Her back stiffened as she glared down at the mound of half-kneaded dough.Neither of them had any idea what she went through to get that elixir.Climbing the mountain in the cold.Returning with it and losing…
…what?What did she bargain away?
She couldn’t recall.
All she knew was Papa was disappointed with her and continued to favor Maris.Neither of them appreciated her.
“I’m sorry, Papa.”
Without turning, she placed aside the towel and started back to work to finish the bread.
“See that it doesn’t happen again.”
He opened the door and stepped back out into the chill of the morning.She sensed her sister lingering behind her.
“You didn’t get that elixir from the doctor, did you?”Maris asked, a note of accusation tinging her voice.
“I have work to do and so do you,” was her only answer.
“But—”
“Back to work,” she said, flashing a cold look over her shoulder.“The floors aren’t going to sweep themselves.”
Maris frowned, clearly hurt by her words which she instantly regretted.But she didn’t want to answer any more questions about the elixir or Papa’s illness.
Serena drove her fists into the pliant dough, the sticky air of yeast clinging to her skin.Was it a mistake to climb the mountain?To take the elixir?To trade away…
What?
The thought unraveled like a spool of thread, slipping through her fingers, leaving her hollow.
She straightened, jaw tight.No.It had been the right choice.Her family’s survival demanded it.Let the whispers come.Let the doctor pry.She would endure it all.
Even if she had to go back to the Well.
Chapter 6
Thatnight,moonlightfilteredthrough the grime-covered window, cutting through the gossamer curtains that did nothing to shield the room from the slashes of light.Serena lay in her bed staring at the window, listening to the faint wind around the house.In the bed next to her, Maris slept with her back to her.They hadn’t spoken again since she snapped at her.
She tried to apologize.But every time she tried, the words died on her tongue.Leaving behind ash and anguish.
And Papa.He was less than cordial through their evening meal.He kept the fire stoked and dozed by it in his favorite chair, his legs stretched out before him, a book open on his chest.She wanted to insist he go to bed, but she decided she’d done enough insisting for one day.
She rolled to her side, trying to close her eyes and sleep, replaying the events and regrets of the day.
And thinking about the stranger at the Well of Wishes.
Who was he?Did he have a name?Was his sole purpose to grant wishes and make bargains?What had he taken from her?Was it why she felt so…hollowed out?So lost?So alone?
Frustration edged through her.She shoved off the heavy quilt and slipped out of bed.Her bare feet hit the cold floor, sending a shiver up her shift.She cut a glance to her sister.She hadn’t moved.She continued to sleep.
Serena moved about the room, quick and quiet.She pulled on her woolen dress, stockings, and grabbed her cloak.She swept her boots off the floor, stealing another glance at her sister.
Good.She was sleeping.Her breathing was heavy.
She crept out of the room on silent feet, closing the door behind her with a soft snick.A quick glance around the cabin to see the fire was nothing more than embers and her father’s chair empty.He’d gone to bed.
At the door, she slipped on her boots and pulled the cloak tight around her thin frame.She picked up the lantern and opened the door.
