Page 64 of Into the Heartless Wood
“Owen.”
He looks at me
and I
ache.
“I must tell you something. But then you must promise to go home. It is no longer safe here. I cannot protect you.”
A vein pulses in his temple.
He takes a breath.
He does not promise.
“Tell me.”
“I remember your mother.”
His whole body stiffens and stills.
His eyes go wild.
“My mother took her as a slave. Bound her to the heartless tree.”
He struggles to be still. He gulps air. “What does that mean? Why are you telling me this?”
The wind is angry. It lashes over the hill. “It is right that you know. I did not wish to keep it from you.”
“Are you—are you saying she’s still alive?”
I do not know how to answer.
“Seren.” His voice cracks. “Is she alive?”
“She belongs to my mother. Her soul is gone—she is nothing more than an empty shell.”
His jaw tenses. “How can she exist, without a soul?”
The question is a thorn,
hot and sharp beneath my skin.
“Iexist.”
Wind rages between us, spitting leaves into Owen’s hair.
He stares at me.
I say: “You must go home now. Before my sisters come to hunt you.”
He says: “Take me to her.”
I peer at him. I am puzzled.
“Take me to my mother.”
“Why? You cannot save her. You cannot free her. She is gone.”
