Page 154 of Into the Heartless Wood
A shattered orb.
It glimmers in the ashes,
in the rain that drips
through dead trees.
It is jagged and sharp.
It shines like he does.
It shines like Owen.
I am so afraid that he is gone.
That this is the place
where he died,
and I cannot bear it.
My mother spits: “He will pay. For the death of my daughter. For stealing the song I gave the rest of them.”
I understand. Somehow, the Eater slew my sister to silence our song.
He has robbed me
of my voice,
as my mother has robbed me
of my will.
There is nothing left to me
that is my own.
There is no part of me
that does not belong to someone else.
My mother hisses. The heartless lion leaps once more into motion.
We pass through the ashes of the wood, out onto a grassy plain.
Rain sluices off my face and my body as I run behind them.
Saplings sprout up every place my foot touches, the wood growing and growing. Unstoppable.
It is her power, flowing through me.
I can still feel
the prints of her fingers
like bands of iron
around my heart.
