“Well,Ihave, Hadrian,” Avalon retorted. “I’ve seen Sable’s life for years, always wondering who she was, and last night I finally found out.”
He gave her a withering look. “Yes, you found out while I was drowning, and you slept like the dead.”
“Because I wasn’t just sleeping, stupid! I went somewhere else. I wasseeingwhat happened to her when she was nine.”
He sighed again. “And what happened to her, Avalon? What happened to Sable when she was nine?” His tone suggested he thought she was crazy. She would prove him wrong.
“Have you ever heard about Hannelore?” Her words were nearly washed away by the pounding of the rain.
When the captain stayed quiet for several long seconds, Avalon felt the wave of a minor victory sweep through her. Until she’d had that dream, she had never heard of a girl named Hannelore. But Hadrian evidently had.
He ran a hand through his hair, clearly unsettled by her question, before crossing his arms over his chest. “Hannelore was a human girl who lived in the mortal lands on the other side of the Haunted Woods. She was murdered nearly two decades ago.”
“By a pack of skin-changing wolves,” Avalon concluded. “Ripped to shreds and found by Sable when the wolves were devouring her. Am I right?”
Hadrian’s jaw clenched. “You could’ve heard that from anyone.”
“But I didn’t,” she snapped. “Isawit happen. Sable ventured into Wistwood, and while she was there, she met a boy—”
“That’s enough, Avalon!” Hadrian’s voice was nearly a shout. “I’ve heard enough about Sable to last me the rest of my painfully long life.”
She sat back, her shoulders drooping. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
“How could I believe you?” he demanded. “Do you realize how crazy you sound?”
Her eyes narrowed, and her throat thickened with pending tears. “Even when your world is crawling with magic, you doubt me. Even after everything we did together when we were kids.” Tears welled in her eyes, but before they could slide down her cheeks, she heaved herself to her feet and pulled the hood of her damp cloak up, concealing her features in shadow.
The captain opened his mouth to speak, but she didn’t let him make a sound. “Some friend you are,” she choked out. And then she slipped out into the rain without another word, nothing more than a shell of herself.
~
As Avalon sloshed through ankle-deep mud, kicking up layers of soggy leaves, she remembered back to when her friendship with Hadrian had taken a turn for the worse.
When he was promoted to Captain of the Guard, the amount of time they spent together had dwindled frighteningly quickly. Avalon was fourteen at the time, Hadrian sixteen. Four years had passed since her father had promoted him, but it felt like a lifetime. She didn’t just lose her best friend that day; she lost the man she’d believed would become something more.
She had lost her soul mate. It didn’t matter that he was immortal. It didn’t matter that she was human and weak and useless—and all wrong for him. She would always love him, until her mortal heart stopped beating.
When she reached an icy brook lined on either side with thorn bushes, she stopped to catch her breath, her hands trembling at her sides. Somewhere along the way, she had started crying; tears blurred her vision. The rain had died down to a mist, but the air still held a bite that sank deep in her bones.
There was no sign that she was being followed. No twigs snapped underfoot; no shrubs rustled. But she knew he was there, watching her. Making sure she was safe, as he always did, no matter how bad they argued. And they argued plenty, like an old married couple, the mortals called it. It hurt Avalon’s heart to admit she could never be right for Hadrian. Another girl, one of the Fairfolk of course, would eventually meet him. They would fall hopelessly in love, and then he would forget Avalon had ever existed.
Avalon sniffled and used the sleeve of her jacket to dry the new tears that sprang to her eyes. “I know you’re there,” she mumbled.
Hadrian stepped out from behind an oak. Slowly, he made his way over to her. For a moment, they stood side-by-side in silence, watching the brook glisten in the sunlight.
When Hadrian spoke, his voice was very quiet. “I’m sorry,” he sighed. “It’s not that I don’t believe you—Ido. I believe everything you tell me. But you must understand why I’m saying no. It’s not safe, Avalon. We know nothing about the girl in that mask… Whether she’s Sable or not, perhaps it’s better that she’s in there.”
Avalon bristled. “How can it be better? She’strapped, Hadrian. She’s trapped inside that mask. When she talks—when Ifeelher presence—I can sense how frightened she is. Howhelpless. And when I dream of her…” She paused to take a deep breath. “No one should be locked away—that’s all I know for sure. No one should be trapped like that.”
Hadrian toed the decaying leaves along the bank. “It’s not your responsibility to help her—”
“Then whose is it?” she interrupted. “If I don’t help her, who will?”
“Doesn’t it frighten you in the least that she is able to control you? She moves your body as though you’re nothing but a puppet. Last night, when we were nearly killed…I’ve never seen you move like that, Avalon.Ever.” His eyes bore into hers, his anger causing the muscles in his shoulders to tense. “And I’m not ashamed to say that it scared me to see you like that.A lot.”
Avalon felt her nostrils flare, though she knew he spoke the truth. Being controlled by Sabledidscare her. But she couldn’t let this go. “If it weren’t for Sable, we’d both be dead.” With a deep breath, she voiced what had been gnawing away at her soul every hour since it had happened. “Before I put on the mask, I was nearly raped by one of my father’s men.”
Hadrian started. She hadn’t told him this part—how the mask had melded with her face, saving both her life and her innocence.
