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I spat more blood onto the ground and stalked off around the side of the building. Throwing back my shoulders, I raised mychin, trying to be as regal as Briar. I’d be swollen with bruises, but I didn’t dare shift again—not here, anyway. That was a much closer call than I’d let on. I needed to grab my things and find a way out of this town before people came looking for who did this to them. If I was lucky, their pride would get the better of them and they’d say it was a bear attack. Either way, I couldn’t stick around. No more foolish mistakes.
I wiped my nose with the back of my hand. Dried blood stained the front of my dress brown... and it wasn’t only my blood. I’d left the inn through the window once more and headed up the main road out of town. The crickets and hooting owls silenced as I passed, waiting until I prowled away before striking up their nighttime chorus. I felt the moon’s watchful eye, seeing my grimy garments and hair clotted with blood. With each step uphill, the air thinned, growing frostier by the minute.
My backpack tugged on my shoulders, my briefly healed feet blistering again on the dusty road. How could humans stand being so fragile, I wondered tiredly. I didn’t know how many hours I had slept at the inn. Not enough.
My throat was scratchy and my eyes swollen as I stared up at her—the mother Goddess in the nighttime sky who hears us all.
“Do you still watch over Briar?” I whispered to her. “Do you still speak to her in her dreams?”
A tear slipped down my cheek, the salt stinging my cuts.
“Those white roses are probably brown now.” I sniffed, wiping my scratchy woolen sleeve under my eyes. The thoughts that had swarmed my mind came spilling out even as I choked on my words. “I wish it was me. Briar deserves to be a part of this world. She wasmeantto be a part of it. I was never planned, never wanted. It should be me lying cold on that tomb.” Cold air slid over my bottom teeth and I gulped a pained breath. “She would’ve had a plan. She would’ve told me what I needed to doto fix this.” I stared up through watery eyes at the glowing moon. “I can’t just fight my way out of this. But that’s all I know. What do I do now?
“Who am I supposed to be without her?”
Tears trailed over my lips as I tried to regain my composure. It was true. I had always taken my cue from Briar. Whatever she was, I was the opposite—if she liked sweets, I only wanted savory. If she wore pastels, I wore earth tones. If she wanted to be the center of attention, I wanted to be a shadow. I always knew how to be by looking at her. Who would I be if I had to decide on my own? I couldn’t put my finger on why, there were no words to describe it, but none of my options felt right.
I imagined Briar walking beside me, her breath fogging the evening air as we both stared out at the dark forest. If she appeared right now, I wouldn’t question it—it would only feel right. She was supposed to be here with me.
I reached out with my senses as if I might be able to feel her. I always knew when she was close, but now I felt nothing.
Just me. Only me.
A building appeared on the side of the road, and my eyes widened.
No, not a building, a wagon.
It had giant wheels, taller than me, and a towering canvas roof. I crept closer, not seeing a single flicker of candlelight. Whoever owned this monstrous wagon appeared to be asleep. Colorful ribbons streamed along the side windows in a riot of color. Carved wood wrapped around the back door leading into the wagon’s back cabin. Painted musical notes danced along the wood.
What strange sort of traveler lived here?
It didn’t matter, so long as they were leaving town.
I snuck to where two dusty leather trunks hung on either side of the folded-up stairs. With deft fingers, I raised the rusting latch and lifted the heavy lid. I placed my pack in first, wedging it between stacks of balled fabrics and leather bags. I clambered in and pulled the hessian cover back over my head.
It was a strange load of wares. Clothiers perhaps? The thick wad of canvas beside me felt more like tenting fabric. Maybe they were stall holders at a country fair? Judging by the cobwebs, these bags didn’t get taken out often, and I hoped their owners would ride out of town without checking them.
Curling into a ball, I settled my swollen cheek against the rough fabric. I felt for the front pocket of my pack, untying it and grabbing out my knife.
“Goddess, bless me this night,” I whispered. “Grant me safe passage through the mountains.”
I lifted my chin to the sky beyond the sealed lid, and the cuts along my neck stung at the movement. I prayed that the night was calm and that I could get a few more hours’ sleep to prepare for whatever lay ahead. I clutched my knife to my chest as my eyes fluttered closed.
Fifteen
I held in another sneeze. The wheels kicked up so much dust it was unbearable. I jostled back and forth, being shoved side to side as the wagon bumped over the rocky terrain. We’d been riding uphill all morning. My legs shook from bracing myself against the trunk’s side. My ribs smarted with each bounce and shudder. Finally, I relented and just let the wagon tousle me about.
The rocking slowed, the driver called to someone, and then the wagon halted. I clutched the hilt of my knife tighter. My ears strained, still ringing from the attack the night before.
“All right then,” a warm voice said. They spoke in Valtan, the language of the Onyx Wolf kingdom. But the accent was distinctly human, not as formal or lilting as the Wolves’ tongue. “Who are ya?”
The lid lifted and the hessian above my head peeled back. Shielding my eyes, I squinted against the bright sunlight. The human hovered over me, cocking their head like a curious pup. Their eyes scanned my face, widening at my wounds. It must’ve looked pretty bad then.
“Hello,” they said, touching their fingers to their forehead. “What’s your name?”
“My name’s... Calla.” I considered lying, but no one knew that name.
My Valtan was a garbled mess. Vellia had trained us in all four languages of the continent, but the Onyx Wolf kingdom’s language was the hardest to comprehend.
