life, even as they were hurting me. Something about this grief, this loss, this tragedy has opened a forbidden door in my soul, releasing my demons to wreak havoc on the world.

Prim glances down at my torn-up feet and gasps. “How long have you been walking around without boots?”

I sigh.

“Come on.” Runa nods her head to the left, swiping a loose strand of white hair behind her ear. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

I’m too weak to fight them as they do more than give me clothing to wear. Prim holds my feet over a bucket of warm soapy water, cleaning my feet of splinters, thorns, and dirt wedged into the crevices of my wounds. We’re in Runa’s private cave, where she brought Dessin and me to change. It has a wooden cot, a dresser, a table, and a cauldron that hangs over a fire.

“Eat,” Runa commands, nodding her head at a plate with slices of bread, cheeses, shreds of meat, and blackberries.

I reluctantly pick up a piece of warm bread, shoving it into my mouth mechanically. I’m aware that I will probably faint at any given moment without food in my system. And before the tree house, I wouldn’t care, but now… I have to know how to trigger my memories again.

“Were you dancing on knives?” Prim raises her eyebrows as she wraps my feet in white cloth.

I answer her with slow, unenthusiastic chewing. Runa lifts my arms to remove my black dress, replacing it with a sleeveless leather archer’s dress. I stare at the dark cave walls as she laces up the front like a corset. She pauses and glances up at me curiously.

“Actually, I’ll get a nightgown for you to sleep in,” she says, flicking her gaze back to the dresser.

I shake my head. “I’m not staying.”

“Sure you are,” Prim replies, tying the laces of my knee-high boots. “You look exhausted and malnourished. Just stay the night and get some sleep.”

“No.”

“You’re not leaving like this,” Runa grits, looking uncharacteristically concerned.

I stand from the cot, tying the rest of the laces up my archer’s dress myself.

“Actually, I am.” My voice isn’t soft or soothing the way it usually is. It’s heavy in the bed of my throat, achingly raw and angry.

“Sit your ass down. You look like the dead, Skylenna. He wouldn’t want you to run yourself into the ground.” Runa’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink like she’s just realized the gravity of that statement.

He wouldn’t want….I almost laugh. He can’t want anything anymore, can he? He isn’t alive. I just watched them bury his body.

After the last lace, I push past Runa, walking with needles stabbing my sore feet as I make my way to the cave entrance.

“Fine. Go! I’ve never seen that ungrateful face on you before, anyhow. The girl I met was at the very least polite!” Runa shouts behind me.

I stop walking. And without turning around, I let a drop of emotion darken my voice.

“You’re right, Runa. This isn’t the face of the girl you first met. This is the face of a woman who has just lost…everything.”

15. The Woman Who Raised Him

It takes me a mile or two before I realize which direction I’m headed.

To Kane’s childhood home.

If there’s ever a place that might trigger my mind to open, it has to be there. When Kane split to Dessin. Where Arthur and Sophia lost their lives. And perhaps, I can learn more about this experiment from his family’s point of view.

The dark pine trees are motionless in the cool night, quiet and peaceful. I walk through them like the dead, like I’m a spirit cursed to travel the planes of this world for all eternity. And I begin to wonder if I’ll ever be happy again. This hole in my chest feels infinite. It has no beginning or end. It lacks a perimeter, no matter how hard I try to build one.

The silver glow of the moon rains down on me with two slow steps out of the Evergreen Dark Wood and into the North Saphrine Forest, and through the cluster of trees, I know I’ve made it to his childhood cottage.

But… I can’t bring myself to go in there; perhaps for a similar reason, Kane couldn’t either. I push my way through the sharp pine needles, inching closer to the cottage.

It’s bigger than I remember. The river rock chimney, the hand-hewn mill sidings. It’s still beautiful but haunting at nightfall. And after a long, sickening moment… I decide to sleep in the shed for the night. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll have the guts to step inside.

---