Page 7 of A Lie so Pretty and Poisonous

“I do like adventure,” she said with a soft coo, a corner of her mouth turned up. “When do we go? Should I go pack?”

I shook my head. “I have everything packed, and we leave within the hour. Go change into something you can wear for a long journey. We will have to move quickly and quietly tonight.”

Cora blew out a breath. “Alright,” she said. “Let’s do this.”

My returning smile was grim as Cora made her way to the back of the shop and bounded up the stairs, two at a time, to our rooms. The closely shelved glass bottles quietly clinked from the vibration. If we were going to successfully get through this, I would need to borrow her bravery for a journey that was more dangerous than she realized. The unknown was more thrilling for children. Confidence of youth eventually gave way to wisdom and experience with age, herding in apprehension and doubt. I would ensure that the fear I was drenched in would not seep into her.

The energy of the festival hummed more intensely as the day wore on. The shops closed early so merchants could join in the festivities. Crowds thickened, and the light of the day softened. The robust smoke from the bonfires and the sticky-sweet crispness of perfectly ripened apples coated the air of the village. The scents and sounds were almost as thick as the tension building inside me, like wet wool clinging to my skin, heavy and uncomfortable.

Cora and I anxiously waited for the signal to open the back door and get to Alec’s awaiting merchant wagon. Greta was stationed in the front window, hanging herbs to dry and cleaning the glass to keep up the appearance that an escape attempt was not about to take place.

“We got this, Mom,” Cora softly mumbled. Her small hand encased in my sweaty palm.

“Absolutely, sweet girl. Everything will work out.” Maybe if I said it with confidence, I would believe it too. My stomach, turning in anticipation, said otherwise. I gripped the leather strap of the satchel, angled across my torso, to keep from shaking.

Breathe, Rory.

A family heirloom, a change of clothes for each of us, an assortment of herbs and plants for emergencies, and a filled coin purse that Greta insisted on giving me were all I risked packing to flee. Light and smart.

Greta coughed twice from behind me. The signal. I couldn’t bring myself to look back at her, or the tears that threatened my composure would surely release. The only path now was forward.

With my breath caught in my throat, I opened the back door, squeezed Cora’s hand tightly, and stepped into the dark alleyway behind the apothecary. We were two cloaked figures moving swiftly along the cobblestone toward the outline of a large wooden wagon with a canvas top. A cacophony of voices and music from the festival mixed with the scent of spiced meat, fruit wine, and smoke as we reached the end of the alley.

I ensured Cora was in the wagon first, then hastily climbed into the back with bated breath. We sat shrouded in darkness, the sounds and smells dampening behind the canvas and wooden walls of our temporary sanctuary. There was barely enough space for us to sit with our knees to our chests amongst the crates and jars of herbs. A soft knock hit the side of the cart in acknowledgement from Alec. A few seconds later, the cart lurched, and the wooden wheels moved. We swayed and bumped through the town’s main road, and I tightly clasped Cora to my side. Neither of us spoke or moved.

After the noise of the village had all but disappeared, the cart slowed and veered to the right. Alec’s deep, muffled voice drifted from beyond the canvas top we sat under. “We are almost on the barrier path. I’ll have you ride up with me in a moment.”

“Remember what I told you, my love. Do not even look at the barrier, and don’t touch it,” I admonished.

Irritability surfaced. “I know, Mom.”

I couldn’t see her face, but based on her tone, I could tell she rolled her eyes at me. “Alright, alright. Simply reminding you.”

The cart came to a stop, and the clomping of horse hooves quieted. Alec opened the back canvas flap with a lantern in hand, forcing me to squint at the sudden change of light. “You are both safe to come up front with me. It will be more comfortable. I even have a blanket to keep you warm, if you’d like.”

“Thanks,” Cora said with a smile and climbed over my lap and out of the wagon before my eyes could adjust to the onslaught of lantern light.

“Cora!” I called out. “Don’t you dare go anywhere but into the front of this wagon.” If I didn’t firmly make myself clear, her curiosity would get the better of her. “Thank you for being so kind, Alec.”

He offered me his hand and helped me to the ground.

Dark and dense trees greeted me with scents of pine and decaying leaves. The air chilled with the setting sun, our breath faintly puffed in misty swirls with each exhale. The calm of the forest was at odds with the strange energy that permeated the air. Even the trees and animals knew not to draw attention to themselves for fear the barrier would consume them. The charge set me on edge as it pulsed like a heartbeat.

“This place feels…off,” I remarked softly.

Alec nodded. “No matter the time of day, being this close to the barrier is always eerie. But it’s safe. I have never had anything happen. I promise.”

Cora’s voice cut through the palpable stillness. “Come on, Mom. Let’s go!”

I sighed and shook my head, causing Alec to lightly chortle. Patience for a ten-year-old was fleeting.

Alec and I seated ourselves on either side of Cora and nestled under a fur blanket. He raised the reins to cue the horse to go but stopped hesitantly and turned to me. “Before we go, Greta gave me a tincture to help you with anxiety for the next leg of our journey.” Alec produced two small vials of a cloudy liquid from his cloak pocket. “She said she made them special for you both. Something about relaxation.”

Cora loudly blurted out, “I’m not anxious. I can’t wait to go.” The wagon moved up and down as she bounced in her seat.

I wished I shared her gusto for the journey. She may not have had the anxiety that I did, but she was wound up with excitement, forgetting her volume and becoming careless. “Maybe we should both take it?” I offered cheerfully. “I don’t like tinctures, so maybe if you take the other one, it will be easier for me to take. What do you think?”

Cora dramatically rolled her eyes with a shoulder shrug thrown in for good measure. “I guess.” She snatched one of the vials from Alec as I took the other.