Page 18 of Consumed
Amidst the uproarious noise, I forced myself to slip through the door. The cacophony, so grating and utterly human, nearly made me retreat. But I couldn’t leave Eoin. I pulled the hood of my gifted cloak up, dropping into the empty end of a bench where I could go unnoticed.
As I sank with relief, a weight in my simple gown’s pocket caught my attention. Reaching in, I felt the skin of smooth, plump berries. I could picture them in my mind’s eye—bright purple, perfectly ripe. I could scarcely recall plucking them from the bush.
Sudden quiet fell over the tavern, startling me more than the raucous noise.
An elderly woman’s voice broke the silence. “Take each other’s hand and hold steady—very good.”
Every eye was fixed on Eoin and his bride-to-be, who stood at the front of the tavern. The elderly woman—I had never seen a human so advanced in age—began wrapping a braided cord around their hands. It knotted around their knuckles, their wrists, their forearms nearly to the elbow.
“May you forever be one,” the woman said, her frail voice carrying to every corner of the tavern. “In love, in loyalty, for all time to come.”
My throat tightened around the threat of a shriek.
A handfasting ceremony.
The image and its name wavered on the edge of a faraway memory, much like everything else that had felt familiar since leaving the forest. The weight of the ceremony sat upon my heart like a jagged stone. I wanted to push past the villagers and rip the cord away, shred it into pieces to free Eoin from being bound to this woman.
A small noise did escape me, but another round of cheers masked it as the cord was fully fastened.
Brianna leaned up to kiss him eagerly, and I begged Eoin to pull away, to realize that this was all wrong. But his lips met hers, and he pulled her closer like he was starving for her taste.
How can he bear to kiss such a disgusting creature,I thought.She’s tricked him. He doesn’t want this—any of this.
The gentle pluck of music was replaced with a riotous duo of fiddles. Dancing spread through the room like it was contagious, and Eoin led them all. His lean, toned frame cut a striking figure even in a crowd. Brianna clutched at him, shrieking with laughter as they stepped in time. His movements were untethered, light-footed as a stag. I couldn’t help butcompare the way he’d danced with me those months ago in the pond—slow and restrained, like he was walking in a dream.
As more of the villagers circled into the dance, I stood, snatching up a forgotten goblet on the table beside me. I clutched the polished wood tighter with every stab of pain that came from my careful footsteps. It was getting worse. How much time did I have left?
I stole a glance out the window, where the slope of the forest lay in wait beyond the thatched rooftops. My heart skipped a beat when I saw pinpricks of light in the branches. A perfect, unnatural line along the oaks.
My sisters, watching and waiting for me.
Stomach twisting, I stared back stoically. They could not be pleased by this. But they would never understand. Eoin was unlike the other mortals here—and needed me to keep him from harm.
Still, they watched.
I nearly barreled right into another dancing couple as I uneasily tore my gaze away from the window. I dodged around a barrel of flour, keeping to the walls.
Pieces of conversation caught my ear, and I allowed myself to watch from my new position out of the way. Eoin and his bride-to-be spoke with their guests between dances about how her dowry would be of great help through the winter months and beyond. Their gratitude for the wedding gifts was already set upon their doorstep.
The winter—that must be why he chose to wed now. He was marrying this girl out of desperation, out of the sheer need to survive the winter thanks to the provisions the wedding would bring. Shadows curled in my chest at the thought of what I could have provided—how much more Ishouldhave offered Eoin before this wraith swept in and convinced him she was worthy of his affection.
A guest with ale-reddened cheeks and plaited red hair embraced them both, asking if they hoped for a son or daughter. A snarl built in my throat as Brianna smiled widely and exchanged a look with Eoin.
“My family has been blessed with many sets of twins,” she answered in that grating, lyrical voice. “Perhaps we will have both.”
The rest of the room didn’t understand, but that smile on Eoin’s face was strained, full of regret and fear at the thought of such a commitment.
Another stab of pain shot through me—this time, a cold sweat broke out on my brow. It was like the edge of a blade had been dragged up the backs of my legs, burying the hilt in my lower back. I gasped hard enough to turn heads.
Another glance at the window. The sun had lowered, and my sisters were no longer on the treeline. Somehow, that only felt worse. I looked down at my hands, where the illusion of life still thrummed weakly.
I’m running out of time.
Suddenly, the air felt too thick and stale with the smell of too many things at once—sweat and ale, herbed bread and smoky embers.Air.I needed fresh air. In the sea of faces, I could no longer spot Eoin’s golden-brown hair.
I found a side door and made a quick exit, gasping in the clean, biting air outside. There was a small courtyard behind the tavern, bearing a cobblestone well, several barrels of food and mead, and a wall of firewood stacked by the door. And ahead—
Home.
