Page 2 of Apples Dipped in Gold

Rooster was a stallion and older than Jackal, my eldest brother, who was two and thirty. Mouse gave a high-pitched mewl. It was her way of saying no.

“You had better wake him. The boys will be impatient to leave today. The snow is coming.”

Mouse’s response was a growl. I knew why she protested. Rooster was tired, but it could not behelped. Even the old worked in Gnat, human and animal alike.

“I know he needs rest. If it were up to me, I would not send him into the forest at all.”

Rooster accompanied my brothers on their hunt, and since we only had one stallion, they took turns riding him. Rooster was not fond of the woods and moved slowly. My brothers took this as being disobedient and whipped him to keep him moving. I hated it, but when I had voiced my anger, Jackal threatened to whip me. Rooster, sweet Rooster, had stepped between us, and his defiance had angered Jackal, but the threat of a strike from the powerful stallion kept him at bay.

“Strike me and I will put an arrow through your leg. I do not care if you are the only horse in all of Gnat,” Jackal had threatened through clenched teeth. Then he looked at me. “And you. You will pay for his disobedience. Do you spend all your evenings in the barn whining about how terrible we are? No wonder he defies us. Well, I will show you cruel, you ungrateful git.”

I spent the night in the barn after Jackal’s threat, too afraid of what he might do in the night, but that had only delayed the inevitable. The next morning, he woke me by dousing me in ice-cold water and threw a dull knife at my feet.

“You will go to the moor and dig peat for our fires.”

Still soaked, I had ventured into the bog. My fingers were so frozen, I could hardly hold the knife.

I would have never guessed that day, born in so much misery, would lead to an even worse day—the day I would eventually betray the fae man I loved.

You really are a silly git, I told myself.You cannot love a man you have never really seen.

But I knew by the way my chest ached, I had.

Thankfully, I was roused from the pain by a sharp cry from Mouse, a familiar sound that usually signaled the approach of one of my brothers. My heart raced as I whirled to see which of the three were approaching, except no one was there.

Still Mouse continued to hiss, showing her sharp teeth. The hair on her back stood on end.

I studied the tree line just beyond the rotting wooden fence that lined our property. The trees there were like giants—ancient and menacing. Thick fog poured from the darkness between the trunks, snaking through the air toward me like beckoning fingers. Though I saw nothing else, that did not mean no one was there. The fae usually moved about the world invisible to mortals. It was when they chose to show themselves that trouble followed, and while there was a part of me that wished I had never met the nameless, faceless fae, there was also a part of me that wondered—that wished, though those were dangerous things—that it was he who watched me so closely.

I shook my head to dismiss the thoughts and then reached for Mouse, who I held against my breast.

“Nothing to worry over, sweetling,” I said, placing her on the ground. “Now go and rouse Rooster.”

Mouse cut me a sharp look before stretching and wandering off to the barn.

I finished gathering the wood and returned to the cottage. With the kindling restocked and the fire lit and warming the house, I started breakfast, frying ham and potatoes, boiling eggs, and porridge. With everything prepared and warming, I headed upstairs to perform my most dreaded task—waking my brothers.

It did not matter that the three expected me every morning. I was always faced with some kind of threat. If they did not curse at me, they threw whatever was in reach. I’d already tried keeping their tables clear, except that night, each brother had brought every breakablething to their bedside and threw it at me when I opened the door the next morning.

I decided then my attempts to make my life a little more bearable weren’t worth the consequences. So my brothers did what they wanted to me, and so long as Mouse and Rooster were safe, I thought I could take it.

I topped the steps and approached the first door on the right. The room belonged to my youngest brother, Hans. He was the quietest of the three, and while that meant he did not subject me to quite as many insults, his preferred method of torture was what he calledtricks.

The door creaked as it opened, and it was dark. The embers in his fireplace were nearly snuffed out. I glanced at the bed and could not see Hans, though that was usual. He liked to bury himself beneath the covers. That was probably best. It would be easier to revive the fire with him asleep.

I crossed to the hearth and kneeled, repeating the same process I’d gone through downstairs, except this time, the bucket of kindling was full. With the fire blazing, I started to rise when someone shoved me.

I flailed and caught myself, palms pressed flat against the hot stone of the hearth. The pain was instant and sharp. I yelped and pushed away, landing on my ass. For a few seconds, I could do nothing but sit in quiet shock, palms red and throbbing.

Behind me, Hans broke into peals of laughter.

“You should have known better than to assume I was asleep!”

My eyes watered, partly from the pain but also from embarrassment. I shoved those feelings down, because they had no place here. No one survived this life feelingsorry for themselves. Besides, Hans was right—I should have known.

I rose to my feet, pushing up from the cold stone floor, wincing at the pain. The palms of my hands felt taut, as if I suddenly didn’t have enough skin.

I would have left without a word, but I thought the consequences might be worse if I did, so I spoke.

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