Page 2 of The Orc's Stolen Shepherdess

The grass wasn’t underwater. The grass wasgone.

I pulled out my crook and backed away from the edge as a shiver raced up my spine. I didn’t take my eyes away from the threat for a moment.

How had this happened? And why? Why would the Fades steal away my family’s largest grass patch? We’d been leading our sheep to it since my grandfather was first shepherd. It had always been here, like a steadfast friend.

And now it was justgone.

With a sharp inhale, I pursed my lips just right and let out a low whistle. The bright sound pierced through the chilly air and carried deep into the surrounding woods. I scanned the tree line, adjusting my pack so I could get some parchment and a pencil. I needed to write to my father and Headman Gerald. They needed to know about this. . . this collapse of the ground.

Itwasn’t natural.

I finished scrawling the note and searched the gold and red trees again.

No bird had come. Why hadn’t a bird come?

Here in the Rove Woods, bird messengers were common, but they were enchanted by orc magic, so using them could be difficult for humans. It had taken me years of practice to learn the right whistle to call them. Most of my fellow villagers never learned. It didn’t matter to them since they spent most of their lives within the walls of our village.

But I was out here alone and the ability to send a bird for aid was vital. It was one of the only reasons my father allowed me to continue this work.

I whistled again. And again.

Still, a bird did not come. The woods around me were eerily silent.

“L-let’s move on to another spot for now.” I tried to keep my voice steady and confident, even as my heart began a frantic tempo. I turned to my flock and tapped my crook on the ground. “We can move on to the east. We’re certain to find some lovely patch of something yummysome. . . where. . . where is Midnight?”

I hurried into the flock of sheep, moving around them to search behind trees and bushes. Their bushy white bodies were warm under my fingertips as I counted them. Once, twice.

All here but Midnight.

“Blast it all, Midnight. Why do you keep wandering off?” I clicked my tongue and tapped the sheep gently on their behinds with my crook to get them moving. They bleated in outrage that we were abandoning their favorite spot without so much as a nibble.

“The grass isn’t here, Rosemary,” I said tensely as I tapped the stubborn sheep’s woolly bottom again. “Now, come on. We need to find Midnight before she gets into more trouble.”

She was our best ewe. Our only black one. The sweetest one in the flock.

And also, the most daring. I swear, Midnight wandered into trouble at least once a moon.

I couldn’t let that happen today. Not after we’d already lost the grazing ground. Father would be in a right state when he found out. His joints would probably flare up even worse from the stress. He worried about me too much already.

“You need to choose a partner.”

I gritted my teeth. I wouldn’t have minded a partner, really. All my fondest memories were with my father and mother by my side. There was a little shelter right across the clearing that we’d all built together. My father and I still stayed overnight there during the summer. Or at least we had until his joints. . .

I pushed my worries aside and chose instead to focus on the fond memories of my childhood—before my mother had died, before my father had become unwell. We’d worked as a team out here. A whole lifetime of labor and laughter and love.

But I would have none of that with Jophel. The only one who wanted me. All he wanted was for me to look pretty while I slaved over his stove.

“Midnight!” I called as we walked through the woods. The sheep bleated and followed hesitantly. I clicked my tongue to keep them moving, but their hungry bellies were quite the distraction, and the blackberry vines were rampant in this area. “Midnight. Here, girl!”

No luck. Not even a rustle in the bushes. The wind in the trees was growing stronger, and the light was dimmingas the sun set behind them, casting deep, dark shadows. There wasn’ttimefor this.

“Midnight, you come out here thisinstant.” My voice was edged with panic and I rubbed my thumb against the groove in my crook, wishing that the nervous habit could do more than remind me my predecessors had all done the same. They’d all had setbacks. They’d all had injured sheep and bad grazing days and lost—

A bleat in the distance made me want to collapse with relief. I could recognize Midnight’s low, lazy tone anywhere.

“This way.” I clicked my tongue, and the sheep followed at my heel. I focused on my familiar surroundings to ease my worry. I’d walked—and been carried before that—these woods my entire life. Thirty-three years of breathing in the fresh and fragrant air, eating wild berries, drinking clean water from the springs.

The bleating sounded again, and my heart leaped into my throat as I saw a rocky outcropping. “Fades, have mercy. Midnight, why did you gothere?” She knew how dangerous it was to climb those rocks.

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