1
“What do I do now?” Emily said into the cold air of the small room she shared with her sister, who was sleeping peacefully beside her.
Emily envied Elize’s ability to be so unbothered in the face of the uncertain future that awaited her now that she had turned eighteen.
They had spent the last twelve years in the run-down orphanage, and while they usually sent children who turned eighteen into service elsewhere, Emily had been allowed to remain by her sister’s side for some unknown reason.
But recently, she had begun hearing whispers that Elize was to be sent away to a workhouse, and while she may have wanted to dismiss them, she had overheard the words from the master himself.
If only there was something she could do.
Sitting down and looking around their shabby room, she couldn’t ignore the niggling thought at the back of her mind that she wasn’t meant to be living in such squalor, but as always, when she poked at it, it vanished.
The only thing she recalled was drowning in ice-cold water, a pair of strong arms pulling her to the surface with a promise to return, and a pendant whose pattern she could not recognize.
She took it out again and studied the intricate design in the dim moonlight filtering in through the slits on the boarded windows.
If only she could find someone who recognized this pattern, then she would find answers to the questions that had niggled at her all these years. And she would prevent the master from separating her from Elize.
“Are ye unable to sleep, Emily?” Elize asked sleepily, turning to face her. “Is it the nightmares again?”
Emily nodded and smiled at her sister’s bleary eyes, ruffling her hair. It was moments like this that the usually abrasive girl let her guard down and made Emily appreciate her youthfulness.
“Aye, ‘tis the nightmares,” she answered.
She was often grateful that Elize remembered nothing of the accident, or she would have also been plagued by the night terrors that often kept her up into the early hours of the morning.
“I thought the lavender tea helped,” Elize said worriedly, sitting up.
“It used to, but it seems it no longer works.”
“We should see the healer tomorrow,” she suggested hastily. “She may yet have another brew for ye.”
“Daenae worry about me, Elize,” Emily said softly, taking her sister’s hands in her own. “This is me burden to bear, nae yers.”
“Ye’re me only family, Emi,” Elize answered. “How can I nae worry? Especially now that we’re to be separated.”
“Daenae say that!” Emily exclaimed, harsher than she had intended. “I willnae let that happen.”
“But it is almost certain that I will be sent away, Emi. If I’m lucky, it willnae be very far, and we can?—”
“I said, I willnae let it happen,” she insisted. “I willnae let us be separated. Never.”
Elize pulled her into a hug. “Ye worry too much for me, Emi,” she said with a smile. “I am an adult now, and I can take care of me?—”
Their chamber door opened with a soft hiss, halting their conversation, and they turned to see a hooded figure step inside.
“Who are ye?—”
“Daenae fret girls, ‘tis me,” the figure whispered, pulling back the hood.
“Hilda!” they gasped.
“Ye mustnae make so much noise,” Hilda scolded, holding a finger to her lips. “Now, come. We must leave at once.”
“Leave?” Emily frowned. “Where are we going?”
Hilda regarded them with a watery smile.
