Rem looked down at the braid on her shoulder, sneering at the pale hair. She couldn't decide if it was made better or worse that the shade was quite beautiful. There was a slight warmth to it, like it was the palest of blondes.
But it was foreign, and it marked her.
"Again, that's easy to say. How can we possibly fight this? I need to leave. I don't know where I'll go, but I can't stay here... Maybe I can go south, closer to the hunters."
Her mother straightened her legs over the wooden stairs, exposing her calves underneath the fabric of her dress. Her tone dropped, steadying. "If it makes you feel better, the witches will discuss options over the next few days. They have even sent Ural to the hunters. I mean, I know I don’t trust those witches, but it’ssomething."
Rem didn't nod, but she didn't protest either. A few days still felt too long. Ural was the pet hawk of their Coveness, bewitched to carry any message to any location, able to fly with no need for a break. Sometimes, he could reach the hunters in the deep south within three days, whereas the journey took a month on foot, maybe less with a strong horse and good weather.
How was Rem supposed to wait nearly a week for the bird to return? The hunters in the south were a thousand miles away.
"Did the witches at leasttryto stop the other Silver from being taken? And what village was it?"
"Dunshire. And I don't know. We didn't hear that part," her mother replied, still not looking at Rem. If Rem weren't so distraught, she might have paid closer to attention to how it seemed that her mother wanted to say more but consistently hesitated.
The crisp wind of the early morning pulled at the loose strands of her mother's hair, who finally met Rem's gaze. She squinted, the sun in her eyes as it peaked through the porch roof—a fire burned in that worn gaze that mirrored her late gran.
"I’m not giving up so easily, Remara. Imeanit. Look, the reason I didn't say anything right away is because... Because, well, I think... I don't know; maybe we might run for it."
"What?" Rem muttered. Her heart raced faster, if such a thing were possible.
Her mother spoke quickly, like it was a theory she was willing to bet on, but no one could know of. "This has to stay between us, alright? Look, I believe the hunters will shelter you, but they're an entire month's ride away. Waiting simply isn’t an option. If those shifters managed their way into Dunshire, then what stops them from getting into here?
“So, what if we left and went for the huntersourselves? This family has always talked about getting out of this village. What if we take advantage of this and go south, meet the hunters halfway? Your father and I discussed it, and he’s willing to leave as soon as possible. He's spending today readying the apothecary so it can be portable on carriage, just in case."
Rem's eyes widened, adrenaline burning her veins. As if in slight shock, she mumbled, "The witches... They'd catch us. No one leaves without permission... Plus, you can't do that. Can your back even handle such a ride?"
Her mother gave Rem a stolid, single nod, raising a playful brow. "I'm notthatold. I mean, I feel like I am, but I can do it, for you. Life here is too boring, anyways. I could use the thrill." The humor slowly dropped from her voice. "You're in your early twenties, my daughter. You have too much to live for, and so does your brother... I can't leave this to chance. You know we don't trust these witches. They are possessive and prideful... Yet the rumors suggest the shifters come and go without injury, and the witches here won't talk to us. Which I don't buy, as they must knowsomething. So, we have to plan on our own. We have an idea to cause a distraction, and then we flee in the night."
"What if it fails? What if something goes horribly wrong and someone gets hurt?"
"That's neither here nor there," her mother grimly replied, her voice shaking, her eyes resolute. "It sounds like the shifters are coming for you, no matter what. You want an answer what your gran would say about the rumors? Well, I know she'd already have your bags packed with weapons, medical kits, maps, and anything else she has in her possession to see you to safety. I must do the same."
A chill of hopeful victory swept over Rem—sharp movements stole their attention. Fear placed her on high alert, her mind filling in the gaps that perhaps the shifters had already come for her, but she quickly saw that it was just their cat running around, her ten-year-old brother Oliver hot on its tail.
"Give it back, Tobin!" he yelled.
The cat carried the tiny bear their grandmother had made for him. Rem’s laugh bitterly turned into a twitching frown. A wave of premature nostalgia hit her, understanding that these moments were likely some of her last of home. If the shifters came, who knew what that would entail. If she went to the hunters, who knew how long she'd be gone for.
And while they had discussed leaving the village many times, this was the first time it felt real. Freedom did not exist living underneath the witches—not like it had in thebeforetimes—and the journey south was long and arduous. What if it was the wrong choice? Was this worth risking everyone’s lives?
Her mother placed a reassuring hand on Rem’s back.
They both laughed when Oliver wrangled his bear from their cat, giving the feline a good scolding.
It was the relief they needed.
Perhaps their worries truly stemmed from the fact that for centuries, the pendulum of power remained on the side of humanity. Now, it swung so hard into the favor of those who could use magic that the pendulum appeared to have broken. No human was safe.
The forests had changed. The shifters hollowed out mountains to house their packs within. Dire creatures decimated villages. Humanity, if it desired to live in its own shadow, was forced into southern California and Texas, where the weather wasn't favorable for paranormals. Hunters built their worlds out there, although dark magic followed and haunted them in different, but more manageable, ways.
Nowhere seemed to be safe forpeople, except to live underneath the control of witches.
The mother and daughter shared another chuckle as Oliver tried to place his bear on the ground, only for the tabby cat to paw at it in a surprise attack.
With a stronger voice, her mother said, "We will get through this. We must be strong. Oliver, I am sure, will be happy to go. He always talks about joining the hunters when he's old enough. My mother was renowned in her days for being a woman that bowed to no one, and we are her daughter and granddaughter. For that, no one will have the final say in our fate. Not these shifters, and not these witches."
Those words struck her heart deeply, and Rem knew that she could honor that. Her gran was as worldly as a notorious hunter, settling in their village to run an apothecary, with Rem's father now taking up his late mother-in-law's business. That woman had spent years traveling and learning of plants and remedies of the world, along with how to avoid and fight off the dangers within.The stories that woman could tell...always limited, because of the witches listening…
