Bea
Ido not fall asleep until the sun is peeking above the horizon, and even then, I’m not granted rest. The black of my restless sleep morphs, and suddenly, I’m in a cottage. Sunlight filters across old wooden planks, and a rhythmic tapping sounds from the corner of the room.
I’ve been here before.
The fragmented pieces of my sight grow sharper, the picture coming into focus.
A woman sits at a loom, but her face is hidden behind the frame.
She’s humming, and beneath the melody is the sound of rippling water.
I crane my neck to look out the window, trying to see where we are, but there’s nothing but sky out the window.
We must be on a hill. I try to move towards the woman, but my feet are stuck in place.
“Show your face,” I beg her, but she doesn’t hear me, remaining hidden behind the large loom she works at.
There's a knock at the door, and the tapping stops.
She stands, and I get a flash of her wrist. Where her dedication dàn would sit, there is a long, puckered scar.
Hints of black peek around the edges of it, but I'm not able to discern which Fate she was dedicated to.
Whoever it was, the dàn is too disfigured to recognize.
The woman's back is turned to me as she opens the door. She doesn’t seem afraid, but still, my stomach tightens. I know what happens next. I’ve seen it.
“I didn't think I'd see you so soon,” she says. A shadow falls in the doorway, but I cannot see who’s causing it.
And then the dream shifts, the edges growing fuzzy. A blade slices across the woman's throat, and she falls, twitching on the floor. Blood pools around my feet, and I open my mouth to scream, but no sound comes out. It is horrifying, this helplessness. Even in my dreams, I cannot escape it.
The shadow moves forward, the outline of a body appearing, and then, I am awake.
I sit upright in a cold sweat, bile rising up my throat.
“Hello. Are you alright?”
I jump. Someone’s here, but that is not Brennen's voice.
“It's only me,” they say. The sound scratches at my mind, and I find that even though I cannot place it, I don’t feel afraid. I smooth my hair down and peek through the tent flaps.
Theo stands on the other side of the fire, his brows creased with concern.
“I thought I heard shouting. Is everything okay?” he asks.
I sag with relief. “Theo, hi. I was having a nightmare. That's all,” I clear my throat. “Is there something I can help you with? Brennen isn't here, if you're looking for him.”
“I ken. He asked me to check on you if he wasn't back by yesterday. I havenae seen him, so I thought I should come by.”
“He had urgent news for the Cutter.” I try to sound calm and confident, but if Brennen had warned Theo to come if he hadn't returned, did that mean he was anticipating danger?
“May I?” he asks, gesturing toward the almost extinct fire. His breath comes out in white puffs, and I hurry over to it, throwing on some kindling.
“Of course. Please, sit,” I say, leaning forward.
Slowly, I exhale, blowing onto the wood. It ignites instantly, and Theo's eyebrows arch in amusement.
“The Washwoman can breathe fire?” he asks. “That isnae a part of your tale.”
“Well, seeing as I wasn't able to do it until I took Brennen's dàn of warmth, I suppose that makes sense.”
He leans back, surprised. “You really took his dàn?”
“Well, I didn't mean to,” I say. My voice comes out defensive, and he raises his hands, laughing.
“Even if you did, why should I care? Looks to me like he has more dàn than the rest of the village combined. Seems fitting for him to share some of that power.”
His voice is light and jovial, teasing, and I relax, my defensiveness melting away.
“Well, when you put it that way.” I throw a few more logs on to keep the fire going.
“I brought you something.” He tosses me a bag.
There's a crinkling noise inside, a clacking, and I open it hesitantly. Inside are assorted sweets, licorice, and hard candies, along with other types I've never seen before.
A wide smile breaks out across my lips.
“Felt it was time I repay you for helping me all those years ago,” he says, his smile matching my own.
“I was happy to do it,” I say. I don’t wait, popping a glossy red piece into my mouth. The sweetness of the sugar almost makes me cry, and I press it between my tongue and cheek, savoring it. “Would you like one?” I ask.
“No. You keep them; I have plenty more. Do you know when Brennen will return?” he asks, and I shake my head.
“He left so quickly, he didn't tell me much at all. Why do you ask?”
Theo clears his throat, looking away.
“The Cutter's men arrived this morning. I have near a dozen of them seeking lodging in my tavern as we speak.”
My heart starts to thunder, my eyes darting around the tree line.
“They dinnae know where you are. At least I don't think so. I'll make sure you're safe.”
“Thank you,” I say, breathless.
He nods. “They're asking about Brennen.”
I go still. “What about him?”
“How often he comes to town. If he seems fond of you.”
Heat creeps up my neck. “That's ridiculous. He's here to find a way to kill me.”
Theo raises his eyebrows. “Are you so sure about that?”
“He hasn’t told me otherwise,” I say, even though those three words, fond of you, cause my breaths to go shallow and my heart to race.
Theo sighs, rubbing a hand across his scruff. “I dinnae like the way they're prodding and prying. Is Brennen in some sort of trouble?”
Dread fills my stomach. “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I hope not.”
Theo nods. He leans forward, taking a second to warm his hands by the flames. “As nice as this fire is, I should be getting back in case more come.” He stands, pausing. “I don't like having Cailleach’s Dìdeanair here.”
Defensiveness surges in my chest, hot as flames. “Brennen is a good man,” I say.
“I agree. I’m no speaking of him, but these other guards... I dinnae trust them.”
I hold his gaze, my stomach twisting. “You shouldn't.”
He gives me a sharp nod. “I won't. Be well, Bea.” He turns to leave, but I stop him.
“Wait. Aside from the soldiers arriving, have you heard any other news?”
He crosses his arms. “Like what?”
“The women who are disappearing. Have there been any more in the past few days?”
He tilts his head, crossing his arms. “Aye. There are rumors of one from Gloscan two days ago.”
My mouth goes dry, and it takes effort to ask my next question. “Was it a tailor's daughter?”
His eyes widen. “How could you possibly know that?”
“I don't,” I stutter, unsure if I can trust him, what's safe to tell him. “Something is happening. I can’t explain it, but you need to be careful with the Cutter’s men there. As do the women in the village. If you get news of any others, will you let me know?”
He nods his head, chewing on his cheek. I can tell he wants to ask more, but he restrains himself.
“I will,” he says. “You be careful, as well.”
But it is not my safety I worry about as he walks away. It is his. Brennen's. And every young woman in the kingdom, because none of them are safe.
Someone is killing them, and I fear that I may be the only one able to stop it.