Page 6 of Steel Heart Iron Claws

“Keep your eyes lowered,” Charlin Darrow barks. “And your mouth shut.”

“Yes, Father.”

He delivers a slap to the back of my head as the gates fully open to reveal an elderly woman with a long coil of gray hair that falls down the back of her red robe.

I dare a slight glance up at her through my lashes.

She saw my father hit me, didn’t she? Is she going to say anything? She’s a devotee to the Goddess of Virtue, after all, and beating one’s children can’t possibly be condoned.

But she only frowns.

“Matron White.” My father shoves me forward. “Here’s the girl. You’ll get your payment the first of every month.”

Matron White pokes at my little arms. “You said she could help in the fields. She’s all skin and bones.”

“And?”

Matron White cranes her neck to look at the carriage behind us. “And throw in that horse of yours, too, or else we don’t have a deal. I need something that can pull a plow.”

My father grumbles, but after the Matron sweetens the deal with a barrel of cider from the convent’s orchard, he’s all smiles again. After a promise to send Myst back with one of the servants, he leaves without saying goodbye, more concerned with ordering the footman to load his cider in the trunk.

The gates close.

My heart hammers as I dare to gaze up at my new guardian with hopeful eyes.

She grabs me by my immortal crown. Pain digs into my scalp as she leads me, wincing and stumbling beside her, to the statue of Immortal Iyre in the center of the cloistered courtyard.

She shoves me to my knees in front of the statue. The vines growing up the statue ruffle, strangely, as there’s little breeze.

“Kiss Iyre’s toes, girl. Swear fealty to her. And maybe she’ll bless you with an ounce of usefulness because, right now, you’re nothing but a burden.”

I curl my hands into tight fists, nails cutting into my palms so that the bite of pain pulls me away from the memory.

Adrenaline floods me as Iyre twists her fingers harder in my hair, forcing my head closer to her real-life toes.

My stomach seizes as panic inches closer…

But then, something rustles in the tattered velvet fabric around my knees, and I hear a small squeak.

Mouse-talker?a gentle voice whispers in my head.I’m here. I’m with you. You aren’t alone.

The forest mouse!

My limbs go weak with relief, and I briefly close my eyes. The mouse might be small, but her soft, warm little presence gives me courage.

I inhale, then look up at Iyre. “No.”

“No?” A flicker of amusement crosses Iyre’s face. “You think you have a choice?”

Her hand twists harder in my braid. Wetting my dry lips, I scan the forest. All around, towering trees box me in. I can’t even see the sun overhead to know which direction is south, back toward Astagnon.

Let me run, the mouse says.There are beasts in these woods. They will chase me and give you a chance to escape.

I don’t dare glance down at the mouse to give away her presence.

I won’t let you risk yourself, little friend,I answer.Back into my dress. Hide. It is my duty to protect you, not the other way around.

The mouse squeaks in concern but does as I say.

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