Rob finished his circuit of the house, and he and Father discussed the land in hushed, unhopeful tones. I rolled my sleeves back and set to cleaning the thick dust of disuse from every crevice of the cottage. Reluctantly, Callista joined me.
Astra sat outside.
When the layered grime turned the curves of my fingernails black, I smiled. “There’s enough dirt in this cottage to conceal a fortune greater than what Father lost. Let us hope we find it before the mice do.”
Callista said, “Always so whimsical, Beauty.”
It was not a compliment. It never was.
I held my teeth tight.
The house was easy enough to get in order. The land was another matter entirely. The forest had grown wild, reaching with greedy rooted fingers through every bit of land that might have otherwise been planted. Saplings and bushes could be cleared, but the network of roots in the soil was more insidious than any growth had a right to be.
“It’s an enchanted forest,” Callista said, peering out of the tiny kitchen window while Father and Rob were in town trying to barter for help with the clearing. “I’ve heard stories.”
“Like what?” I shrugged. “Men poisoned by enchanted berries? They were simply too unintelligent to sort ivy from elder.”
“Then I dare you to cut a tree!”
“I will.”
But when I hefted the axe, weighty and unbalanced in my hands, she rushed to stop me. “No, Beauty, don’t. I think it’s truly enchanted. Mrs. Halcomb once told me all the working classes refuse to hunt in this stretch of woods, and Rob said he saw something disappear between the trees.”
“A fox, probably. Or a bear.” Hopefully a bear. I knew nothing of bears, but there could be no better time for an introduction.
I gripped the axe with both hands and made for the door.
When Callista protested again, Astra said, “Let her go. Beautyaccomplishesthings. Perhaps she’ll clear the whole forest before Father returns.”
I smiled. “Perhaps you’ll water the whole land with your tears, and rather than tree roots, we’ll have a backyard ocean to clear.”
As the door swung closed behind me, I heard Callista assure Astra that I didn’t mean it, that I only liked to debate, like my instructors had taught me. Don’t listen to Beauty; she’s whimsical. She chases hypotheticals. She invents things. Don’t believe a word. Not a word.
My dirty fingernails nearly left curved half-moons in the hardened axe handle.
I strode directly into the forest and stood beneath its black trees. We surveyed each other, shadow recognizing shadow. The trees here grew thick and tall as giants, humped roots breaking the soil at every base, branches reaching interlocking fingers to each neighboring tree, the entire forest knitted in one quilt to filter the sun.
But there was no bear.
I pressed my hand to a tree’s bark, my pointer finger sinking entirely into a rut in the wood. It could suck me in and leave no trace. Suddenly, the tree felt hot to the touch, burning with the same fire that blazed in my belly.
I yanked my hand back. Then I hefted my axe high, brought it down with the movement Rob had taught me, and sank the blade into an exposed root. Nearly half the head buried! Rob would be proud.
Freeing it again was not so easy. I had to pump the handle, twist this way and that. Once I finally leveraged it free, I stared down at the wound I’d inflicted, at the sliver of pale, vulnerable wood exposed beneath its covering shell of brown bark.
I dropped the axe and covered my mouth, biting my thumb until the pain in my knuckle was all I could feel, until its white-hot flare drowned whatever was inside me.
“I didn’t mean it,” I whispered, crouching to touch the root. I covered the cut with my hand, but I could still see the peek of vulnerability between my fingers. Scrambling to retrieve the axe, I used it to hack a strip of linen off the bottom of my dress, nicking my calf in the process. A single drop of blood slid down the curve of my shin bone. I ignored it. With slow movements, I wrapped the root, concealing the tree’s wound carefully from edge to edge.
I was a fool. I could only imagine what my family would say about bandaging a plant; they would certainly see it while clearing the land.
Nevertheless, I secured the makeshift bandage with a gentle knot.
When I looked up, a pair of blue fairy eyes looked back.
I started, and in that blink, she vanished, only a faint shimmer in the air to confirm her passing.
After a moment, I gathered my senses and left the forest. The walk back seemed somehow a longer trek than I remembered making initially, and when I arrived home, Father and Rob had returned. They and my sisters were gathered in the yard, staring in wonder at the soil. Help would not be needed after all, because every root, sapling, and bush had vanished, just as the fairy. The land was ready for tilling.
