4. The Girl with Stormy Eyes
THE GIRL WITH STORMY EYES
I was cold. So cold…and alone.
Icy wind snaked over my skin, and I curled into myself, hugging Arion to my chest. The little wooden Pegasus gave me some comfort in the smooth edges defining its wings and powerful form.
Papa had carved it for my birthday last year—his stories of the mightiest stallion who fought alongside our goddess, Selene, were always my favorite.
He recited them to me almost every night at bedtime, and I rarely asked to hear any other story.
Tears welled in my eyes, and I sniffed, blinking them back.
Arion smelled heavily of smoke now and little of Papa, of Mama, of home.
I wanted so badly to hear Papa tell me a story.
I didn’t care if it was about Arion, or the siren and the Oneiroi .
He could even tell me the scary stories of The Fates and their threads, or the ghastly creatures of The Shadow Steppes he used to share at supper.
I only wanted to hear his voice, hear Mama’s voice.
I clung to the little Pegasus, the only thing I had left of our home, praying Arion might bless me with his courage. Wind whipped through the trees and the scent of rain filled the air. My body quivered, but I tried to steel myself.
Be brave.
It could be worse. Tonight wasn’t as cold as the last few nights had been, and I had a jacket this time. I smiled as I curled into it, pulling the fabric around me tighter.
The boy promised a blanket tomorrow. I wanted to see him again, play with him. I hadn’t gotten his name, only his sister’s: Cali. What were they doing now? Probably curled up with their mama, warm and safe.
Loneliness sank into the pit of my stomach, and I wrapped my arms around my knees. I whimpered as my thoughts drifted to Mama and Papa. Where were they? Why hadn’t they found me yet? I’d searched and searched for them, but I hadn’t found them anywhere.
I flinched as a branch snapped above me, and I screamed as the small limb crashed to the ground at my feet. Panic shot through my body as I pressed against the base of the tree, and the tears came harder. I wanted to go home, wanted to be held by Mama, hear her tell me it was going to be all right.
Mikros?
I stiffened at the soft voice echoing through the forest. The sound of the winds died out, but the branches continued to sway just as violently. A soft hum sank into my bones, warm and comforting.
Over here.
A warm lull settled over every inch of my body, as if the very air was wrapping me in its embrace, tugging me forward. I gripped Arion tightly, my fingers trembling.
The voice. It was Mama’s…right?
I scanned the dark woods. Where was she? My lips parted to call out for her, but the rawness of my throat was too painful to speak, the fire and ash from the attack a few nights ago leaving my throat so raw and sore, it hurt to even drink or eat.
Warmth filled my chest, the world swaying as I quietly begged Mama to find me. The forest went deathly quiet—the whisper of the branches disappeared, and the rustle of the leaves, the chitter of the night creatures that had kept me company in the recent nights, vanished.
I reached out for the voice again, praying to hear Mama respond.
Where are you?
It was soft, barely a whisper, but I heard her again, and my heart swelled.
I’m here, mikros.
I winced as pain lanced across the underside of my foot, and I blinked .
Unfamiliar forests surrounded me. When had I stood? When had I left the tree or the creekside?
I lifted my foot to find blood rolling down the underside before dripping to the stone I’d sliced it on. A branch snapped in the darkness, and my heart lurched in my throat as I looked around.
“Ma—” I grimaced, clutching my throat as pain shot through me, erupting into a coughing fit.
Mama?
Hands grabbed me from the darkness, muffling the scream that tore from my throat.