4. I Never Asked for This
4
I NEVER ASKED FOR THIS
WREN
R unning is worse than heights. It’s worse than pretty much anything else I can think of, too. Especially running at night when every single sound makes me think a predator is about to jump out of the trees and eat me.
Why in the gods’ names would anyone ever do this for fun?
James and Philip run every day, and they claim it’s enjoyable.
“ Good exercise,” James said the last time I asked why they willingly do this to themselves. “It’s fun,” Philip added.
Well, I don’t know how this wasn’t abundantly clear to me before, but my brother is obviously insane. He used to be my favorite sibling, but I’m rescinding that title. No one who enjoys this devilish, suns-damned activity can be my favorite anything. The twins will be my new favorites.
There is nothing enjoyable about running.
I’ve been racing through the woods for hours, trying to put as much distance between myself and my home as possible. I’ve come up with a plan, and even though it isn’t great, it’ll have to do for now.
Staying in Myreth with a glowing Mark is basically a death sentence, so I won’t do that. I can’t go south—the damned Relentless Mountains are there. I don’t know much about this land, but I know they’re impossible to cross.
I’m heading north to the Sapphire Coast, where I’ll find a boat to take me across the sea. I’m not entirely sure how far the coast is, but it’s a better plan than waiting around to be killed.
It feels like the forest goes on forever, even though I know that isn’t the case. I’ve overheard my brothers talking about an enormous city to the north, but I’ve never been there.
I’ve never been anywhere.
The trees have lost the emerald leaves they bear during the summer, and I’m surrounded by long brown trunks with spindly branches sticking out on all sides. Green moss covers most of the forest floor, including the fallen logs that seem to be placed in ideal tripping locations. The remaining leaves are shades of yellow and orange.
Thank the gods, the moons provide decent lighting, and I don’t impale myself, which, honestly, seems like something I’d do. However, they don’t stop branches from attacking me. I have more cuts on my hands, cheeks, and calves than the wooden carving of a bear that Truffle claimed as her own and scratched until it was unrecognizable.
My heart is slamming against my ribs, and it’s been making a concerted effort to escape the confines of my chest for hours. My lungs feel like they’re on fire. Every breath is like inhaling flames.
I’ve thrown up three times since I left the house, and my muscles are burning and shaking. As if that isn’t bad enough, my hip feels like it’s permanently bruised from my satchel smacking against it.
Running is fucking awful. I’d curse, except I don’t have the energy to speak.
I duck beneath a branch, my head swiveling from side to side as I use the moons to guide me north. I’m mostly guessing, if I’m being honest, since I’ve never tried navigating by the suns and the moons before.
I’m so unprepared for this journey; it’s actually laughable. Not only am I out of shape, but no one has ever taught me about the land where I live. I was never allowed to go hunting with Father, even when I begged. Before, that just annoyed me, but now I realize that’s going to be problematic.
If someone had asked me yesterday morning if I knew all there was for me to know about my kingdom, I would’ve said yes. I’ve spent my entire life preparing to be Given, and part of that included learning about Myreth. Unfortunately, the past twenty-four hours have made it clear there were enormous gaps in my education.
While I know that Myreth is a vast kingdom comprised of five provinces ruled by lords who answer to His Illustrious Majesty, King Andreas Bloodthorn, I’m unable to name the strange plants I keep passing. Some have small speckled green leaves, while others boast brilliant orange ones the size of my hand. Even with the late hour, they stand out among the rest of the forest.
I know that Lord Malachi Darkwater rules the province of Eskana, where I live, and he’s been married to his wife, Lady Isobel, for twenty-four years. They have four children, ages twenty-three, eighteen, seventeen, and eleven, and they spend a month every summer in the capital with the royal family.
What good is that information now? Lord Malachi isn’t here to tell me where I’m going, nor does that knowledge help me identify edible plants. My lack of education in this department will soon be a big problem. It’s not like the dried meat I took from the house will last long.
As if imminent starvation isn’t bad enough, I have a bigger issue on my hands. There are other towns and cities in Eskana, of course, but other than the one located north of the forest, I have no idea where they are. I don’t know how to find them, nor do I know where the nearest body of drinkable water is located.
Burning suns. I’m torn between the urge to scream and cry, but I don’t have time for either one. All I can do is keep putting as much distance between me and my village as possible.
So that’s what I do. My feet pound the forest floor as I run and run and, you guessed it, fucking run.
The longer I run, the more everything hurts.
You’re going to die on this trek, you foolish girl , a small voice at the back of my mind whispers. You should give up now and turn around.
I don’t know whether this voice is the product of my own negative thoughts or something else entirely, but I try to ignore it. It’s wrong. Turning back isn’t an option. I have to stay alive.
At first, the voice is merely annoying, but as exhaustion creeps over me, it gets louder and louder. Eventually, it’s roaring in my head. The effort to keep it quiet is nearly as draining as running, and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep going.
Nothing about this is easy.
By the time the suns crest the horizon, painting the sky above the trees in pastels, my throat is dry and scratchy. Every single part of me hurts. I scowl at the sky peeking through the trees, never ceasing my movements. It’s bright and cheerful, and the day will be beautiful.
That sucks. I was supposed to die today. It should be raining. The sky should be dark and cloudy, and a thick fog should be sweeping through the forest. A thunderstorm would’ve been appreciated.
At least then, the sky would’ve mourned the end of my life with me.
As it is, I glare at the rising suns as a branch whips me in the face. Fucking perfect. Even though every part of me wants to stop moving and lie down on the forest floor, giving in to my exhaustion, I don’t. I force my legs to keep moving because my parents will be waking soon. I wish I didn’t know what would happen, but I do.
I leap over a fallen log, picturing Mother’s face as she opens my bedroom door to find me gone. She’ll gasp, and the door will slip shut as she hurries to get Father. He’ll confirm that my room is empty, and they will exchange a worried look.
Father will see if I’m getting in one last goodbye with my brothers before my ceremony, while Mother will walk past the gallows to the village square. She’ll keep her head down and try not to attract attention as she searches Grenbloom, looking for me.
It won’t take them long to realize I’m not there.
Mother might cry because I’ve run from my fate. Father will hold her. But then, they’ll go to the temple and report me missing. That’s what any good citizen would do. Then, it will be official: I’ll be an outlaw. A gods-blessed who has missed her calling, guilty of one of the greatest crimes in the land.
Will my parents understand why I left? Will the twins? I wish I knew the answer, but I don’t. I have no idea what they’ll think of me, and I’m not sure I want to. I’d like to believe that none of them know that the Given are being ritualistically slaughtered, but I just… don’t.
It feels like I don’t fucking know anything anymore, and I’m not entirely sure what to do with that information. I still don’t know why the Given are murdered or why the priestesses killed Amelia and then talked about it so casually. I don’t even know how such an elaborate ruse was created.
Giving Ceremonies have been conducted for centuries—have the gods-blessed been murdered this entire time? What was that pink flash that filled the temple when Amelia died? Who was the cloaked figure?
My chest aches with the pain of all my unanswered questions. All I know is that my life has been irrevocably changed.
My eyes burn, and a single frustrated tear slides down my cheek. This was supposed to be my day. For so long, I looked forward to my Giving. It should’ve been the beginning of the rest of my life.
Instead, what do I have?
A murdered best friend, an aching body, and no real plan for how to survive now that I’ve run away. As if it’s mocking me for my current predicament, my Mark starts to itch. It thrums beneath my skin, and if I were a betting woman, I’d put several gold coins on the fact that it’s glowing brighter than normal right now.
Of course. Why is it doing this now , of all times? I’m on the run, and a glowing Mark is the last thing I need. Why won’t it dim?
Wishing that for once in my life, something would come easily to me, I adjust my hair over my forehead as best I can before drawing my hood further down. I can’t tell if the Mark is completely covered, but it’s better than nothing.
What did I do to deserve this?
I never asked to be gods-blessed. I would’ve been content with a normal life instead of this. Maybe the gods hate me. As another branch slaps me in the face and I feel the sting of drawn blood, I scowl.
That’s probably the case.
* * *
Mareeth and Nilam, the two suns, are high when I finally allow myself to take a break.
Sitting on a moss-covered rock that comes up to my hip, I chug water from my canteen. The cool liquid runs refreshingly down my throat, and I drink too fast. Coughing, I slap my hand over my mouth, forcing myself to keep the water down.
As soon as I’m finished drinking, I nibble on a few pieces of jerky. They’re somehow both over-spiced and bland, which seems impossible but tracks with the direction my life has taken. Keeping the food down is difficult, and I take another drink of water to try to rid myself of the taste before shoving away from the rock and standing.
“Fuck!” I shout as searing pain runs through my entire body.
The break was a bad idea. I never should have given my body the illusion of stillness. I thought I was in pain before, but that has nothing on how I’m feeling now.
My feet feel like I’m walking on coals, even though I’m just standing. My muscles are shaking, and my stomach is churning. Stopping would be the wise thing to do, but I can’t risk it. I need to keep going.
This time, running is pure, unmitigated torture. The only good thing about the constant pain is that it keeps my mind off the time, for the most part. In the back of my mind, I note that the suns are sitting in the middle of the sky.
It’s noon. My Giving Ceremony should be happening right now. As of this moment, I’m living on borrowed time.
I keep going. Lifting my feet and placing them one in front of the other consumes every ounce of concentration I possess. My run has slowed to a stumbling jog. My feet are two burning flames attached to my legs, and the bottom of my dress is covered in mud.
Hours pass. By the time the suns are setting in the east, I no longer feel like a person. I’m a jumbled mess of pain, nothing more.
At some point, tears start flowing down my cheeks. I can’t stop them. I should probably be concerned about the large cats, bears, and man-eating snakes that are rumored to reside in Eskana’s woods, but honestly, if they eat me, I won’t have to run anymore.
Maybe that would be better than this.