A Whisper in the Woods (Fated Folktales #1)

4. Chapter 4

Chapter four

Leena

T he crowd parted as I walked toward the forest. Most of the village had gathered at the edge of town to see me off. Just yesterday, half the village didn’t believe the legends of the Leshy were true, but now, everyone seemed convinced. One word from Ms. Tomlin, and the myth was revealed as fact. I wouldn’t have believed in him myself if I didn’t trust my grandmother so much. I knew that whatever lay out there—whoever I was being sent to—wasn’t mortal and was nothing but a monster.

Children peeked through the crowd, yelling questions at their mothers, wondering what I was wondering most: where I was going and what was going to happen to me. Almost everyone in the crowd was speaking to each other in intrigued horror, maybe even excitement.

A trail of murmured whispers followed me, colder than the new autumn chill against my exposed skin. The wind whipped against my hair and made it even harder to breathe. The too-tight dress was impractical. A strong enough breeze might blow me over if I let it. I kept my spine stiff, my chin high, and stepped closer to that dark line where the trees welcomed me like an old nightmare. Where the first part of my life ended and the end of my life began.

I could be dead by nightfall. This would likely be the last I saw of any of them, but leaving the village in such a state without a single person stepping in to help made it a whole lot easier. Before sending me out the door, Ms. Tomlin told me not to come back until I fulfilled my mission. She hadn’t spoken of much else while she got me ready, other than humming the song I had to play and instructing me to use any womanly wiles I could to appeal to him. I couldn’t help feeling like there was something she wasn’t saying.

The cold air bit at my shoulders and back, skating across the exposed portion of my chest. The silk dress draped across my bodice like red froth over a tightly laced corset; it pushed everything up in a way that made the display all the more humiliating. I especially wanted to sink into the ground when I spotted Casimir, whose eyes were latched onto my body like I was a piece of gourmet meat.

The skirts swished along the forest floor, a long train falling behind me like a trail of fresh blood. It matched the lip paint Ms. Tomlin had brushed onto my mouth not two hours earlier, complete with rouge and thick kohl along my lashes.

I was being served up like a truffle on a crimson platter.

Just this morning, the only thing I was worried about was the decision between killing an innocent creature for food or suffering my uncle’s wrath. I never would have suspected that my failure would lead to me swishing through town in a gaudy, blood-colored gown made of silk, tulle, and an overabundance of lace.

Rationally, I shouldn’t have been upset that this all happened so fast—that there was no ceremony or anything of the sort—but I couldn’t help feeling that this rushed, last-minute display was just further proof that I meant nothing to these people. That I was disposable.

A piece of meat.

A tool.

A sacrifice.

If it wasn’t for my grandmother and those who were either voiceless victims like me or children with no one else to protect them, nothing would stop me from running.

Whispers buzzed around me like flies on a carcass. I’d never done anything to these people, but here they were, gladly sacrificing me to the creature who’d likely been terrorizing us for weeks. Selfishness and pride seemed to be my village’s biggest vice. A common trait of humanity, I supposed. An unfortunate trait that was hard to escape. I wasn’t sure if I’d met many selfless people, but it was clear that few resided here.

My eyes flickered to the town’s exit. The place I was so eager to escape from was now a dark maw, ready to devour me whole. To “speak” to the monster of the woods. To appeal to him by any means necessary.

I’d never heard of the Leshy until the disappearances started, but every villager outside of ours had apparently spat at Ms. Tomlin that we were fools to settle here. Of course, that piece of information had been hidden until everything started happening. Then, whoever must have witnessed it let it spill that there’d been warnings. Now here we were with no resources or strength to settle anywhere else and with sacrifice as our only option for survival.

“Don’t forget this, love.” Ms. Tomlin pushed the wooden instrument into my hand. The fiddle was crafted of fine wood—much better than the one my father had made for me when I was a child. I’d never exchange the two, but Ms. Tomlin insisted I use this one. So, I whipped my cloak over my shoulders to properly hold onto the instrument, and then Ms. Tomlin handed me the bow. It had taken some convincing and tears to get the matriarch to allow me to bring my cloak. It was the one semblance of peace I had—a piece of my mother to keep me safe, or at least comforted, as I walked to my death. “Don’t forget what I showed you.” The old woman pointed to the fiddle.

My fingers curled around the instrument and bow, the strings snagging on the elaborate gloves covering my skin in thin, black lace. For what felt like the hundredth time today, my mouth went dry. There was no point replying, so I nodded. “Good girl,” Ms. Tomlin croaked.“Don’t let us down.” Giving me one last push toward the woods, she was gone .

I tried not to do it, but I couldn’t help scanning the crowd. When I spotted my grandmother, my stomach turned to stone. Her eyes were red and swollen and locked on mine. Slowly, her head shook, and she mouthed, “Don’t go.” My eyes burned, but I couldn’t look away. Not when I knew it might be the last time I ever saw her. Her head bowed, and after wiping her cheeks with a handkerchief, she gave me a single wave and disappeared into the crowd. My stomach coiled. I could hardly breathe, and it took everything in me not to burst into tears.

She shuffled behind a gleaming Vasska. Karina must have stayed behind. We’d never had a good relationship, but I was disappointed that she couldn’t be bothered to say goodbye to the only person who’d ever stood up for her.

I ignored my uncle and tried to forget the pain on my grandmother’s face. A lump formed in my throat. I had to focus on why I was doing this. With my sacrifice, the famine would end, and things would be different. With my sacrifice, the Leshy would stop stealing from us and stop rotting our crops and making it impossible to travel. Grandmother would be fed and hopefully no longer hurt by her only son. The children and innocents of the village would be safe, and the misfortunes would come to an end. I had to stay strong.

The temperature dropped the closer I got to the edge of town, but I didn’t stop. I refused to look back as I staggered to the end of the path, and once I got there, I stared at the dark mouth of the forest. Had it always been that dark ?

A cold gust of wind prickled my skin, whisking around me and sending leaves skating over my feet. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought it was alive. That it was beckoning me forward. Even the elements knew this was what I had to do.

Sucking in a breath, I took that first fatal step into the woods, and as the shadows welcomed me, I held onto the hope that one day I’d make it back here and see my grandmother at least one more time.

***

After about half an hour of walking, I realized I had no clue where I was going. Ms. Tomlin had instructed me to go into the middle of the woods, but it all looked the same. I twisted my hands along the neck of the fiddle, steadying myself as best I could, reining in the uncontrollable shaking of my arms and fingers. When a crow fluttered by, I shrieked and staggered back.

The moment I hit the ground, everything went still.

My eyes shot to the sky above, my body unmoving against the cold, rocky earth. The orange treetops scraped against the gray sky and spun the longer I looked at them. As soon as I wasn’t seeing double, I got to my feet and whipped around, searching every direction for a sign of life. A sign of the Leshy .

Birds hopped on branches, leaves rustled in the wind, but nothing made a sound. Just like before, I could feel and see everything, but nothing made a peep.

Then I heard it.

It was a whisper. A whistle through the trees. A haunting melody. It was just as they’d said. I got to my feet, entranced by the off-kilter tune and the sudden unnatural stillness outside of it. My boots crunched against the leaves with every footstep, and beads of sweat formed along my hairline despite the frigid air.

I clutched the fiddle tighter, dragging the bow along the frozen ground beside me. I walked at first, and then I chased it, running toward the only sound among the trees. But no matter how deep into the woods I ventured, the song was still far away. No louder, no quieter. The same eerie tune. From some unknown source, it called to me.

A chill skittered up my spine as I thought of my next move. It was now or never, and the latter wasn’t an option.

I placed the fiddle on my shoulder.

The time between when my chin hit the rest and my bow touched the strings was a lifetime of bated breaths. My fingers trembled in my useless gloves, and then I began.

It only took one shaky note before the beast’s song came to a halt. Fear coated my skin and made my palms sweat. Even the wind ceased to breathe. Every stroke of sound had been sucked from the space around me. There were no indications of shimmying leaves or screeching crows .

Nothing.

The silence was suffocating.

Before I could attempt another note, a monstrous rumble burst through the woods. The ground was in an uproar, knocking me over and fracturing beneath me. I dropped the bow and fiddle as my spine cracked against the icy ground. My heart raced, the blood chilling in my veins.

Then the rumbling stopped, and all I heard was breathing. Deep, low, heavy breaths, warm against the nape of my neck.

And then a voice.

“Hasn’t anyone told you not to disturb me?”

His voice was so deep it thrummed against my spine. Nausea formed a heavy rock in my gut. I knew I had to turn around. To look at him. To face him. That’s why I was here. But—

“Answer me, little dove,” he whispered, a caress in my ears, though something unnatural crackled with his words.

“You’ve been disturbing us,” I said, trying my best to keep my voice steady. I couldn’t turn around. Not yet. I couldn’t face the monster yet.

A rush of air whipped around me, sending my hay-colored curls skittering above my head as they wriggled free from the intricate nest Ms. Tomlin had fashioned them into.

“Look at me,” he hissed. The voice had an echo, like two beings in one. Spindly fingers clutched my jaw, but I refused to look. His hand was massive but rough and unnatural. Each finger was a thick twig pricking my skin. I squeezed my eyes shut from the gust of wind accompanying his movements. I couldn’t open them. Not with him now in front of me. He jerked my chin up, and I heard creaks as his face lowered. “Look. At. Me.”

My heart raced so fast, pumping so fiercely, that I couldn’t feel anything else. I swore I could even hear it.

The twiggy fingers relaxed.

“I know.” His voice was calm. “Maybe you’ll look at me in another form.” His hand didn’t leave my face as it changed. Where once were long, prickly sticks were now soft, uncalloused skin. A human hand, large but smooth as silk. “Look at me, little dove,” his voice was just as human as mine, and though it was still deep, it was soothing. Seductive.

I had to look. I wouldn’t accomplish anything if I didn’t take that first leap. Besides, I only had to talk with him. That’s it. I just needed to survive this encounter, plead my case, and then I could go home. There was no need of anything else Ms. Tomlin had warned me about while she readied me to face him. Her precautionary words about seduction and sacrifice were merely to prepare me for the worst.

All I had to do was survive.

Slowly, I opened my eyes.

For the briefest moment, my heart stopped.

Before me was no mossy creature or frothing beast. Grasping my chin was a man. One with incredibly broad shoulders and thick hair as dark as untouched soil deep beneath the forest floor. His body was a sculpted mass that was hard to ignore, especially since all he wore was a drape of moss hanging from his lean hips. The sight was both shocking and intriguing; I’d never seen a man so bare. But what was most striking about him were his eyes. As he gazed down at me, a canopy of shadow, his eyes pierced mine, locking them in a deep trance. The striking green of his irises was mesmerizing. Unhuman in the way they shone, sparkling in the glinting light of the new autumn sun.

Those sultry eyes reflected a glow so intense I couldn’t look away.

His full lips cracked into a half smile. “What is your name, little dove?” His hair framed his face in thick, inky waves, perfectly swept back and cropped at the base of his neck.

“I-I didn’t come to discuss me. I came to discuss my people.”

His hand was still on my jaw, but as he answered, he stroked his index finger along my cheek. “You mean the trespassers. Do discuss.”

“Y-you have been stealing from us. It’s gotten so bad that people are getting hurt. Wheels have been broken off our carts, food has either been spoiled or stolen, and villagers have gone missing. Children have gone missing.”

His eyes fell to my mouth. He brushed it with his thumb, and I shivered at the fizz of his touch. “You have such a beautiful mouth.”

My skin flushed, but I ignored the rising heat. “A woman, her baby daughter and teenaged son, and two children—siblings—haven’t been found. What did you do with them? ”

“I did nothing,” he said coolly, still running his thumb along my lips. Each touch ignited a spark impossible to ignore.

“Liar,” I whispered, but I couldn’t stop my eyes from fluttering closed.

“Tell me your name,” he purred.

“What will you do with it?” My breath was ragged, my eyes still shut. Hypnotic heat and emotions I couldn’t place pooled through me. Something like candy and magic bubbled through my veins, skating from my tongue to my toes. He leaned in and smiled against my ear. A fire blazed deep within me.

“I want to get to know you. No mortal woman has ever summoned me before.” He nipped at my earlobe, and I let out a gasp. My eyes shot open as I staggered back, falling against a tree. His eyes bored into mine in a sultry stare as he slowly crept toward me.

My chest moved in fast, uneven motions. Cold air stung my throat as I sucked it in, desperate to breathe. What do I do? What do I say? What—

He stalked closer, his arm grabbing a branch above his head. I’d never seen a man like this—so bare and beautiful, with a body somehow oozing with both masculinity and vulnerability. I swallowed and tried looking away, but he leapt in front of me and grabbed hold of my jaw. He craned his neck, then bent forward until his face was level with mine. He let out a low hiss as he bared his teeth .

“Tell me your name.” The sound was like rustling leaves. The wind roared around me, encasing us in the eye of a miniature dust storm. His gaze fell to my mouth. He leaned in closer. “Tell me.”

“Leena,” I breathed. The briefest flutter flickered along my lips as his mouth barely brushed mine. They didn’t fully touch, but he was too close for me to think of anything else.

“Leena,” he purred, and again, that heat bloomed within me. “Come with me, Leena. I have things to show you.”