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The Future Belongs to No One
Ana had been expecting Tyreste or Addy. Tyreste’s raven had said only,If you can, come to the tavern at dusk for a surprise. It would mean a lot to my mother. And me.
But Olov was the one waiting when she knocked on the locked tavern doors.
“You closed Top again?” she asked, before realizing who had answered. “Oh. Mr. Penhallow. Hello.”
“About twice a year, we shut it down for a special occasion, but I believe this is a first, in the history of our business, to have done it twice in the same week,” Olov answered and stepped aside so she could enter. He threw the door bolt and secured it with a lock. “I’m glad you came. Everyone else will be too.”
Ana looked around the empty tavern. “Tyreste said Mrs. Penhallow wanted me here?”
“We all do,” Olov said and swallowed her in a hug. His eyes gleamed when he let her go. “There is no gratitude in this world adequate for what you did for us, madam.”
“Oh...” Ana didn’t know how to respond. “There’s none necessary, Mr.—”
“Olov,” he said with a fast, gentle grin. “And my wife is Fransiska. There is no need for formalities with us, especially not now. If there’s one thing a taverner understands, it’s that family is a choice.”
“Then please call me Ana.” She hesitated before saying her next words. “It’s what my friends and family call me. Even my mother was not madam to those who knew her best.”
Olov nodded. “And that is why we asked you here tonight, Ana. We would like for you to know us better... and if it pleases you, we’d love to know you better as well.”
Ana tingled with the potential of such a gift. She fixed her stare on the same bar where she’d first spotted the man who had stolen her heart with a crooked smile. To know him better, his people better, though... how utterly terrifying. A glimpse into a life that could never be hers.
She nodded anyway.
“Come then.” Olov held out an arm and ushered her into the back room. She moved ahead, knowing her way through the kitchen. She turned when she reached the back door, and he gestured for her to exit.
Once outside, he carefully stepped around her and led the way. At first she thought he would take her to the spot she’d been with Tyreste before, the one she wasn’t supposed to know about, but they went right past the campsite and moved deeper into the forest.
“Watch your step for this next part. The logs are covered with slick moss,” Olov called from ahead—a timely warning, for Ana nearly upended herself when her boots failed to grip. She righted herself, dodging ludicrously oversized toadstools and rough thatches of brambles, eventually catching up.
Farther on, there were two logs stacked, and she had started to search for a way to go around when Olov doubled back and lifted her over the obstruction like she was nothing more than a doll. “As a tall man, sometimes I forget not everyone has my long legs,” he said sheepishly, and instead of going on ahead, he hung back and walked by her side.
The canopy of bowing pine branches thickened the deeper they went, and before long, darkness had obscured the path entirely. She moved slower, guided only by the sensations greeting her boots, but Olov gently looped his arm through hers and helped her through the absence of light.
Laughter cut through the solitude of the forest. A dance of light flickered through the occasional gap in the trees. “Almost there,” Olov said, smiling from the side. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
“A little of both,” she said. Her appetite had been nearly nonexistent for weeks, but her stomach suddenly rumbled, and her tongue longed for something to wet it.
“Agnes made a rhubarb stew, and Tyreste, well, I’m sure you’re familiar with his cider.”
“Very.” Ana smiled and quickened her pace to catch the light revealing the path.
Olov shuffled down a short, slippery hill and turned to help her navigate it. When she reached the bottom, they were in a clearing, centered by a roaring bonfire contained by boulders. All the Penhallows were there, save the ones who had left. Fransiska. Adeline. Agnes and her betrothed, Stojan, someone Ana and Niko had played with when they were children, before Magda had stolen their innocence. Rikard and his wife, Faustina, another person Ana had known her whole life. Faustina and Agnes were both full with child, and Ana’s heart swelled to see Vjestik and stranjak so united. The Penhallows had integrated into their society so smoothly, it was hard to remember they weren’t Vjestik at all.
Tyreste had spotted her first and was looking her way, his eyes lidded. He moved sideways on the log to make room for her.
Ana removed her cloak and draped it over the log before sitting. She glanced around, expecting some of them to be laughing at her for wanting to keep her gown tidy, but no one was. They only waited for her to get settled.
Tyreste kissed her temple and handed her a cider. “I wasn’t sure you’d come, but I’m so glad you’re here.”
Ana’s face flooded with heat. She brought the cider to her mouth. Suddenly bashful, she pulled it away. “Me too.”
One by one, the others came over to thank her. They embraced her, kissed her, and whispered their gratitude. Fransiska was last, sobbing through her words and holding so tight to Ana, it seemed she’d never let go. But Ana didn’t want her to. The sobs hit her next, remembering how wonderful and pure it was to be held by a mother figure, as she mourned her own mother again.
“You will never know anything but love from a Penhallow. You are one of us,” Fransiska said as she pulled away and kissed her on both sides of Ana’s mouth, like her mother used to do. “And I mean that, Anastazja.” She was still sniffling as she returned to her own log.
Addy smiled at Ana from across the fire. She signed,We love you. You belong here.
