Chapter 4

~4~

Taken

“Kale, we need to talk.”

Kale looked from his breakfast at the girl staring down at him. Her blue eyes were careful; she was trying not to act mad. Her thick lips were stretched into a fake smile. Kismet, Kale’s sister, sighed from beside him but kept out of it.

They were in the dining hall with hundreds of witnesses chatting over each other between mouthfuls of sweet ham, fruit, and pastries. Long tables rippled the entire high-ceilinged room.

Jaclyn’s palms were damp with sweat as she waited for Kale’s reply. It had taken much convincing from her friends to ask him to talk, and now she wished she hadn’t. His black eyes wearily raked her from head to foot. His pitch black hair was unkempt, as usual, cutting off just at the nape of his neck. He blew a strand out of his eyes and licked his dry lips.

“So talk,” Kale said. He wondered at how she had been cute when he thought he couldn’t have her. She’d been a challenge. Not a difficult one, it turned out, and now she was just annoying.

She glanced at the dining hall-full of people- uncertainly. “Here?”

Kale wiped his hands on his pants. “Why not?”

She considered making him speak with her outside, but that was so stupid. He’d think she was an idiot.

“Well . . . okay.” She began slowly. “Where have you been?” She cursed herself for such a stupid question. But how else would she describe it? “I mean it’s like you disappeared after-”

“I’ve been here. Not like they’d let me leave if I tried.” He glanced to the Raviar; five elders all high and mighty at the front of the room.

“I know you’ve been here. I just-” She sighed. She had to tell the truth. Just say it! “Its just, ever since you kissed me, you’ve acted like . . .”

He raised a slim brow and looked up at her witheringly, suddenly interested in the conversation. There was something in his eyes, amusement maybe? Whatever it was, it had her wishing she never would have brought it up. “I kissed you?”

She frowned. “Of course you kissed me! I would have never made the first move.”

Kismet, feeling uncomfortable, stood and left the table. She should have been used to the scornful conversations and the pretty girls, but she wasn’t.

Kale laughed once without any mirth. “Ever since ‘I kissed you’ I’ve been acting like what?”

“Like an ass,” Jaclyn snapped, suddenly angry at the beautiful boy. “Were you just pretending to like me?”

“Of course not. I liked you.” When I couldn’t have you.

She threw her hands up. “And what? You just don’t anymore? All of the sudden?”

He shrugged. It always played out like this: A girl was cute. They were happy. He grew bored. She got mad. “I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s not like we we’re married Jaclyn.”

She pursed her lips, feeling terribly degraded. “Fine,” was all she said and stocked off.

Kale sighed a breath of relief. “That wasn’t so bad,” he said turning to where his sister had been, but she wasn’t there. He frowned and scanned the room for her. She wasn’t with the group they usually sat with. The only reason they had been sitting at the small, round table pushed into the back corner was because Kale was on probation.

“You hooked up with Jaclyn?” An angry voice said from behind him. He turned to see one of the two guards glowering down at him. These two men followed him everywhere when he wasn’t in his probation cell and it was beginning to get a bit claustrophobic.

“Eaves dropping?” Kale inquired and turned to his unfinished breakfast.

The guard’s big hand slammed down on the table hard, making the dishes rattle. He leaned over Kale’s shoulder with malicious eyes.

“Can I help you with something?” Kale asked.

“I don’t appreciate how you treated her,” The guard growled. The other edged forward curiously.

“Yes well, I don’t appreciate when people invade my space and screw around in my business.”

“Jaclyn is my little sister.”

“Ah,” Kale nodded. “So naturally, this is your business.” He pursed his lips and sized the man with one look. He was big.

The guard’s hand moved from the table to Kale’s shoulder, clutching it too tightly.

“I suggest,” Kale said, turning to look at him, “that you take your hand off me.”

“Or what?”

“Or my probation will be extended for immobilizing my probation guard. And I was hoping to get off early for good behavior.”

He squeezed his shoulder painfully tight and Kale sighed. “Fine,” he muttered and spun his legs over the bench, wrenched from the guard’s grip, and was behind him before he could react. He gripped the man’s thick hair, and drove his head into the table with a satisfying crack. The man stood and stumbled backwards, his hands covering his face. Dark blood seeped from beneath his fingers.

Kale didn’t wait to see if the other guard would engage; he hurled his foot to the man’s stomach with a satisfying blow that knocked him off his feet. 

Most everyone in the hall had gone silent and stared with shocked faces. The members of the Raviar glared with rage in their old eyes and Kale, with a challenge in his eyes, threw them an infuriating wink.

* * *

By the third day of traveling, I was a bit worried that we hadn’t come across Foster City. By the end of the fourth day, I was very worried. We were running dangerously low on rations. Luckily, we were able to bathe and fill our canteens in a stream we came across but even that wouldn’t last much longer.

It was Sky who brought it up that night as we lay under the roof of leaves that had become so familiar. I had little trouble finding sleep while lying on the cold, uneven earth now, though my muscles still hadn’t come to agree with the soreness and Sky’s nightmares were relentless. Every night I’d wake to her screams and have to shake her awake. She dreamt of the people she loved burning all around her. She was as clueless about what really happened to Coren’s arm as I was, but she knew it was her fault and couldn’t talk about it for long before breaking into tears.

“How far away is this place?” Sky asked, curled into my side as she did every night. I remained unsuccessful in building a fire no matter how many times I tried; all we had to stay warm was our own body heat.

“I’m not exactly sure,” I gnawed on my bottom lip. “I thought we would have gotten there by now. Maybe tomorrow . . .”

Sky yawned and tugged the blanket up to her chin. “Well I hope it’s not too much farther. Good night.”

“Night.” I put my arm around her and my eyes slid shut with heavy exhaustion. For once, I didn’t cry myself to sleep.

I was on the edge of unconsciousness, on the line between dreams and sad reality. The trees rustled in the wind, sounding almost like voices. Whispered voices hissing about some unfathomable secret. The leaves grew louder and I swayed with them in the cold breeze. And as I was slowly dragged from dream state, they were more distinct and harsher as if the secret they shared was on the verge of exposure.

My eyes opened to see Sky’s little figure huddled into me, her silhouette lit by the silver moonlight. The air was especially brisk and my body felt stiff. It must have been early into the morning.

Then, I heard again what had woken me in the first place. Voices.

“There’s no way it could be that easy.” One scoffed.

“And yet, here they are.”

I froze, my arm going rigged around my sister. It wasn’t the trees; it was real people I had heard. Without moving, I scanned what I could see of the clearing and came to the realization that the two voices stood behind our heads, not far at all.

“What if it isn’t them?” One said to the other.

“Of course it’s them. Two little girls don’t just camp out in the middle of the woods by themselves.”

“Good point. Now what?”

“We take them back to the Bramillion.” It was two boys. This one spoke as if he were saying the most obvious truth.

The Bramillion? What were we going to do? Obviously these people were looking for us. What if they heard about what happened at home? I nudged Sky’s leg with my own and she stirred.

“Don’t,” she groaned much too loud. She may as well have screamed.

I flipped the blankets off and Sky’s eyes popped open with a start. “Get up,” I ordered and yanked her to her feet to face the strangers.

My heart hammered in my chest and Sky’s eyes went wide when she followed my gaze to the two boys that now stood only a few feet from us. One was tall and burly with a nervous grin plastered on his face. The other was stout and surly looking. Sky wrapped herself around my arm.

The tall one rose one hand and waved. “Hey there,” he said as if he were greeting two friends.

Somehow I found my voice through the fear. “What do you want? Who are you?”

The tall one spoke again, gesturing to himself then his companion. “My name is Keaton and this is my brother Alec. We . . . um . . .” He made an uncomfortable sound and looked to Alec who was staring at us like we were a treasure that he’d been searching for, for years. There was a long silence before Keaton continued. “Are you Sky?”

She gasped and met his gaze. I angled my body between them protectively. “What do you want?”

Keaton tore his eyes from Sky to me. “To help you.”

My brows arched. “Help us?” Doubtful. I eyed the long blade at Alec’s hip.

“Yes, help you.”

“And how are you going to do that?” I said and took a tiny step back, hoping they wouldn’t notice. Alec’s eyes flashed to my foot. Should we run? I looked to Sky as if she would have the answer but she only stared at the boys terrified.

“We’re going to take you somewhere where you’ll be safe. The people from your town are looking for you.”

A stab of pain struck my heart when I thought of home. I shoved the thought back and locked it away.

“Somewhere safe? Where is safe?” We inched back another step.

Keaton looked uneasy and his brother looked tense. I wonder how we looked. “The Bramillion,” Keaton answered. “There’s people like you there-”

“The Bramillion? I’ve never heard of it.” I didn’t want to ask what he meant by ‘people like us’. “Why would you want to help us?”

His face went helpless at that and he looked to Alec again. This time, he did have something to say.

“Because we heard what happened,” Alec said. Compared to his brother, Keatons voice was as soft as the leaves in the wind. Alec’s was like rock slamming metal. “About the whole witchcraft thing and-”

“We’re not witches,” I said in a voice as sharp as a dagger. I couldn’t control the unexpected anger that flared inside my chest.

“We know,” Keaton murmured. “That’s why we want to help.”

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “So you went through the trouble of looking for us? That seems like a lot of effort to put into finding two girls that hardly matter, don’t you think?”

“You were in our house!” Sky burst and we all looked to her. Her eyes sparkled with intuition. “Your name is Alec. You were at our house, I heard you.”

“That’s right,” Keaton grinned then frowned. “Wait. Where were you?”

“Oh,” I interrupted, pushing Sky back a few steps. “So you were stalking us. Yeah. That’s way too much effort. What do you really want?”

“Do you want our help or not?” Said Alec rudely.

“Not!” I answered automatically.

He frowned like he didn’t expect that answer. “What I meant was, are you going to come with us on your own? Or do we have to knock you out and drag you all the way there?”

“Alec!” Keaton shoved his shoulder, though he didn’t budge. “Now they’re definitely not going to come with us on their own!”

“They weren’t going to in the first place,” he said and turned to his brother as if he were preparing for an argument.

Sky and I edged back until my back hit a tree. There was a nagging at the back of my mind that we should take our bags, but there was no time. We had to get out of here before-

“Hey!” Keaton said when he redirected his attention on us. “Don’t run.”

Alec looked to us and then to his thick belt he wore as he picked at something on it.

“We’re not going with you.” My voice was shaky despite my determination to sound fierce. “Please. Just leave.”

Keaton shook his head and looked like he was about to speak but Alec raised a skinny tube to his mouth and puffed a breath of air into it.

Almost simultaneously, there was a sharp pinch in my neck. I gasped and reached for the prick to feel a long skinny stick protruding from my neck. The earth suddenly teetered beneath my feet, throwing me off balance and my eye lids went heavy as led.

I looked to Alec, bewildered and he answered my unspoken question with one word.

“Teel.” He smiled mischievously and the ground spun up to meet my face just as the world went black.

* * *

   

Kale mulled over his actions in his cell, as the Raviar had intended him to do by punishing him. Why couldn’t he have just apologized to the guard for disrespecting Jaclyn? Why was he so rude to Jaclyn in the first place? He thought of the girl with her long hair and her dark blue eyes. The feel of her body pressed against his as they kissed. The soft curve of her waist beneath his hands. The obnoxious laugh that resembled a tortured pig more than it did a girl. The way she talked and talked for hours on end about meaningless things. The way she was always there, leaving no moment to be with only himself.

Oh yeah. In his experience, it was best to burn bridges than to have a gentle break off.

Regardless, he was still so bored.

He laid on his bed-one of the two in the probation cell-with his fingers laced behind his head on the pillow. He retraced the cracks in the ceiling with his eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time. There should have been some form of entertainment in the cell. Instead, the small room consisted of a trunk at the foot of one of the two single beds strapped in white sheets, a night table between the two with a few candles, and a square window right above it.

Another week. And to think he was so close to getting out.

There was a rattling on the other end of the door then, and he watched as he heard the click that announced it was unlocked. The door swung open and Alec strutted in the room looking superior. He barely gave Kale a passing glance before stepping aside to allow Keaton through. There was a body draped over Keaton’s shoulder like a sack of flower.

“Hey Kale,” Keaton greeted and walked to the bed across the room from his. He laid the girl gently on the clean white sheets. “Last night in the cells?”

“What are you doing with her?” Said a little voice by the door. She was just a child and not one Kale had seen around here before. Her dark, curly hair was messy and tangled and hung limply around her face. Her brown eyes were over flowing with worry as she stared at the unconscious girl on the bed.

Keaton turned to her, his face instantly protective. “She’s going to rest here. This is Kale; he’s going to take good care of her.”

Alec, who had been leaning against the door frame snorted audibly. “This isn’t just some other girl to screw around with Kale. I’m serious.”

Kale was-or acted-uninterested. Without looking at the girl he said, “Who is she?”

“Her name is September,” said Keaton.

“And she is completely and absolutely,” Alec cut in, “none of your business.”

“When will she wake up?” The girl asked quietly. She stood timidly by the door, her red dress barely visible through the dirt that covered her from head to toe.

Keaton thought for a moment before answering. “A day-maybe two.”

She blanched. “Two days?”

“What did you do to her?” Kale couldn’t help but ask.

“Alec stuck her with teel.” Keaton’s voice was colored with disapproval.

“And then what? You kidnapped her?”

The uneasy look the brothers shared said enough.

“You’re kidding.” Kale’s jaw fell slack. “You kidnapped two girls and brought them here? Here? What were you thinking?”

“We need them some place where we can watch them,” Alec said without an ounce of contrition.

“Why?”

“It’s none of your business.” His hands were balled into fists and Kale thought best to drop it.

“How much longer are you in here for?” Keaton asked.

“Another week.”

He frowned. “I thought you were out tomorrow.”

Alec dismissed the interruption with a wave of his hand. “Whatever. Just watch her okay?”

“What do you mean, watch her?”

“You know. Make sure she doesn’t leave.”

Kale looked at September. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Good. Let’s go Keat.”

Keaton left September and went to the child. He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and smiled. “She’ll be fine I promise. You can see her again when she wakes up. Let’s go get you settled.” Keaton gently directed her out the door and Alec followed, shutting and locking it behind them.

Kale sighed and looked at the girl on the bed; she was small with dainty curves and straight light hair that spread around her heart shaped face on the pillow. Her fare skin was flawless and smooth and though her eyes were closed he could see the unusual thickness of her black lashes. She had a smooth jaw line and a little nose that pointed up at the end. Her lips were puckered into a pout and were a light pink. She was pretty, beautiful even in a way he hadn’t found beautiful on any other short, blond girls before. There was something about her-it could have been the predicament she was in-that had Kale wanting to help her. Help her with what, he wasn’t quite sure but she gave him an unusual sense of uselessness. His hands felt disturbingly empty when he realized Keaton had laid her in a very uncomfortable position that was sure to bring her aches.

Almost impulsively, he swung his legs off the bed and stood. Without his own permission, he crossed the small space to her, the floor pressing coldly on his bare feet. He stood above her, unable to repress the need to aid the girl. Perhaps it was only the way she resembled a child in her height, though he had never felt the persistent need to take care of a child.

He bent down, slipped his arm under her back and the other under her legs and lifter her. She was light as he carried her to his bed and gingerly set her down only to return her to her own bed once he drew away the blankets. He was pulling the sheets up to her shoulders when he saw a little black stone that winked at him from just below her collarbone near her shoulder. He pressed his fingers against it curiously. It was cold to the touch. When he tried to brush it aside, he found that it was imbedded in her skin, but it wasn’t a piercing.

He frowned at the little stone no bigger than his finger nail. Was this the reason Keaton and Alec needed to keep her near them?

Mystified by the jewel, he pulled the cloth of her shirt up to cover it and pulled the blankets over her shoulders. He stepped back, almost unwillingly, until the backs of his calves pressed against the bed, sat down, and waited.

Kale woke to the hum of voices out the little window and the bite of the morning air on his face. He was lying on his back and rolled his head to look at his new room mate. She hadn’t moved-of course-except the slightest wrinkle between her slim eyebrows. Perhaps he just didn’t notice that before. Her bottom lip was still jutting in a pout. She looked worried and a dull ache settled in his chest.

He was reminded of the stories his mother would tell him and Kismet when they were only children. Now, nearly twenty years old, he could still remember Kismet’s favorite tail. It was of a princess tragically cursed into a deep sleep. . .

Too loudly, the door flung open slamming the wall behind it and a new probation guard, keys in hand, stepped aside for Kismet to enter. Her long, black hair was pulled back with a ribbon at the nape of her neck.

“Still in bed?” Her voice faded when her eyes rested on the sleeping girl. She pointed at her as if Kale would not know the object of her next question without doing so. “Who is that?”

“That’s September.”

“What’s she doing here?”

Kale blinked. “She’s sleeping.”

After a moment she said, “why here?”

“Because she’s new.”

“But why here?”

Kale sat up. “Why can’t she sleep in the same cell as me Kiz?”

Kismet hesitated, her hands knotting together at her stomach. “She can it’s just-there are other cells . . .”

Kale knew his sister in a way no one else could and it was obvious to him what she was thinking. Concerned for the girl’s compromised virtue and disappointed in him - again - though she wouldn’t say so. He didn’t respond and she shrugged.

“Well,” she said lightly, trying to appear indifferent. “Wake her up and bring her to breakfast.”

He glanced at September. “Sure.”

His sister and the guard left and shut the door, but Kale knew the guard would be waiting for him outside to escort him to the dining hall. Those on probation were watched very carefully due to the Raviar’s paranoia that their people would leave The Bramillion. Any sign of disloyalty was cut out of the picture immediately.

Kale threw himself off the bed, and went to his trunk to find a fresh pare of dining clothes. Though the girl was dead asleep, he was still reluctant to change with her in the room. He did so, quickly, and wet his hair in the wash bucket that sat in one corner of the room. He pulled on his thick black coat and paused with his hand on the door handle.

 He felt slightly guilty for leaving the girl alone and considered skipping breakfast, or at least bringing the food back with him and eating in the room. Perhaps he-

And as if he had been slapped, he realized just how ridiculous he was being. How he was feeling. He had never felt guilty for a girl aside from his sister-ever-and here he was, not wanting to leave one that wouldn’t be affected at all by his absence.

September didn’t notice his presence. She didn’t care. She was far away from this life, draped in layers and layers of black unconsciousness, and would be for the next day. And though he knew nothing about her he got the distinct feeling she wouldn’t care when she was awake either. The concern on her face and the situation she was in made it clear as glass that she wouldn’t have the time to be bothered by a troubled boy like himself.

The fact nestled itself deep in his stomach like an unwelcome weight in his core and he left, slamming the door angrily behind him.

Chapter 3

~3~

A New World

“Now remember, we don’t know anything about the girls,” Keaton recited again. He sat tall on his horse, his built torso set into perfect posture.

Alec, who slouched upon his horse and couldn’t care less, looked to Keaton strangely. “Why do you keep saying that?”

He shrugged his big shoulders. “Well you know. You sorta come off as intimidating and blunt.” He paused and added as an afterthought, “And rude.”

Alec couldn’t disagree and shook his head. “But still, this isn’t my first dance. I know what I’m doing.”

Keaton grinned, exposing white teeth. “Just being thorough.”

“Just being annoying is more like it.”

Keaton laughed and shook his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes. Alec wondered, as he often did, how Keaton managed such high spirits on long, hot days such as these-especially having to deal with a brother like himself.

Salinas village was in sight now, a quaint cluster of homes gathered around the town center, in what felt like the middle of nowhere.

“I wonder where they ran to,” Keaton thought aloud and glanced around as if expecting to see the young girls somewhere across the valley.

“Bruntwall isn’t far from here. Half a days trip maybe.”

“Let’s hope they’re smart enough than to run to a neighboring town. Word travels fast and witch craft,” he framed the term with sarcastic air quotes. “Is punishable in any city.”

“Let’s hope,” Alec agreed.

The village was made up of perhaps forty wooden cottages and a town center-where the brothers arrived when the sun was in the middle of the sky. It held several booths where the inhabitants had set up their goods for trading. Meat, dishes, blankets, furniture. On one end sat a poorly made corral that held a few lazy horses, on the other end was a white church house. Its point rose barely higher than the church itself. In the center of it all were two thick wooden posts set in the shape of a cross standing in the middle of a fire pit. The wood was blackened, fresh ash heaped around it.

The two exchanged uneasy looks. A burning, leaving no part of the body in tact, was usually the punishment for witches.

It wasn’t easy-striking conversations with the tense villagers-but finally, Keaton managed to interest two pretty girls, almost his age.

“We’re just traveling back from Oakland,” He said with a benevolent smile. “Wicked people in that city, let me tell you.”

Alec sighed on his horse impatiently, thumping his fingers on the saddle in no particular rhythm. He failed to notice how one of the girls had been watching him since Keaton approached them. There was something different about him that excited her, though she couldn’t quite place it.  Something she’d never seen in any other boy before-something dangerously intriguing.

“Well did you hear what happened here just yesterday?” The slender one said, eyes bright.

“Of course they didn’t Cate,” The other cut in. “It’s only been just a day.”

Alec suppressed a smile. If only they knew just how word spread like wild fire. Keaton and Alec had already heard the story they were about to hear again from a traveler on the road just this morning. Lucky for them, Salinas was on the way.

Cate ignored her and went on. “A family was accused of witchcraft! The little girl, only twelve years old, charred Coren’s arm clean off!”

“What?” The brothers said simultaneously. Alec leaned closer, finally interested. They hadn’t heard that from the traveler.

Cate nodded and an older woman shot them a dark look from one of the booths. “Caitlin Rose!” She hollered and the boys regained their composure. “I’ll not have you talking to strangers on the road!”

“I’m just telling them about the Astraky’s!” She yelled back a bit louder than necessary.

The lady shook her head with a disgusted sneer. “You mind your own business. Nothing but trouble and curses come from speaking of Lucifer’s children.”

Alec pressed his lips in a firm line to keep himself from retorting at the woman. Lucifer’s children. He rolled his eyes.

“You go home now and help with the chores!”

“If you really want to hear about it,” Cate whispered. “Go to the church; that’s where Coren lives.”

Keaton waited till the girls were out of ear shot and rose on eyebrow. “Lucifer’s children?”

Alec snorted. “Can we just hurry so we can get back? The Raviar is probably wondering what’s taking us so long.”

They left their horses in the corral and crossed the busy square to the church. Alec took the three steps in one leap; his heavy sword that hung from a sheath at his hip slapped his thigh familiarly. He opened the door without permission. Keaton followed reluctantly, shutting it quietly behind him.

Inside, the church was bigger than it looked. Rows of hard benches lined the middle of the room all the way to the elevated platform that held a wooden pulpit. Tall windows stood on either side, shedding white light through the empty church.

“Nobody’s here,” Keaton pointed out.

Alec’s eyes narrowed at the door set in the wall behind the altar, and he strutted through to the end, Keaton following behind him.

Keaton stepped ahead of Alec this time, and knocked. He saw the look Alec gave him and said, “It’s called privacy, a luxury some people enjoy.”

The door swung open then and the most gut wrenching smell smacked Keaton like a kick to the stomach, making his head spin. It chilled him down to his bones. He shivered as the hair stood erect on the back of his neck.

A tall, thin man stood in the doorway. A patient smile stretched his lips. “May I help you with something?”

The floor tilted beneath Keaton’s feet and he caught the door frame to steady himself. Both Alec and the man looked at him questioningly.

Alec’s concern didn’t last long once he saw the mans arm-or lack thereof. His forearm, along with his hand and fingers, were missing. A white bandage stained with dried blood wrapped around the end of his arm-or what could be called his elbow.

Alec gaped and the man noticed. Keaton wanted to shake his head disapprovingly, but refrained in fear of hurling with the movement.

“My arm,” he said. “is evidence of the evil that resides in this new world boys.”

“Coren,” Alec acknowledged.

He nodded once. “And you are . . .?”

Alec ignored the question. “What happened to you?”

Coren looked as if he wanted to smile, but was too tired. There were purple circles below his eyes from lack of sleep, his shoulders sagged. “Please.” He gestured to the benches. “Let’s sit and talk.” Coren looked to Keaton again and as he stepped between them to sit on the first bench he said, “Are you alright?”

Keaton took a thin breath through his mouth and steadied himself before following them to the bench. “I’ll be fine.”

“What happened?” Alec asked again, staring at Coren’s arm.

He let out a dramatically long sigh. “We had the misfortune of living amongst witches.”

Alec set his jaw tight and waited for the story, but Coren didn’t continue. He looked into his lap with a mask of sorrow. It was all Alec could do to not beat the story out of the guy. Situations like these are where his brother came in handy.

“Did you?” Keaton feigned enthusiasm best he could while holding his breath. The smell seemed to be coming off the man. Could it have been his rotting arm perhaps? “We’d like to hear the story.”

“It was the younger of the two girls, Sky. She fell on my church steps and I was trying to help her up. As soon as I grabbed onto her wrist, she stared at it like it was a piece of meat and started whispering something-almost like a chant. And right then, my arm just burnt straight to my elbow. There wasn’t any fire-only steam and ash-but you can bet it hurt like fire.” His eyes were wide with the story he recited like he was reading from a script. He shook his head. “We tried to find that little devil child, but she and her sister were being hid by their mother. She helped them escape-I know it - and I knew she was a witch too.” Coren’s eyes gleamed with grim satisfaction. “We burnt her up right on the cross just outside. That family won’t be terrorizing this village anymore. I’ve sent word to Bruntwall and Harler, but there hasn’t been any sign of them. But you can bet I will find them. I’m going to hunt them down and send them back to hell with their wretched mother.”

Keaton’s heart swelled with sympathy for the girls.

“You believe in God then?” Alec said glancing around the church. “In Heaven and Hell?”

Coren blinked. “Of course I do.”

“Interesting that God let that happen to you. I don’t know much about religion but I’ve heard enough to know that God is supposed to protect people like you. Isn’t he?”

He was taken aback by the acid in Alec’s tone and the mocking look in his eyes. “You don’t believe in him, I take it.”

He laughed once-a humorless, cruel laugh. “If there were a God, liars like you wouldn’t exist and this world wouldn’t have gone to-”

Keaton-who just barely pulled himself out of his fight to keep from passing out- finally heard Alec’s words and bumped him in the shoulder to keep him from finishing his bitter tirade.

“Liars like me?” Coren said, appalled. Keaton saw something else in his eyes. Fear. Fear of being exposed. Keaton didn’t believe him, though he wasn’t going to say so. Of course, Alec on the other hand, didn’t see the need for a polite filter that the rest of the world did.

Alec cocked a brow, challenging Coren to deny it.

“We should leave,” Keaton interjected and hauled himself unsteadily to his feat.

“Yes,” Coren nodded without looking at Alec. “Perhaps you should.”

“Thank you for letting us hear your story.” Keaton held out his right hand. Coren looked at it awkwardly and Alec laughed. Having forgotten Coren’s absence of his right arm, he dropped his hand quickly and looked at the floor embarrassed.

“Well good luck with your arm,” said Alec with a hint of amusement as he stood. “And the whole God thing.”

Keaton ran a tired hand over his face and turned towards Coren as Alec left. “I’m sorry about what happened to you. And that those witches got away,” he lied and turned to follow his brother.

“Don’t you worry,” Coren called after them. “I’ll find them and I’ll burn their bones to ash.”

As soon as the doors shut behind Keaton, he took a gasp of fresh air. His head swayed slightly as the blood returned to his face. He thankfully took in gulps of air that smelt of dirt and people as they made their way through the crowds to the corral.

“What was wrong with you in there?” Asked Alec as they mounted their patient horses.

“That smell.” he didn’t quite know what had happened, but it was an inhumanly grotesque stench that caused it. “Didn’t you smell it?”

Alec looked to his brother as if he questioned his sanity. “The smell of a liar? Yeah I smelled it.”

Keaton sighed but let it drop.

“So apparently no sign of them in Bruntwall or Harler.” Alec was back to business. “Which house do you think is theirs?”

Keaton pursed his lips, trying to forget the smell and his eyes ran over the little houses.

“Hey kid.” Alec had stopped a little blond boy who was following a group of children his age. He paused to look at Alec hesitantly. “Where did the Astraky’s live?”

The boy pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Why do you want to know? We’re not allowed to go there. It’s cursed.”

“Curses don’t exist,” Alec said. “Where is it?”

The boy looked down a worn path lined on both sides with homes. “It’s the one way down that road with purple flowers under the windows. It’s on the right and it has a big garden in the back.”

All the shutters were closed. It gave the home a vacant look, regardless of the window boxes smashed with purple, flowers.  The door hung open and when they were off their horses and nearing the doorway, they could see all the dirt and dead leaves that had blown in since last night. The noises from the town seemed to fade when they entered, leaving them in an unnerving silence with only the sounds of their slow foot steps on the wooden floor. The front room was the kitchen, one half-empty cup still on the table and cupboards hung open. The wash area was tidy, clean dishes and wash rags in their places. They passed though the room to the open door on the back wall: it was the bedroom. There was one small bed that had been over turned and the headboard was in pieces around it. There was another bed in the corner made big enough for two. A large oak wardrobe stood with its doors flung open and its contents astray.

Alec walked to the back shutters and pushed them open. There was the big garden out back, sprouting little heads of green in orderly rows. The window seal was scuffed and shallow scratches marked the sides. He placed his dirty fingernails on the lines and traced the scars in the wood. This was how they escaped, he thought. Why hadn’t their mom gone with them? Hadn’t she tried to get away too?

Keaton was transfixed on the tiny, wooden trinkets set up on the nightstand; crudely carved horses and people that stood upright. The paint that once made up their faces was chipped and dirty. Children’s toys. He didn’t want to imagine what this scene would have been like.

“Keat.” Alec stood quietly behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

Keaton nodded and shoved a few of the smooth toys into his pocket. Alec didn’t say anything, though he wanted to pry. If Keaton could put up with his attitude then he could put up with Keaton’s different view of the world. Keaton was the only person on the planet that deserved privacy from Alec. He had earned it.

Their boots were clunking against the wood of the kitchen before Keaton spoke. “We have to find them Alec. Before they do.”

* * *

 “September.”

I heard Sky, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer. I couldn’t bring myself to move. Her arms tightened around my hollow stomach and I came to the disorienting realization that we were lying down on the cold dirt.

There hadn’t been a shed of light since we were down here, though I was certain we were in the hole for more than a night. It was dark, and silent, and cold.

Sky cleared her throat. “September?”

The fear that tinted her scratchy voice pulled me from my absent state. I tried to speak, but only a rasp came from my aching throat. I cleared it and replied. “What?” That was all I could think to say.

She sniffed and I could feel the tears slip from her eyes to my sleeve. She was lying on my shoulder. “What are we going to do?”

The answer evaded me. My mind was blank as I stared into the pitch black that was our hiding place. My eyes felt swollen.

“September?”

“I don’t know.”

There was a short silence and she sniffed again. Somewhere, deep in the recesses of my thoughts I heard Mom’s voice.

Promise me that you will take care of each other. Always.

Tears stung the back of my eyes. I had promised her I would take care of my sister. It’s what she wanted. I was suddenly very aware of Sky’s little body curled in against my side. Her arms around my stomach. Her tears soaking my shirt. She was so fragile and she needed my help. I promised.

I coughed dryly once and made sure all sounds of despair were gone from my voice before I spoke. I would be strong for her.

“We have to leave.” My heart shrunk at the thought of leaving home. The place where we had grown up.

It was a minute before she spoke. “Leave where?”

“We’ll find a place.” I was assuring her as well as myself. I untangled from her and slowly we got to our feet. I stretched, reaching for the ceiling. Knots and kinks slid from my sore muscles. Sky groaned quietly as she did the same.

“What time do you think it is?” She asked lowly.

I didn’t answer. Instead, I slid my hands along the ceiling until I found the grooves of the door. Slowly, I pressed my fingers against it until it came open just an inch. It was heavier than I remembered and no light came through the crack.

“It’s night,” I declared.

“Or the rug is blocking the light.”

That was why the door was so heavy. I had forgotten about the rug completely. “Maybe.”

I pushed it with more force, but the rug made it difficult to open. It pressed against me, keeping us in the little hole and a flutter of panic rose to my throat. What if I couldn’t get us out? I swallowed hard and held the door up with one hand, reaching out of the crack for the carpet with the other. I got a grip on it and yanked it several times, grabbing at the heavy folds, until it slid off the door. I exhaled a sigh of relief.

“It is night,” Sky said from beside me. It was still pitch black.

I let the door shut again. “We have to be very quiet,” I told her. “We’re going to get our bags from the bedroom and pack okay? Pack your clothes and a blanket first, and then we’ll pack food and leave out the back window. Alright?”

“Okay,” she breathed and I opened the door, wincing when it hit the wood of the kitchen floor. I crawled out of the hole and pulled her out after. Though the kitchen was dark, the bedroom shutters were open and moonlight bleached everything in the room a luminous white.

“I could have sworn I closed those,” I whispered more to myself than Sky when I saw the open window. 

It was clear that the house had been searched for us and we packed silently, taking only a few changes of clothes and one blanket for each of us. I moved to the dark kitchen while Sky finished in the bedroom. I felt my way to the cupboards and emptied them, stuffing the contents into my bag.

“September,” she whispered. I tied my bag shut and looked to see her silhouette standing in the doorway. “Some of my toys are gone.”

I dismissed it with a wave of my hand. “We don’t have room to pack toys anyways Sky. Come here.”

I found the canteens we used when we traveled-which was a rare occasion after my dad died. When he was alive, we made frequent trips to Foster City. I shoved the canteens in her bag and tied it shut.

“You ready?”

I saw the dark shape of her shoulders shake and she nodded quickly. I swallowed the impending sobs back and ruffled her hair.

“We’re going to be fine Sky,” I lied lightly. “We’ll figure this out. Don’t worry.”

She nodded again and wrapped her arms around me. I sighed and hugged her close, letting a few tears escape from my eyes.

We climbed out the back window and filled all three canteens from the well behind our garden. We picked a few ripe vegetables from the soil and stuffed them in our already too full bags.

The Trystone woods were visible from our backyard, a wide, smudgy shadow splotched against the dark blue sky. We would stay off the roads and travel to Foster City through the woods.

I looked back through the window one more time: at the big bed Mom and Sky had shared. The wooden walls decorated with foreign objects my mom had bought at gypsy markets. The black doorway to our kitchen, where we spent every single night together at the table for as long as I can remember.

Silent tears swelled my eyes, blurring my vision. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to curl up in my bed and sleep. I wanted to wake up to Mom telling my I’d slept too long. I wanted to be annoyed with her when she lectured me.

Instead, I wiped my eyes and we turned our backs on everything we had ever known and walked straight into a lonely and unfamiliar new world.

* * *

“I think we’ll be okay here,” I panted after nearly tripping over a rotting log. “We’ve come far enough.”

We had been picking through the merciless terrain of the Trystone woods for what felt like an hour now. Little moonlight filtered through the trees, making it impossible to see the thick ferns and scraping twigs in our path. The ancient trees seemed to moan at our unwelcome presence when we came to a little clearing.

“We can sleep here,” I said and took a small gulp from my canteen.

“Good,” Sky breathed and shrugged the bag off her shoulders and onto the dirt. “I’m so tired.”

We fixed our beds there in the forest on the damp earth and I couldn’t help but to feel sorry for myself. Sky picked an apple out of her bag and crunched into it. She lay on her back, her eyes half closed.

My stomach twisted with the pain of hunger that I had ignored before. I sat on my blanket and found a roll of bread. I ate the whole thing, but found myself hungry still. I tried to shove the thought away and laid down; we didn’t have enough food to eat more than a little bit each night.

I looked at Sky. She was wrapped in her blanket so close to me and looking right back. Her eyes were glistening with fresh tears that ran down her round cheeks. The sight brought tears of my own and I put an arm around her. She curled into me and cried into my chest while my tears soaked her hair.

She was all I had left, the only reason my heart still hung on by just a thread. She shivered and I pulled my blanket over her as much as it would go. Eventually, her sobs subsided and her breathing was heavy with sleep. I watched the rise and fall of her breaths. Brushed away the wet curls that clung to her face. Her lower lip poked out and her eyebrows still held the pain of loss, even in sleep. Seeing her so broken brought on more pain. I could feel it in my stomach, a sick weight nestled in my core. I buried my face in her soft hair, and prayed for unconsciousness.