Page 15 of Consumed
As I watched the distant figures of humans milling about their duties, a heavy throb of lucidity stirred within me. I was steps away from the village paths and yet a world apart. For the first time in many years, the question drifted into focus:What had happened to me?
A contemplative wind gusted through the woods, caressing the locks of hair that hung over my shoulders like fingers combing through tenderly.
We’re not meant to bear such things,my sisters said.
They were all around in the trees. Over a dozen of them—ivory skin that glowed in the sunlight and pale hair sapped of all color. They watched from trees above, or peering behind the trunks of gnarled oaks even older than us. Their whispering rose into an endless hum of energy.
Go no further, sister, they begged. Their urgency heightened as though they meant to protect me from something horrid, but none of them would dare to draw so close to the forest’s edge, where I stood.
And then, my eyes fell upon what they attempted to shield me from. A glimmer on the ground made my throat run dry. The frantic whispering came to an abrupt stop. Wrapped in silence, I considered turning around, pretending I had never seen it.
Stepping forward, I plucked the cold, hard gem from the bed of winter decay.
My tear.
Hands trembling, I nearly let it slip from my fingers. Perhaps he dropped my gift by accident. He was mortal, after all—prone to clumsiness and carelessness.
Or he meant to discard it, one of my sisters dared to hiss.A rejection of your gift. A quiet promise to never return.
A rustle of agreement shivered through the forest, trying to draw me back to safety. To make me believe that Eoin wanted nothing more to do with me. To forget him. But rather than flee back into the embrace of my home, I latched onto the enraging idea that Eoin would hold hate for me within his heart.
I wanted to howl. I wanted to rip him apart.
All I could see was the guilt etched upon his face when he’d pushed me away. The desire was there. Itwas. I just needed to help him see it.
Therejection wasn’t his own doing. It was the woman who took him away from me. A traveler, he said. A hateful wraith—perhaps even a creature sent by the Wild Hunt to torment me, to rip away the one villager unafraid of the forest and weaken us.
Stay, my sisters begged.Should the woman be a wraith, leave the mortal to his fate.
But my anguish was more powerful than their pleas could hope to be, drowning out their beckons. The ground around me erupted in bright green leaves that had no place in the dead of winter. Brambles crackled forth from the bushes, dripping with purple berries.
Pale faces watched with wide eyes. Their whispers grew louder until my voice drowned them all out.
“I will not stand idly by any longer,” I proclaimed. “This wraith—thiswitch... Eoin needs me to watch over him.”
But I could not traverse into the village in this form. I would be unprotected, slaughtered. Superstitions could so easily turn to violence—I had witnessed it countless times. I would need an illusion, the type of magic that had gone untouched for decades. Such power was only used for keeping the mortals in their place.
The thought of donning a mortal disguise filled me with revulsion, but I could not bear to retreat—not with this hatred that pulsed through me like the fierce current of a thawed river. I could still feel Eoin’sbreath against me—the promise of eternity. The forest could not contain me any longer.
It will hurt terribly,one of my sisters reminded me—her voice a whisper in the wind.
I couldn’t bring myself to care. Physical pain might be a welcome reprieve from the cavernous ache of loneliness. And besides, who were they to judge me after the countless wicked things that had unfolded at their hands over the centuries?
I summoned the magic, shutting my eyes to focus. I willed the illusion of life—freckled, sun-kissed skin, color in my cheeks, a rich brunette to my hair.
When I opened my eyes again, my sisters were gone. Surely they could not bear the sight of me now. Perhaps they were right. The magic had left me breathless in a way my usual power did not, as though even my own body protested me.
I turned my hands over, marveling at my handiwork. The illusion was perfect, but a strange ache swirled in as I touched the simple chemise dress that had replaced my opalescent gown. There was something so familiar about the way it fell over me. A part of me wanted to chase that feeling to the end of the earth—to remember.
But the illusion would only last for hours. I had to be swift.
Gathering myself, I took my first step out of the forest. White-hot pain shot through my leg. I howled, keelingonto my side along the cobblestone path. I looked at my bare feet, feeling for the wound. But there was no blood—not even the faintest scratch.
I looked up at the towering oaks, feeling the winter’s bite more harshly as I recalled my sisters’ warning.
It will hurt.
Breathing heavily, I rose to my feet and took another step. The pain shot through my right foot this time, nearly blinding me. I groaned, nearly falling to my knees yet again. Every step felt like stepping on a blade.
