Chapter 4
The river was smooth and calm, and the sun basked across the horizon. I glanced down, eyeing the foamy peaks, glistening as the current pulled them south.
It was early morning. Clouds wafted through the sky, filtering the dawn with pastel rays. A slight chill clung to the breeze, sending a shiver down my spine as it always did during the last few days of Spring.
Just a few paces away, I heard the thud of boots coming up the stairs like beats of a war drum.
A figure emerged at the edge of the platform with armor bearing the emblem of the Sídhe Guard.
My stomach twisted. His golden hair and icy blue eyes seemed so unassuming.
But his wicked smile left a rotting taste in my mouth.
This one always started off so peacefully. It was hard to imagine this day could have ever turned into what it did.
I leaned against the dam's railing; my attention drawn downward as a group of seven emerged from the nearby tree line.
They mingled in the high grass, piercing the silence with laughter as they set up camp just a stone's throw from the river's edge.
I watched in horror as five of them discarded their clothes and dove into the river, one by one.
I wanted to scream, but my voice was trapped, my body was paralyzed. I wanted to tell them to leave, to run back to the city as fast as they could. But I remained in excruciating uselessness.
They would never see it coming. By the time the gates opened, by the time the current raced in, it would be too late. They would never make it back to shore.
All I could do was look on as my best friends met the wrath of the Sprithe dam and the hateful hands of those who controlled the levers.
This was one of the nightmares I hated the most.
They swam out to the center, painfully unaware of the consequences. My gaze lingered on the faint glimmer from Mairyen’s left hand, the one that reflected the light. The one that bore her Riftborne curse.
The distant sounds of knocking interrupted my thoughts, reverberating through the dream like a manifestation of doom itself. It was only drowned out by the sudden screeching of metal.
The ground beneath me rumbled. I tried to tear my gaze; I couldn’t watch this. Not again. But my body betrayed me.
My eyes lowered to see the water rush through the gates, tumbling to the river below. It hit the surface like a reckoning.
My body jolted back into the reality of our living room. My eyes snapped open. Osta was sprawled out on the floor beside me, snoring softly. I glanced around, blinking the sleep from my eyes.
Knock, knock, knock.
The sound sent my eyes flying in the direction of the door.
Someone was knocking. Pounding, actually.
Panic surged through my body as my mind recollected the events from the night before.
Osta stirred, shifting on the floor as another set of knocks reverberated through the apartment like trumpets of doom.
I ran my shaking fingers through my hair, causing it to float around my head like a demented halo. Each of my veins pulsed with worry as I sat in silent contemplation. The time of my reckoning had arrived.
Osta sat up slowly, her eyes still closed as she yawned and stretched out her arms. “Is someone at the door?” she mumbled. We never had visitors.
The sound boomed through the room again, but this time, it was followed by a question.
“Fia! Are you in there?” A familiar voice shouted, the words drenched in concern.
My heart did somersaults in my chest.
“Fia, I swear to Eibhlín, if you don’t open this door, I’ll have no choice but to use this firesbane I’m holding.”
This brought me to my feet. I stepped over a half-asleep Osta and moved towards the door, slowly pulling it open to meet the furious gaze of Maladea Thiston.
It was just Ma.
Could last night really just have been some sick dream?
“Fia, do you have any idea how worried I have been?” she scolded with flames in her eyes.
She swung the door open wide and pushed past me, stomping right into our flat.
The silver peaks of her chestnut hair seemed more prevalent today.
Sweat glistened on her wrinkled temple, and her hibiscus-stained hands were clenched into fists.
“Worried?” I managed to croak.
Ma found her way to a recliner in the corner and sat down, shooting me a disapproving look. Osta’s eyes followed her with confusion.
“Fia. First, you leave the shop without saying anything. Second, you don’t show up for work this morning.
Third, I have to hear from Eron that you ended up making the last delivery to the Grove last night.
Can you even imagine where my mind went?
” I saw a brief glimmer of fear wash over her eyes before she cleared her throat and composed herself, shaking her head.
“Ma… I’m so sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night. I must have dozed off…” My voice weakened.
Ma leaned forward. “More nightmares? ”
“Erm–yes. But that’s nothing new. I expect them at this point,” I mumbled, shifting my weight. I glanced at her nervously. “But everything is fine at the shop?”
“It still looks like it was hit by a tornado, but other than that, yes. Why? Shouldn’t it be?” She raised an eyebrow at me.
I tried to shake off the last lingering threads of sleep. The bright rays of sun flowing in from the window told me it was early afternoon. I never missed work. No wonder she was so concerned.
Ma wasn’t a Riftborne. She was born and raised in Sídhe but came from a modest household. She didn’t speak about them much. I’d assumed they’d had a falling out. Now, we were essentially each other’s chosen family.
In the beginning, I was hesitant about her, as was the case with most strangers, but I had to find work, and that’s a hard task when you’re viewed as a child of the Rebellion. Even harder when your appearance tends to unnerve the ever-loving shit out of people.
But from the time I first stepped into the Apothecary, Ma treated me with warmth and kindness. She saw beyond the mark on my hand, beyond the label that defined me for so many. In her eyes, I was simply Fia.
I swallowed hard, trying to release the lump that had formed in my throat. The thought of disappointing her was stifling. If she found out about what I had done…
A wince shot through me. That was one of my greatest fears.
In an attempt to keep my expression nonchalant, I shrugged. “No, of course not. I was just making sure… If you’ll give me five minutes, I can be ready to head back to the shop with you.”
Ma studied me but said nothing, eventually diverting her gaze and dismissing me with a hand gesture.
“And what’s wrong with this one? Too much wine from the Highlands?” she teased Osta as I reached the hallway. A sleepy groan echoed through the space, followed by a few grunts of laughter .
I dressed quickly, my thoughts still swirling with questions. Surely, if the girls had been killed…I would be sitting in a Sídhe prison cell by now. And yet, the memory was so vivid… so real… their eyes lighting up from within. I shuddered and tried to push away the thought.
Maybe Osta was right. Maybe it was some kind of hallucination triggered by stress and a lack of sleep. The idea didn’t exactly sink into my bones, but it was the one I decided to grasp onto.
I glanced towards my trousers from last night and grabbed my apothecary belt. The lily of the valley. I’d completely forgotten about it.
Unfastening the sachet, I found them crushed beyond repair.
As I stepped out onto the streets of Luminaria’s Central district, the clamor of the city hit me like a wall of chaos.
My legs were still wobbly and the feeling of eyes on me pricked my skin.
The summer wind grazed me like the touch of an unassuming foe. The city was always busiest during the warmer months, teeming with visitors from across the Isle, drawn here by festivals and solstice celebrations.
Unsurprisingly, this was my least favorite time of year. The city was already packed enough on a normal day. The extra influx of bodies only provided more opportunities to end up in the wrong company. I prayed to Niamh that wouldn't happen today.
I didn’t hate Luminaria. In fact, there were many things I’d grown to love about the city. It was the dark underbelly that stirred my fears. The discrimination against Riftborne was a secret that everyone knew but no one talked about.
I lowered my head, and we began navigating the mayhem, making our way to the shop. The Apothecary was only a fifteen- minute walk, but I picked up the pace. Every second out here made me feel exposed and scrutinized.
Suddenly, a beam of light flashed across my eyes, the reflection of sunlight on silver metal, and my heart skipped a beat.
I expected to see a guardsman trudging towards me but only found a blacksmith polishing a blade on the street corner, his shop billowing smoke behind him.
I let out a slow, hollow breath as he looked up at me.
Tearing my eyes away from him, I hurried to catch up with Ma.
Guilt churned in my gut. If only these people knew I might just truly be the monster they worried so much about. I wrapped my arms around my middle, attempting to quell the ache.
We tried our best to dodge the street vendors aggressively selling their wares. Ma mumbled curses under her breath. Her aversion to people was one of her more endearing qualities.
Canals connected the furthest reaches of the city, allowing for quick travel and exchange of goods. Boats of all shapes and sizes floated down the busy waterways. A few fishermen were gathered along the edges of the water, slowly reeling in their lines and nets as they talked amongst themselves.
Nature sprawled across the urban landscape–vines embracing marbled towers, flowers adorning the streets while trees and their roots waged war on the cobblestone path.
A few women wearing floral sundresses were collecting herbs from a community garden off to the right, smiling like they hadn’t a single care in the world.