Page 6 of Shade of Ruin

“Where am I supposed to go?” I ask. “I don’t have anyone else in the world.”

Prudence shakes her head and, in a surprising show of affection, pulls Hazel closer to her. “I don’t care one lick if you starve, Wyrdling. The world would be better if you did. The only difference between you and a murderer is that the murderer chooses who he kills!” And I can see the pain in her eyes asshe looks at her daughter. The icy shield she’s held over her emotions cracks, and I realize I can’t blame my aunt for hating me. Her gaze goes to the daughter that’s already dead even though her body and mind haven’t accepted it yet.

If I do nothing, if I just let Hazel die, I truly will be the same as a murderer. I’ll be everything that people have said I was: a strange and dangerous Wyrdling. Someone to hide your children from. Someone to push from town and only see in your nightmares. No different from the Fae.

Prudence stands up when I don’t move to leave immediately, setting Hazel on her feet, and as she raises her hand to me, I stand up to meet her. She hesitates.

I don’t know if she’s right to make me leave. Maybe I’m an accidental murderer. Maybe I’m exactly what they all think, a Wyrdling that should move to the woods so I can’t hurt anyone else. Maybe I’m the worst thing that ever happened to the Arden family name. She doesn’t get to hit me, though. I’ve never meant to do any harm to anyone, and I won’t accept her punishment. Seeing Hazel in pain is far worse punishment than Prudence can deliver.

I love my cousin, and I’ll do whatever I can to keep her safe. That anger bubbles up inside me, just like it did earlier when I hurt her. I know to keep it leashed now, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s simmering like a lidded pot. One wrong move, and I could let that deadly magic out to hurt Aunt Prudence just as quickly and easily as I hurt Hazel.

“Do you really want to do that, Aunt Prudence?” My voice is wild, just like it was before. Quiet and calm and impossible to ignore. Like a growl from a wolf. Feral deadliness even Prudence has to acknowledge. She immediately falters, and when I take a step forward, she takes a step back. “I’ll leave this house, but not because you told me to.”

I decide in an instant. Aunt Prudence is right. I can’t live with my only remaining family until I understand my magic, and I can’t just accept that the only person in the world that’s been kind to me for fifteen years is going to die. I turn to Hazel. “I’m going to fix this. The Shade told me that Calyr the Gold can fix this. I don’t know how to get to Draenyth to see him, but nothing’s ever been able to stop me before.”

Hazel smiles at me, but it’s a sad smile. I look at Aunt Prudence again. “When I fix Hazel, I will come home. My father’s money bought this house. It’s as much mine as it is yours. If you don’t feel comfortable living with me, then you’re more than welcome to build your own house.”

Aunt Prudence seems to have recognized that she doesn’t hold as much power over me as she expected, so instead of responding, she just waits for me to leave. Her eyes watch me like a hawk, but I can see the pain in them. She’s never loved me, but maybe she loves Hazel more than I’ve ever given her credit for. And that’s something I can respect.

I take a deep breath and go to my room to gather my things. There’s almost nothing of any importance, but I stuff it into a traveling bag. As soon as I’m alone, I have to pause and actually accept the decision I’ve made. I’ve never been outside of Blackgrove, and now I’m planning to go all the way to Draenyth, a world away. I’m not a worldly person, but even I know that the closer you get to Draenyth, the more Fae you’ll find. And Fae are the only things that I’m terrified of. How many times did Vesta remind me that the only solution to seeing a Fae was to run? Tracking a full-grown grizzly bear was dangerous, but there was a good possibility of success. A Fae, though? That was death.

But why should I value my life at this point? I could live in the forest all alone and let my cousin die. There’d be no reason to live then. A life with no one to share it with is no life at all.

Hazel’s the only person I have left to share the world with. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep my cursed bloodline from taking her away, too. I look down at my wrist where the shadow wavers on my skin. When I rub my thumb across it, I feel the anger fading.

I don’t know why I feel any kind of connection to that mark or the Fae who left it there, but my cousin would be dead without him. And when he held my hand, I felt no malice in him. As someone who has spent her entire life in uncertain situations, I’ve grown comfortable trusting my instincts. And my instincts tell me that the Fae in the shadows is less dangerous than the stories make him out to be.

It’s surprising how little there is to carry with you when you’re leaving your life behind. An extra set of clothes, a bag of provisions, the spear that Vesta made for me, a belt knife that I never go anywhere without, along with a whetstone, and a blanket. The rest… well, it doesn’t matter what happens to the rest of it.

I look at the little room that’s been mine since I was eight years old. A small armoire. A chest of drawers. A bed. None of it is worth as much as one of the many sitting room chairs that Aunt Prudence bought on a whim.

A collection of pretty river stones I’ve collected sits on the chest of drawers. There’s a painting on canvas that Hazel made for me two years ago. A picture of me standing in a tree with my spear in hand. It’s beautiful, and it’s the only thing that anyone’s given me other than my mother’s ring. I love it, but it has no purpose on a journey like this.

As I walk past Aunt Prudence, Hazel’s eyes follow me, and when I get to the door, I hear her jump up. “Wait,” she calls, and I stop.

I turn toward her, purposefully ignoring Aunt Prudence, but it’s not because I’m angry with her. No, she’s not doing anything other than being a mother hen protecting her family. The only sad thing is that I’ve never been a part of that family.

Hazel moves to me and says, “Maeve, you be safe. I know you’re… different, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still love you like a sister. I don’t know how you’re supposed to get to Calyr, but if anyone could, it’s you. You’re incredible, and maybe… maybe it’s because you’re different.”

Before I’ve had time to say anything, she wraps her arms around me and gives me a tight hug. Then she whispers in my ear, “You be safe.”

She pulls away, looking seriously at me. “I’ll miss you,” I say and then I turn around. There’s no point in lying to her. We both know that nothing about this is safe. Calyr the Gold lies inside Draenyth, the capital. A city that no human in their right mind would enter.

Then again, I guess that I’m not human.

I give her a smile, and then I leave, letting the door swing shut behind me. The path between the townhouse and Blackgrove calls to me. The sun’s still high in the sky, a kindness I’m thankful for. There’s a strange simplicity to the world. This motion, this walking out the door in late afternoon, is so common. The scents of grasses billow up, carried on the warm summer wind. A puff of dandelion seeds floats on that unseen current of air.

Everything is so…typical. Except that everything I’ve known forever is gone. I guess the world didn’t hear that there should be crackling storm clouds and terrifying downpours to echo the mood I’m in.

It’s difficult to think about anything other than how lost I am in the world right now. The call of an owl should make me question why it’s not waiting until twilight, but it doesn’t even register.

Today has changed everything in my life. A single mistake has broken the world that I’ve been so content with. I rub my finger over the little shadowed mark on my wrist, a reminder of what I’ve done and what I owe.

I want to cry. I want to find a hole somewhere in the forest and just let out all the emotions that are bubbling inside me. Fear of having to leave Blackgrove. Sorrow for what I’ve done to Hazel. Terror at being all alone in the world for the first time in my life. More than anything, anger at myself for not realizing the obvious.

I’d hated the way people treated me so much that I refused to believe what everyone said. I’m a Wyrdling. There’s no doubt of it now. I used magic, and only someone with Fae bloodlines can do that. I am the thing that people are afraid of, and they’re afraid of me for good reason.

I pass by several blackberry bushes that have been picked clean, almost entirely from Hazel and me. The scent of dogwood blossoms fills the air. The forest doesn’t agree that my world has been shattered. These sights and scents are so familiar that they push against the pain and fear and worry, giving me a chance to make a stand against the overwhelming emotions.

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