ABSOLUTELY FUCKING WONDERFUL
WREN
Grief finds me in late afternoon.
For hours, I’ve been keeping myself occupied while the others rest, actively avoiding all thoughts of Kadyn and Amelia and the gods-damned mess that is my life.
But the problem is, it’s too quiet, and this space is too small.
The twins and Gabriel are fast asleep. I count all the stones, pick at every stray thread in my dress, study all the crates, and even examine the engraved hilt of Gabriel’s sword—from a distance, of course.
And then I run out of things to do.
One moment, I’m staring at the dirt beneath my feet, tracing designs with my finger. The next, a flash of green catches my eye. It’s a stray piece of grass, blown about by the wind, and the color . . .
It’s identical to Kadyn’s Mark.
I fling my eyes away, but it’s too late. There’s an ache deep in my chest, and then, the box inside me shatters. It isn’t a clean break, nor is it fixable. Everything I’d been avoiding, all the grief I’d shoved down, comes pouring out all at once.
Kadyn’s body flashes through my mind. The lifelessness in his eyes. The blood pooling around him. The way he collapsed, so reminiscent of Amelia’s final moments in the temple.
The Given stick together.
My eyes burn at the reminder of my friends’ deaths. They were so different, yet so much about them was the same. Digging my nails into my palms, I try to distract myself to pull my mind from these dark thoughts. It’s no use.
A tear slides down my cheek, and it opens the floodgates. Salty rivers stream from my eyes. I would sooner be able to bring my friends back from the dead than stop the trails of devastation, hurt, and grief.
They feel never-ending.
A deep, agonizing pain starts in the center of my chest before spiraling outwards. Touching all of me. My arms, my legs, my head, even my fingertips and toes ache. My Mark burns, an exploding star, and a sob crawls up my throat.
I shove my hand over my mouth, smothering the sound of my grief. Wrapping my other arm around my stomach, I hug myself as tightly as I can.
The pain gets worse.
Running, for all its awfulness, allowed me to keep my grief safely locked away.
But now . . .
Now there is nothing to shield me from the pain. Visions of blood and death flash through my mind, each worse than the last.
The way the king’s magic careened towards me.
Kadyn’s hands, shoving me away. The green flash that was so reminiscent of the one on Amelia’s Giving Day.
My best friend’s scream as the head priestess slashed her silver blade across her throat.
Kadyn, falling to my feet as he took the king’s killing blow that was meant for me.
Blood. Crimson rivers cascading from them both.
Pain.
My burning Mark and the blue sparks that hovered above my hand.
The flames.
And then . . . more death.
This time, I had caused it. Me. The person who took in injured animals and helped heal them. I brought about their deaths.
And now I’m something I never thought I’d be: a murderer.
My eyes sting, and my nose runs as more tears flow down my face. They feel never-ending.
There is so much death and pain and suffering that I can barely parse through it all. I weep until it seems impossible that my body can produce more tears. And yet, they still stream freely down my cheeks.
Who knew it was possible to cry so fucking much?
The afternoon drags on, time a blur, as I silently grieve. For myself and for my friends. My family. For the life I thought I’d live. At some point, the light dims and the suns begin their nightly descent.
And then, the air shifts. The temperature, which had already begun cooling, plummets so rapidly that my tears dry up.
Something has changed.
I rub the heels of my hands across my cheeks, drying them, and look around. My sisters are still huddled together, sleeping. They look so young and innocent. At peace, despite our surroundings.
My shoulders loosen a fraction, and I exhale, my eyes finding Gabriel on their own accord.
He’s awake. Crouched before me, he’s gripping his sword, and his jaw is tense. He looks every bit the Hunter I know him to be—a predator, through and through.
“Did you feel it, too?” I ask, my skin prickling. “The shift in the air?”
He nods grimly, his gaze slowly sweeping through the small space.
My forehead feels feverish, and my fingers tingle. I swallow past the growing lump in my throat. “What . . .”
My voice trails off as something red catches my eye. A crimson speck, no bigger than an ember, floats through one of the windows. It drifts to the ground and lands between me and Gabriel.
I lean in, intent on getting a better look, but a hand lands on my arm. Fingers dig into my flesh, wrenching me back.
“Stop! Don’t get too close,” Gabriel growls. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think there was panic in his voice. For me? I’m not sure.
I freeze. “You want me to keep my distance from the speck? It’s tiny.”
It doesn’t seem that threatening, but the way he’s acting . . .
Gabriel yanks me away from the offending particle. “Don’t let the size fool you; it’s extremely dangerous.”
This seems rather dramatic, all things considered.
“What is it?”
“A magical ember,” he replies ominously.
My breath hitches, and my mind spins. Magical? “As in . . .”
“The king sent it.” Gabriel rakes a hand through his hair, a frustrated sound rumbling through his chest. “He’s searching for you.”
“With . . . that.” My brows furrow. “But it’s minuscule.”
Red and glowy and small. Honestly, it’s a miracle I even noticed it.
Gabriel nods, his eyes darkening. “It’s a tracker. If it touches you, King Andreas will know exactly where you are.”
I freeze, the crimson ember seeming far more ominous in light of the Hunter’s new information. “I didn’t know.”
“The king’s powers cannot be underestimated. He has ways of finding people and making them pay.”
He shudders, a haunted look passing through his eyes. What has he seen that has instilled him with such fear?
“I know he’s dangerous.” I saw the king’s magic and what he did to Kadyn. Heard the rage in his voice. He wants to kill me; there’s no doubt in my mind. My Mark pulses at the thought, and I squeeze my fists, trying to shake the unsettled feeling that has taken over me.
“No, you don’t, Wren. You might think you do, but until you see what he can do, until you witness the depths of his magic . . .” A vein pulses in Gabriel’s jaw, and a look of absolute agony crosses his face before it hardens into stone. “King Andreas is death, little bird.”
A statement like that would sound like a joke coming from anyone else, but there’s no mistaking the seriousness in Gabriel’s voice. He truly believes what he’s saying.
And I . . .
Suns save me, but I can see where he is coming from.
The king has never been portrayed as kind. Even as a child, sheltered from most things thanks to my status as a Given, I knew he was to be feared. But the man I met last night was filled with a darkness that permeated every part of his being.
His voice, his eyes, even his movements.
King Andreas Bloodthorn is the nightmare used to keep children in their beds, the villain in stories told in dark corners of taverns late at night.
Because of course that’s the man who is coming after me.
One would think my bad luck has to run out at some point, right? It feels like I should be due for a stroke of good fortune, but it doesn’t seem to be coming any time soon. My life has steadily gone downhill ever since I snuck into Amelia’s Giving Ceremony.
Today’s my birthday, for suns’ sakes. Twenty-one feels like it should be a monumental year. When my older brothers turned twenty-one, they had parties. I remember watching as everyone else drank too much, laughed, and talked too loudly and generally enjoyed life.
There won’t be a party for me today. No gifts. No celebrations.
All I have to show for myself is a feverish Mark, two dead friends, a cramping stomach, and a thirst that’s getting worse by the hour.
And, on top of all that—as if it isn’t enough—an evil king with a penchant for cruelty and bloodshed is using every tool at his disposal to search for me.
Delightful. Absolutely fucking wonderful. Happy gods-damned birthday to me, I suppose.
Twisting my hands together, I sigh. “Okay. Well, that’s . . . terrible.”
What else is there to say?
“Yes, it is.” Gabriel stands, extending his hand towards me. “Come on. We have to leave right away.”
His tone is firm, one of a man unused to hearing the word no.
Moments like these make me wonder how I ever thought that Gabriel was anything but a soldier. Everything about him screams that he’s a trained warrior. He is powerful, strong, and clearly knows his way around weapons.
Suns, dealing with my problems would be so much easier if I had some of his training. If I knew how to wield a sword, or if I were an expert huntress, skilled with a bow and arrow, I’d have a chance of defending myself.
Instead, I’m just . . . me.
A few days ago—suns, even twenty-four hours ago—I would’ve argued with the Hunter. Following his orders doesn’t come naturally to me, and it isn’t easy. But difficult as it may be, I’m able to recognize that he’s trying to help us. Besides, we have bigger problems at hand.
I slip my hand into Gabriel’s, forcing myself to ignore the warmth emanating from him, and rise to my feet. As soon as I’m standing, he pulls his hand from mine and crouches, studying the ember once more.
Keeping my distance from the crimson particle, I go to my sisters. Touching Violet’s shoulder, then Marie’s, I whisper, “Wake up, girls. It’s time to go.”
Their eyes blink open at the same time, and they clamber to their feet, yawning. They are identical replicas of each other, down to their violet hair. They even reach their arms upwards at the same time, stretching like the stray cats I used to bring home.
It’s a suns-damned miracle that they slept for as long as they did in this cold, uncomfortable space. I’m not surprised, though. Mother always said the twins could probably sleep through an earthquake, and it seems she was right.