Page 2 of Queen of the Wildwood
The flow of the ritual imbued me. The sisters chanted softly under their breaths, expressing gratitude for the past season, the abundance of the harvest, and the balance nature brought to our lives.
Moving in a circular path, we each drew seven runes on the floor. I was on my second one when the shape warped under my hand, turning into a symbol of a slithering snake with a forked tongue.
The mark of the Dark Queen.
The sign of evil froze me as the rune seemed to come to life. The forked tongue flickered in and out, and a low hum of whispers penetrated my thoughts.
Before I could wipe away the evil rune, a crackle of pain riffed across my cheek. My head snapped back, and I dropped the bowl. Eyes wide, I stared as the bowl fell, my heart thudding so hard I thought I’d vomit.
The clay bowl smacked onto the stone floor with a sickening thud and shattered. Jagged shards, white salt, and green sage mingled together in a horrific display of desecration with the evil rune at its center.
With a twist of my fingers, I could undo what had been done, but before I could, a hand snatched at my elbow.
“Stupid girl,” hissed the Head Mistress. “Will you never learn? I should have listened when they brought you to me. You’re wrong.Allwrong for this. Your blood will never sing with magic. You bring nothing but calamity on this house.”
My nostrils flared, and a tightness came to my eyes. I did not mean to, but I yanked my arm out of the Head Mistresses’ grasp in an overt display of disrespect in front of my elders.
“It was a mistake,” I said through gritted teeth. But my voice was quite contrary, and my rigid stance would not halt the impending punishment.
“I have given you chance after chance.” The Mistress swept her hand over the salt, extending the magic that put everything into place, just as if it never was.
And then she turned. Her tall, bony figure loomed over me, and her stern face twisted.
I cringed inside. Malice glimmered darkly in the Mistress’s deep-set eyes, and she squared her shoulders. I knew what would come next.
“Sisters of the Light.” Her hard voice cut through the tension in the temple. “Today’s rune practice is dismissed due to the ineptitude of Mistress Yula.” She turned her severe stare directly at me. “Ten lashes for daydreaming, desecrating a holy place with wicked symbols, and violating your vows by leaving the temple. Pain will remind you not to shirk your duties.”
Dread froze my nerves. Ten lashes. With the heavy cane. A whip used to punish boys and yet somehow the Mistress found it useful to challenge the girls who learned the rituals of blessing from her. She taught the magic and extracted pain in exchange. Despite her, I lifted my chin and steeled myself against her power that hurled me against the altar until I was immobilized, bent in place, waiting for the torture to begin.
As the custom, my robe was removed, leaving only my thin shift. Shame. Another punishment. Shame and pain so I would never forget, never make another mistake.
My hands clenched into fists, and I gritted my teeth. I would not cry out. I would not let them see how much this hurt me, both physically and mentally.
The first blow cracked against my thighs and sent a burning wave of heat up my back. The second came just as quickly, setting a blaze on my skin. I worried my lip between my teeth to keep a yelp from escaping as another blow fell. Waves of fire consumed me, and the beating went on as the Head Mistress tried to elicit a sound. It felt as though she used her magic to make the whipping more intense than it should have been.
When at last she finished, I slumped to the ground. Pain laced down my back, bottom, and thighs. Sweat soaked the armpits of my shift and trickled down my forehead. The Head Mistress walked away, putting the cane down on the dais. Then she strode back toward me.
My head rang, but I heard sharp, unkind words pour from her lips, although I could not make sense of them in my confusion. Deep-seated anger rose, and a torrent of fury boiled in my belly. Instead of holding back, I curled my fingers, opened my mouth, and let loose the flood.
Screams were the last thing I heard as my rage exploded, and then I was lost in a violent wind storm.
Chapter 2
Iwoke to the waning light of the afternoon sun, alone in the village glade, far outside the temple. Eerie silence lay all around. The enchanted forest loomed on one side, while the path back to the village rose on the other. Only…
Cold dread filled my heart. In the distance, where the temple usually rose above the town, was—nothing. Nothing but plumes of smoke.
Goddesses. What had I done?
Trembling, I struggled to stand, stifling a cry as pain shot down the left side of my body like a lightning bolt. Numbness stung my feet, and I staggered, flailing for purchase before collapsing in the grass.
I crouched, noticing for the first time I was covered in grime and as naked as the day I was born. My black hair hung in waves around my dark skin, offering some semblance of modesty.
Wind filled my ringing ears as storm clouds gathered overhead, but I still caught the snap of twigs cracking and the rustle of woodland animals in the wood.
A hooded figure stepped out of the forest into the meadow and moved swiftly toward me. The sunlight did not penetrate his dark shroud, and the frightful tales I’d heard of what dwelled in the forest danced on the edges of reason.
A frightened shriek tore from my lips. Bending to hide my nakedness, I scuttled backward.
