Page 42 of Into the Heartless Wood
Chapter Twenty-Two
SEREN
RAIN DRIPS COLD
between the thrashing trees.
My oldest sister stands among them,
the sister with
roses in her hair.
The boy’s telescope is in her hands.
She looks at me as she bends it,
as she snaps it like bone.
She flings the pieces behind her
into the dark.
“The wood has been telling tales, little sister.”
She strides toward me.
She stops a leaf’s width away.
Her breath is cool on my face. “Did you think the trees would not tell that you brought a boy into the wood? A boy whose soul you did not claim for our mother?”
Her fingers close around
the empty orb at my neck.
She smells of roses,
of fear.
“Your disobedience has not gone unnoticed. Do not dare to believe you are safe from our mother, that you are free to do as you please, like our brothers once presumed. They were not. You are not.”
She lets go of the orb.
It settles hard
in the hollow
of my throat.
Rain seeps through the thread of air
that divides us.
I say: “Why are you here? I do not want you.”
She says: “I am here to save you, little fool. Come, we have work to do.”
She snatches my hand.
