Page 5 of The Secret Keeper's Daughter

Grief overwhelms me as I slip through the doorway for a final time. I’ll never see my mother, siblings, or this house again. After one last glance, I hurry away. Heaving a sigh that sends a puff of white vapor into the air, I turn my back on the only home I’ve ever known then start down the snow-covered dirt road to the end of the property. Hopefully the fat flakes continue to fall and cover my tracks.

I’ll have to figure a way out of the village unseen. The army guards the entrances around the clock. It’s mostly to keep out the fae, but they also refuse to let people like me leave. Women and children can’t exit without permission from their fathers or husbands. I have neither, so one would think that wouldn’t be a problem, but I’m still considered Gunnar’s. If others know of his deal, people will also see me as Vog’s.

My future depends on me escaping as soon as possible. I’ve heard of places where women can live free and make their own decisions without deferring to a man. If that’s true, I’m going to find one—even if it’s across the globe. I’m an adult but people still treat me as a child. I only stuck around because of my mother and siblings—and I’d stay if my stepfather allowed. I’ve put up with Gunnar’s mistreatment this long, I could continue alittle longer. But he doesn’t want me. Worse, he wants money for me and is insisting on marrying me off. Not only do I have no desire to get married, but I refuse to wed Vog.

That’s all irrelevant. I’m on a new adventure now.

It’s dusk, which helps camouflage me as I hurry from my home. Even so, I dart near trees, posts, and anything else that will keep me from being completely out in the open.

A wind picks up, brushing more snowflakes against my exposed skin. Even with my warm coat and hat, I shiver. Soon enough, walking with these packs will have me in a sweat.

A furtive glance around tells me I’m still alone. My stepfather isn’t after me yet. He hasn’t noticed I’ve slipped away and he’s losing whatever riches Vog promised him for my hand… and more. I shudder at the thought.

All of this snow is enough to make me wonder what it would be like at the human establishments in the sunny deserts with no need for thick warm coats just to step outside. They probably have the opposite problems and dream about living somewhere cold.

It’s in the fae establishments where things are most comfortable. If I can hide my human half, I might be able to make a home for myself in one of those places. But before I do that, I have to figure out my fae powers. Somehow I need to solve this mystery with nothing to go on. I don’t know my real father’s name or even which type of fae he is. And if he wants nothing to do with me, I’ll never find him. His powers must vastly outshine whatever mine might be—he’s had decades or even centuries to hone his skills, depending on what type he is and how old he is.

He might be willing to talk to me. Iamhis daughter. The fact that he had a relationship with my mother shows he isn’t fully against humans, unless of course he didn’t realize what she was. He clearly didn’t accept her being pregnant with me, or they’dhave married. I wouldn’t have grown up with a stepfather who despises my very existence.

Everything is a gamble, but I have no other choice than my natural father. He’s the only one who can provide the answers I need. Even if he gives me the boot after filling in some blanks, at least that would be better than where I’m at now.

Alone and cold with the only life I know literally behind me.

It takes nearly half an hour to reach the edge of the farmland. I keep focused on the dirt road ahead, ignoring the fields and large livestock. I’ve spent my life caring for them—before Gunnar relegated me to manure patrol when Mother became too ill to know what was going on outside her bedroom—and breaks my heart to think about never seeing the animals again. I can’t handle more loss.

So I concentrate on the road ahead and the dancing snowflakes. With each step I take, I get warmer. More comfortable. My confidence grows in my ability to make this adventure work. Never mind not knowing how I’m going to get through the settlement’s walls or what lies behind them. Those are problems for later.

Once I reach the edge of the property, I pause. Give myself a moment to rest and catch my breath since nobody else is in sight. The main gravel road past the farmland gives me three options. I’d rather avoid the middle one that leads directly into the bustling main part of town.

The other two routes will eventually take me to the sides of the territory where I can potentially find a way out. It won’t be easy—the walls are designed to keep people on their proper side. But the army can’t be everywhere, and everything has weaknesses. I just have to find one of the wall’s secret entrances.

Someone grabs my arm, and a deep male voice booms behind me. “What do you think you’re doing?”

My heart leaps into my throat, my knees wobble. Why didn’t I grab a weapon before leaving?

I whip around, prepared to either fight or run.

And hopefully survive.

Chapter

Three

My legs turnto rubber as I take in the face staring down at me. It takes me a moment to find my voice, and it comes out sounding childlike. “Harek?”

My best friend releases my arm, adjusts the same fur hat he’s had since he was fifteen, then glances down the road to the farm. “Aren’t you supposed to be scooping scat? Gunnar’s going to beat you again if you don’t get back to work, and when that happens, I can’t promise I’ll keep my fists to myself this time.”

“I’m running away because he’s sold me to the highest bidder. Vog is on his way to the farm for me now.”

Harek’s brows draw together. His face reddens, the color so deep it’s visible even in the moonlight. “Does your mother know? No way she’d allow that! She’d find the energy to climb out of that bed and pulverize him. And if she doesn’t, I will. She won’t mind—I’m sure of it. No way she agreed to that. He’s slimy and dastardly, and you shouldn’t have to be in the same room as him, much less marry him. Give me two minutes with him and he’ll breathe from the wrong orifice for the rest of his life!”

The tears I’ve been trying to hold back blur him into the shape of a cloud, and my mouth trembles. I struggle to say something coherent but can’t.

“What’s wrong?”

I can barely sputter out one word. “Mother…”

“No!” Harek gasps. “Say it isn’t so—she can’t be gone already!”

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