14. Hurt People
Lyra felt warm in Maelys’ embrace despite the chilly morning air.
“I am sorry,” Maelys whispered.
Lyra’s breath caught in her throat. She had never heard those words before.
“We have lost sight of who we are by following our king’s orders.” Maelys stared out into the forest, and a bird landed on a nearby branch and began singing. The song was beautiful, full of cheer and merriment. Maelys nodded and then looked back at Lyra.
“My story is like many. I was unwanted and unloved. Left in the human world to be raised alongside them.”
“A changeling,” Lyra muttered.
Maelys nodded. “My birth parents might have been monsters, but that action was the single greatest kindness that they could have ever bestowed upon me. My human mother—she loved me.”
Lyra watched as a multitude of reactions flitted across Maelys’ face. She took a seat on the ground, and Lyra sat beside her.
“She was a widow and had already buried two children when I was placed on her doorstep. She often told me that the gods had blessed her that night.” Maelys snorted. “She had a healthy respect for the gods, not just Alfor, the human god, but Ennosidas, and Fionn as well.”
Lyra knew each of the three gods that had split the world between them, but for a human to observe them was confounding.
She was taught to recognize only Ennosidas and that the others would be angered at her attention.
They were not meant for her. Even Ennosidas merely tolerated her observance since she was a female.
“I grew up strange, called to the magic of the land and animals. But I was alone, if not for my mother; only she had ever understood me. Saw my quietness as curiosity and not aloofness, my desire to speak with animals, kind, and not peculiar. It didn’t make her many friends either.
I was still a child when the men came and burned down our house.
Screaming that the kind, loving woman who had raised me was a witch. ”
Lyra’s throat burned at the emotion raging across Maelys’ face.
“People fear what they do not understand, and they mask that fear with hate. You hate yourself, Lyra, because you do not know yourself.”
Maelys’ words dropped like a stone in water inside Lyra’s chest, the ripples carrying outward until they swallowed her.
“It took me a long time to find myself,” Maelys continued. “It helped that when I ran from the cottage that night, the magic led me to the Wilds. To Ridge, Otto, and Wilder. They became the family I lost, the family I needed. It’s never easy to travel this life alone.”
Lyra took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. The pain in her chest was a living thing, writhing, biting, and clawing. She didn’t know if she was capable of letting people in.
“I have only ever caused pain,” Lyra whispered.
Maelys tilted her head and stared at her.
“Have you ever tried not to?”
Lyra bit her lip and shook her head.
“We’ll try together.”
Maelys stretched out a hand in offering, and Lyra stared and stared at it. At what this meant. She didn’t think for a second that Maelys would offer her story or her friendship under a ruse.
Lyra’s gaze shifted from the offering to Maelys’ eyes. They were golden. As bright as the sun that Lyra had dreamed of seeing one day.
Yes, they were her captors, but it was more than that.
Safety took precedence, and she tentatively took Maelys’ hand and closed her fingers around it.
They walked all through the night and morning, but hadn’t even made it halfway to the next town before Lyra’s legs began to ache and throb.
The sun was well past its apex in the sky and was resting on the tops of the trees to the west. Each step was a stab and burn to her muscles, joints, and bones. With her last step, she grimaced, and a small cry escaped her.
Otto turned around and stopped.
She was slowing them down.
Wilder forged on ahead, barely visible from his lead position. Following behind him were Ridge and Maelys. The only person walking as slowly as her was Otto, but she had a feeling he’d been ordered to stay behind with her.
“Do you need a moment?” Otto was kind, and that was strange too.
She couldn’t tell what his angle was. If he were a true seer, did he pity her for her past … or maybe her future?
“Just let me catch my breath,” she panted out.
A cramp seized her right calf, and she crumpled to the ground.
“Easy now!” Otto was immediately at her side, gripping her by the elbow.
“I’m alright. I’m alright. It was only a cramp,” Lyra replied. Her cheeks burned. She felt pathetic.
“Here, chew on this,” Otto replied, pulling a stalk of yarrow from his pocket.
Lyra took it without a second thought and shoved it stem and all into her mouth.
He untied his water flask from his belt and held it out to her. “Drink?”
She nodded enthusiastically and swallowed before chugging some of the water. Otto looked on with a small smile and a twinkle in his eye.
“What?” she asked, handing him back the water.
“He would carry you, you know? If you asked. He would.”
Lyra shook her head, and a lock of auburn hair slid across her face. When Otto stayed quiet and the pain lessened, she slowly stood.
“I don’t need his help.”
Otto bit back a smile.
“Of course not.”
“Why are you—”
“Being nice?” he finished for her.
Lyra nodded. She wasn’t used to freely given kindness. There was always an angle to be played.
“Because everyone deserves kindness, even those who think they deserve it the least.”
It was an effort not to flinch or snap back with something bitter, but she had promised Maelys that she would try.
“So you have seen me in your visions? What I’ve done and what I am capable of?” She squared her shoulders, waiting for the disappointment she knew was coming.
“What you have done? Sure. And I don’t fault you for it one bit. That was how you had to survive, Lyra.”
The world fell silent, the wind stopped blowing, and the birds stopped singing. Was he being truthful? Or telling her what she desperately wanted to hear.
“We have all done things we are not proud of,” Otto gestured to the figures far ahead that belonged to Ridge and Maelys. “What matters now is how you choose to live. Are you going to keep hurting because you were hurt? Or can you grow?”
She heaved a sigh at such a philosophical question.
“I guess it depends on what happens from here …”
Otto tapped the side of his head.
“I know what you are capable of, and with the right encouragement, love, and acceptance, it will be many great things.”
Her eyes stung, and she had to grit her teeth to keep from sobbing. This stranger, this understanding stranger, had told her everything she had ever wanted to hear but would never admit. She didn’t know how to react or even what to say.
This was the second time that she had felt seen today.
The elves differed greatly from all the stories she had been told. Stories about merciless monsters who leave their babies in the woods or swap them with human children, who fought in countless battles against creatures of pure nightmare and won, and their overall ruthless barbarism.
While some stories had been told as truth, she didn’t see an ounce of that looking at Otto now.
“Stopping to smell the flowers?” Wilder barked.
Ridge and Maelys stood beside him like sentinels. His face was pinched with a snarl, and Lyra felt for all the world that he wanted to strike her.
“She had a cramp. Her legs are unaccustomed to the strain,” Otto replied, unfazed by the fury wafting off Wilder.
“And what do you see needing to happen so that we can get there on time?”
Maelys bumped her shoulder against his. His eyes slid to hers, and she shook her head once. Lyra was stunned.
Otto looked from Lyra, who stood grimacing, squeezing her thigh, to Wilder with his rigid shoulders and hands squeezed into fists.
“You can slow your pace, and we’ll be late. Or we can take turns carrying her. But we’ll only make it on time when you carry her.”
The color drained from Lyra’s face. She thought she had made another ally, and then he goes off and does a thing like that.
Wilder didn’t reply. He stalked to Lyra and pulled one of her arms over his shoulders before crouching down. In one swift movement, he had slung her onto his back as if she weighed no more than a cloak. Lyra clung to his neck.
“Don’t choke me,” he grumbled and started walking.
She loosened her grip and leaned away from him. His hands tightened around her thighs.
“If you lean too far back, I will drop you on your ass,” he bit out.
He squeezed her legs for emphasis, and she sighed before leaning forward.
“I didn’t think you would want me pressed against you.” Lyra could have sworn his face shook slightly.
“We don’t have the time for me to be dropping you and picking you up every few miles. So just hold on and stay quiet.”
Lyra nodded and pursed her lips, looking out at the forest around them.
Now that she didn’t have to watch where she was walking, she could enjoy the view.
Colossal trees with trunks the size of buildings in the villages, bushy ferns with fronds larger than her torso, and a variety of animals. Birds, chipmunks, and deer.
It was magical. And she loved it.
Her body jostled against Wilder's, and she bit her lip as her cheeks burned. With nothing else to do, she started talking again. Whether he listened or not, she didn’t care. She talked about the different birds, plants, and types of clouds she could see in the sky.
Wilder stayed quiet, but Otto, Maelys, and even Ridge joined in with her ramblings.
When Lyra asked about the land in the Wilds, both Otto and Maelys seemed thrilled.
“The forest there is crawling with an assortment of magical creatures, from unicorns to skin-walkers,” Maelys said, her eyes bright as she gestured to her forehead like she too had a horn.
“Skin-walkers?” Lyra questioned, her eyes growing wide with fear.
“Nasty creatures,” Otto replied, shivering. “They’ll flay you alive to wear your skin.”
“That’s horrific!” Lyra cried.
Wilder snorted, but didn’t add to the conversation.
“Are there really unicorns?” she asked, but tried to disguise the hope in her voice.