Page 35 of Mischief Maker
Terano sighs, and it’s ripe with pity.
“That’s not possible, Kireth. You don’t leave this place. None of us do.”
But I have to. He doesn’t understand.
“Of course I can leave,” I say tartly. I kick the cup aside and head for the doors. I pull on the handles... and they don’t open.
A hush has fallen on the room as everyone watches me try the doors again. I yank and pull, harder and harder, until I’m grunting and gasping with effort.
My father’s hand lands on mine.
“It’s impossible,” he says, his voice sad. “This is the end, Kireth. I’m sorry.”
Chapter Fourteen
Faela
When I wake up again, my body feels light—impossibly so, as if there’s no weight attached to me at all.
The sky overhead is blue, a pure, bright, robin’s-egg blue, untouched by even a wisp of cloud. There’s a fresh smell in the air, as if it has only just rained, but that’s impossible.
I sit up, which takes no effort at all despite the pain I was in only moments ago. Tall golden grass surrounds me, but it’s perfectly soft, like a cloud. I get to my feet and find that my dress, while still looking like my dress, is clean and shining as if it were brand new. My hands are clean, too, with not a speck of dirt under the nails.
Is this what it’s like to be dead?
I turn around in a circle, searching for any sign of Lucia. But I don’t see the goddess anywhere.
Lifting my skirt so it doesn’t tangle in the grass, I start walking. There must be something out here, some direction I’m supposed to go in order to find Kireth. Not that there are any signposts.
Picking a direction, I walk and walk, not even feeling the grass against my legs. It’s as if my body isn’t actually here—there’s no warm sun on my face even though it’s bright daylight out. There’s no gentle brush of breeze on my shoulders. It all just feels like... nothing.
The longer I walk, the less certain I become that I’m not simply dreaming. Perhaps Lucia sent me to the wrong place. The infinite landscape stretches on in every direction without a tree or mountain to be seen. I consider turning around to walk the other way, but now I’m not sure which direction I came from.
So instead, I keep walking, hoping that I’m not trapped here forever in this nothing land.
Perhaps it’s only been a few minutes, or perhaps a few hours—I can’t be sure, because the sun doesn’t move—but soon the land starts changing. Some trees appear, and the grass turns greener. It almost feels... familiar. I can make out the shadow of mountains off in the distance, so I pick up my pace and keep going. Perhaps I need to get there, to that range up ahead.
As I move faster, a house appears, and then an orchard. Now I definitely recognize it. This is my neighbor’s orchard, down the long road that leads into town. I sprint past the trees toward the house, looking for the older couple who live there.
But there’s no one around. The house is empty.
Perplexed, I find the road and continue toward my farm. How did I end up back here, in my village? Aren’t I dead? If so, what a peculiar afterlife.
There are cows and sheep in the pasture, and they look strong and healthy. But I don’t recognize them—none of the patterns on the cows are right. Somehow there are cows here, but they aren’t my cows.
The same is true for the crops. Green sprouts everywhere, but the stalks aren’t planted in the same order as they are on my own farm. The house, too, looks different—clean and straight, as if it was just built. There are no collapsing stairs or shutters falling off the windows. It’s as if it’s been reborn, just like my dress.
As I approach, the front door opens. I haven’t seen anyone around since arriving in the village, so it takes me by surprise when a woman steps out of the house.
My breath stops in my throat.
“Mother?”
It can’t really be her. But there she is, standing in the doorway, waving both arms at me with a big smile on her face.
“Faela!” She comes down the stairs and embraces me in the middle of the pathway. “Oh, darling! I’m so glad you’re back safely.”
“Back?” I ask. “Back from where?”
