Spark of Fate (The Fate #1)
Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
Iwhirl around, not recognizing any landmarks. My pulse spikes as a mild panic rises in my veins.
I’m lost in the forest, which is odd since I know every inch of it. I twist and turn, looking, trying to determine where exactly I am. Where I’d come from.
Was it this way?
I take a single step before I doubt myself.
How do I get home from here?
Wherever here is… Everything in this place is unnaturally brighter than it should be. The leaves and the grass aren’t just green, they’re vibrant and vivid. The peeks of the sky I can see through the treetops is a cerulean blue that makes me wish I could fly so I can study it up close.
I’m so lost in thought staring at the sky that I almost miss the rustling sound from behind me.
By the time I spin towards it, there’s nothing there.
The back of my neck prickles with an awareness of someone watching me.
A presence behind me. I whip back around to see a woman standing across the clearing.
She’s ghastly pale and dressed in a threadbare dirt-stained nightdress, face obscured by stringy waist-length maroon hair.
Her cracked lips are moving, but I can’t hear the words.
I take a few tentative steps towards her, the grass cushioning my bare feet. As I grow closer, her faintly muttered words become clearer.
“Shall cross… darkness… depths of endless night.” I miss every few words so everything I manage to pick up is senseless.
“Light… darkness… stars aligned… hearts…” I stutter to a stop.
Something about the words freezes the blood in my veins and causes my pulse to race.
But I can’t for the life of me comprehend why.
It’s an inherent fight or flight reaction my body seems to understand, but my brain can’t catch up.
None of the words I’ve heard her speak even fit together in any sort of logical sentence.
“Are you okay?” I take another step closer, reaching out my hand.
But right before it connects, she lets out a sharp, keening wail and I jump back, startled, nearly tripping over a nearby tree root that protrudes from the ground in the process.
She lifts her head, and I’m granted a brief glimpse of her face.
Her eyes are nearly pure black and bloodshot from tears.
Dark smudges present under her eyes, indicating a lack of sleep.
She gives me a wicked smile that only further cracks her lips and the deep red of blood starts to seep through. She opens her mouth on another scream—
I shoot up, gasping for breath, hand clutching at my racing heart. I take in my surroundings and relief sinks in at the familiar sight of my bedroom.
Just a dream. Well, more like a nightmare. The same nightmare I’ve had for the last ten months without fail.
Every. Single. Night.
You’d think by this point my dream self would have figured out it was a nightmare.
Except, it feels more real than a normal dream.
Which I know sounds absolutely crazy and if I ever dared say anything about it out loud, I’d likely be shipped off to the nearest asylum.
But I can’t explain it. Something about it feels important.
Like it’s supposed to mean something, only I still have no idea what.
Or what the woman is trying to tell me. I only get a few words from her every time.
Last night was the most words I’ve ever been able to get out.
But what does ‘shall cross darkness depths of endless night. Darkness stars aligned hearts’ even mean?
The current working theory I have is a whole lot of nothing.
The shuffling and clinking of a body moving around in the other room tells me Aunt Fleur must already be up and getting a head start on the preparations for tomorrow.
I collapse back into my bed with a sigh as I remember tomorrow’s date.
It’s Samhain.
I blink up at the ceiling. It’s weird to me that we celebrate one of the Fae’s biggest holidays of the year as humans.
But for whatever reason, these traditions transcend the division between our two realms. Sometimes I wonder if everyone even knows that this is historically a Fae holiday and that it’s not something we came up with on our own.
I only found out the holiday’s origins after a traveling merchant set up shop in our market one day and had an absurd number of contraband texts that he alleged were from ‘the Faerie realm.’
Did I believe him? Absolutely not.
Did I buy them anyway and smuggle them into the house before my aunt could see? Most definitely.
As I drag myself out of bed, my eyes flick to where I know my latest read is stashed under the mattress.
According to the book, Samhain marks the end of summer and the harvest season, which the Fae celebrate with abundant feasts, bonfires, and parties across the entire realm.
It also mentioned that it’s one of two times a year when the veil between our realms is the thinnest. The mischievous Fae tend to take advantage of the thinned veil and cross into our realm. Allegedly.
Do I believe that? Not really. I’ve lived in this same village for all twenty years of my life and have yet to see any proof or existence of the Fae.
There were rumors a few years back that traveled through all the nearby villages that a group of Fae crossed into our realm and went on a spree wreaking havoc. Thieving, trickery, and overall causing a ruckus.
Truthfully, I think it was only a story made by some parents trying to frighten their children into behaving.
Something like ‘if you don’t clean your room, the evil Fae will snatch you away in your sleep.
’ That, or it could’ve just as easily been one of the village troublemakers and there are certainly no shortages of them.
No one has any proof one way or the other and therefore the Fae become the great scapegoat.
The human version of Samhain on the other hand is significantly more low-key. We’ve held onto the feast tradition, but it’s not nearly as extravagant as what the stories say of the Fae’s. We also use the day as a time to reflect and honor the loved ones we’ve lost.
A familiar pang hits me in the chest as I think about—
“Livi? Are you up yet? I need your help!” Aunt Fleur’s voice pulls me from my solemn thoughts. It’s almost as if she knew the dark path my thoughts began to tunnel into.
I shake off Samhain and the lingering anxiety around the nightmare and pull myself out of my thoughts.
I stumble over to my washbasin and splash some cold water onto my face in hopes it will further wake me up.
Catching a glimpse of my face in the mirror above the basin, all that stares back at me is exhaustion.
There are dark circles under my dulled emerald eyes that have all but taken up residence there since the nightmares began.
My usually bronzed skin is pale and leeched of color.
My dark, golden hair is tangled into the perfect depiction of bed head and looks dull, lackluster.
I drop my face into my hands and press the heel of my palms into my eyes. I need a good night’s sleep for once. I can’t even remember the last time I slept through the night without interruption, and I realize now how much I took that effortless sleep for granted.
“Livi!”
“I’m up, I’m up,” I call back to her as I change out of my nightdress and into a pale blue woolen shift. Combing my fingers roughly through my hair to tame it quickly, I tie it up and out of my face with a leather strap.
Walking out of my bedroom, I spy Aunt Fleur flitting around the kitchen with way too much energy for this hour.
Aunt Fleur still looks incredibly young for someone who found herself raising her troublesome niece since infancy.
If it existed, I would swear she’s mixing a little magic into those poultices that she uses.
She’s petite, a fair few inches shorter than me, with flowing silver hair which is currently tied up into a tight knot at the nape of her neck.
“What can I help with?” I ask as I step fully into the kitchen.
Aunt Fleur looks up at me with emerald eyes that match mine. They narrow taking me in, giving my question careful thought as she finishes wrapping her well-worn apron around her homespun gray shift dress.
“Would you be able to run into town and pick up a few more bells? I think I’ve misplaced some of the ones we used for Beltane. And then once you’ve finished with that, perhaps you can enlist Thomas in helping you gather some more mushrooms and berries for the feast tomorrow.”
I smother the urge to roll my eyes. She always misplaces the bells. And of course, they’re supposed to be the most important part of the preparations for tomorrow. The common superstition is that bells hung above your doors and windows will keep the Fae from crossing the threshold of your home.
“Yes, of course. I’ll run out for the bells now and drop them off before I head out with Tom.” I gather my woven wicker basket from near the door and slip on my shoes.
“Hurry off now,” she says as she shoos me out the door. “And be careful, dear!”
“I’m always careful, Auntie!” I shoot back with a knowing grin.
All I hear as she shuts the door behind me is her scoff and something that sounds like yeah, right muttered under her breath. I’m laughing as I make my way down to the main path that leads into town.
Willowbrook is a small and quiet village, surrounded on three sides by a dense forest. People tend to avoid it, choosing instead to settle down in towns closer to main roads that link the kingdom, but also due to the faerie portals rumored to lurk in the forest.
The thought makes me roll my eyes. Once again, the townspeople getting carried away.
I’ve yet to stumble on one myself—and I know all the nooks and crannies of the forest around town—but it’s always the talk of the town when someone stumbles into the tavern in a frenzy, raving about having fallen through a portal and the things they had seen.