Page 138 of Into the Heartless Wood
My other sisters spit in my face.
They order the briars to squeeze tighter.
They shove berries down my throat that are poisonous to humans.
They make me drink brackish water.
They laugh and laugh.
Because none of these things can kill me in this monstrous form.
And our mother will not let me die.
Not yet.
The sister with thistles in her hair says: “You are weak, little sister. You are foolish and reckless andweak.”
The sister with celandine adds: “Ahuman boy! All this, for ahuman boy!”
They run out of ways to torment me. They grow tired of their fun. They fade back into the wood.
All but the sister with roses in her hair. She says: “I told you to run. I told you to run far and fast away, but you lingered. For a worthless boy.”
Dust motes dance
in a shaft of sunlight.
Bees drink nectar from her roses.
I say: “He is not worthless.”
She sneers: “Do you think he will come andsaveyou?”
My heart beats
sluggish,
slow,
heavy with emptiness,
glutted with pain. “No. But you could.”
She blinks at me. “I helped you once before. I will not degrade myself that way again.”
“Then why are you still standing here?”
The wood shivers around us, every leaf listening.
I say: “Let me loose. Come away with me. Help me find a way to defeat our mother.”
“There is no defeating her.”
“You know she is evil. You know she is cruel. We can stop her together. We can become something more.”
“Human?” she mocks me.
“Perhaps.” It is hard to breathe and hard to speak; my sisters bound the briars too tight.
