Greer,
I hope that one day these words will make their way to you. I hope they bring you comfort. I pray they do not cause grief. I have ventured off into the northern wilds to serve as a sacrifice for the Benevolence. I do this for the town, yes. For the people of Mistaken, certainly. Butmore than anything, I’m doing it for you. The Stewards have explained everything to me, the way the pact with the Benevolence was formed, what they expect of us, and all the terrible dangers that can come when our side of the bargain is not met. Don’t mourn me, Greer. I go willingly. I go for you. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy and loved and safe. You’ve always had my heart. Now you’ll have my protection, too.
I’m leaving this here because I know you well enough to be certain you’ll come looking for me. I want you to find and read these words, and then I want you to turn around and go home. Don’t try to save me from my decision. It was freely made, freely given.
I’ve written this on a map to show that, though it might feel as though we’re worlds apart, here on this paper it’s only a matter of inches, just the spread of a hand. I take comfort in imagining that I will be able to hold out my hand and feel yours reaching, too.
Be happy, Greer, and, please, after you read this, forget me. Forget me and live the best life you can. For both of us.
Ellis
Hot tears welled in Greer’s eyes but fell cold, freezing in the icy air and sobering her thoughts. She read through the letter once again, then a third time, trying to lessen the sting of his words with repetition.
He didn’t want her going after him. He told her to turn tail and go home. Told her to forget him. As if that would be so easy. As if she could simply choose to exist without her other half.
“I can’t, Ellis.” Her whispered breath steamed around her in the frosty air. “I can’t forget. I will never give up. I’m coming for you.”
She turned her attention toward the map, squinting as she tried to place where she was now. Mistaken was in the lowlands, sandwiched between the Great Bay and the start of the Severing Mountains. Their elevation rose gently at first, then by leaps and bounds.
Worry quickened within her. If Ellis was headed into the mountains, it would be nearly impossible to follow him. She had no snowshoes, no ropes, no spikes for her boots. Could she catch up with him before he ventured past the foothills?
On a good day—traveling through areas of the forest that she knew—Greer could cover twenty thousand paces, if she leftMistaken’s border the moment the sun rose and slipped over it again just seconds before Third Bellows sounded. But Ellis did not often go on these expeditions with her. Ellis would not know these woods. He would be moving slower, searching for the best path, drawn toward…what exactly?
She thought of the great black-and-white geese that flew overheard with the changing of seasons. Even before experiencing a migration, they were pulled south, following an urge, ancient and unescapable. Did Ellis feel that now, that tug toward the Benevolence?
She took out the compass and looked into the darkness where the red arrow pointed. Ellis had said only a matter of inches separated them. Wistfully, she reached out her hand, wishing it was that easy. Greer squeezed her eyes shut and imagined his hand stretching to hold hers, too.
For one wondrous moment, it felt as if fingers wrapped around hers, as warm and big and enveloping as Ellis Beaufort’s heart, and Greer sobbed, knowing it was only her imagination.
“Ellis?” she dared to ask anyway, and tightened her grip, wanting to hold on to this phantom trace of him forever.
Horrifyingly, the fingers around hers squeezed back.
With a gasp, Greer’s eyes flashed open, but her hand was as empty as the sky above.
21
Greer woke toa world of blinding white.
Snow had fallen as she slept, nestled away in her layers of wool and pine boughs. The fire had gone out, doused by either the falling flakes or Greer’s inattention.
She sat up, muscles aching in protest.
She needed to get the fire going again.
She needed to eat.
She desperately needed to relieve herself.
Stumbling from her makeshift bed, Greer found a spot downhill and squatted.
The clouds had cleared after dropping their inconvenient drifts, and the sky was a soft silver, heralding the approach of a new day. The snow wasn’t particularly deep, but it covered every trace of Ellis and would make tracking him nearly impossible. She considered it a small favor that the snow would make it just as hard for Hessel to follow her.
If he was following.
If he hadn’t thoroughly washed his hands of her after yesterday.
After the scream.
