Chapter 2
“The gods leave crumbs for mortals, so be quick to follow.
Lest they blow away.”
- The Old Book
Islipped into the sitting room, joining Kaven on the sofa. Alona was unwrapping her name-day gifts. With the same smile and laugh, she was Kaven’s mirror, just eight years younger.
She tore through the paper and gasped at the leather-bound journal she uncovered. She flipped through its thick, deckled pages with her jaw slack.
“For your watercolor paintings,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
“I love it!” Alona jumped up and ran to me. She threw her arms around my stomach and hugged me a little too hard. “Thank you!”
“Happy thirteenth name-day, Alona.” I kissed the top of her head. “Go finish.” Without hesitation, she dropped back onto the floor and resumed unwrapping.
The next gift she unveiled was a stunningly vibrant paint set and an array of new brushes. Only one person would have known to get her that.
I whipped my head toward Kaven and narrowed my eyes. Sure enough, he was beaming with pride. It had probably cost him an entire week’s worth of earnings from work at the forge. More than my measly stipend as a leather maker’s apprentice.
It was a perfect paint set for a journal he should have known nothing about.
“How did you know?”
I had kept it hidden at my mother’s house, away from Kaven’s wandering eyes.
“You hide things in the same spot every year,” he teased.
“Can’t you suppress your disdain for surprises just once?”
“Hmm,” he hummed, pretending to ponder my request. “No.”
I rolled my eyes and pinched his side. He flinched back, mock-offended.
His scent of spearmint enveloped my senses, and I sank into it.
The storm and my conversation with Grandmother Alma had rattled me. Nestling further into Kaven’s embrace soothed my nerves. His warmth cloaked me, and the sound of his heart steadied the racing pace of my own.
“Hey.” His voice was curious, but not prying.
I tried to keep the waver out of my voice when I replied, “Hey.”
But I failed.
His eyes glinted with suspicion, and I wordlessly cursed myself for being so obvious. I didn’t want him to worry about me like he often did. He had his sister and Grandmother Alma to take care of. My burdens were mine alone.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
I considered telling him what I was really thinking. But he wouldn’t understand. Kaven wasn’t as attuned to his spiritual side as I was. He often poked fun at it all. So, I settled for a half-truth.
“I want to go upstairs.”
It wasn’t a lie. I needed to get away from the crowd of people who were magnifying my anxiety. I longed for a quiet place to unwind. My body felt far too tight.
Kaven grabbed my hand and squeezed; our way of saying we understood.
“Well, we showed our faces. That should be enough.”
He helped me stand, supporting my nervous legs. I followed him up the stairwell to his bedchamber. He quietly closed the door and clasped his hands behind his back, watching me with intense focus.
I stared at his barren walls, attempting to evade his intrusive gaze.
Kaven kept his room clean of clutter and displayed very few personal items. It looked more like a guest room than someone’s bedroom. The only true sentimental item he showed was a portrait of his parents on his nightstand. They had been gone since an illness swept through our village years ago.
That’s when Kaven and I grew close. Well… Kaven, me, and Willam.
We three were always causing trouble in some form or another—like stealing Arger Brook’s crops, or swimming nude in the drinking spring. I think everyone looked past most of our actions because they pitied what had happened to Kaven and his family.
A year later, I knew exactly how Kaven felt as a recipient of everyone’s pity. A year later, Willam was taken in the Culling of our village.
I didn’t let myself linger on the portrait of his parents for too long because I knew the wound was deep.
“Today has been exhausting.” I sighed, letting myself collapse onto his bed.
“What did you and Grandmother Alma talk about?”
I kept my eyes glued to his ceiling as I spoke.
“She feels it too. Something isn’t right.”
“You know how she is. She used to bore the three of us all the time, incessantly quoting The Old Book. The woman loves to be ominous.”
I picked my head up to look at him.
“Hey, that’s your grandmother. Be kind.”
He sighed. “You don’t know what it’s like. All she does is talk about the gods and our role as the creator’s children. I just want to live my life without wondering if Our Lady is listening, watching, and approving of every decision I make.”
I laughed and rested my head back down on the sheets.
“Be careful, or she’ll report back to Anam. I don’t think you’d fare well eternally drowning in the Sea of Sorrow.”
Kaven chuckled and took his seat on the bed next to me. The laughter quickly dissipated, replaced with unspoken tension. When I looked back at him, he was picking the skin off his thumb.
“This town is so small,” he muttered.
I sat up. “What?”
He stopped picking.
“I want to leave Oak Hollow,” he admitted. “With you.”
My eyes widened, and a glimmer of panic shone across Kaven’s face.
“Kaven—” I started, but couldn’t finish. I didn’t know what to say.
His brow shot upward, and tense lines formed across his forehead. His eyes locked with mine, pleading and impatient.
“Mavis, please just listen.” He gripped my arm. “You have been taking care of your mother for eight years. I have been taking care of Alona and Grandmother Alma for eleven. We have become so accustomed to taking care of others that we have forgotten about ourselves, about our own lives.”
He held me firmly in place. I might have been shaking. A mixture of frustration, panic, and confusion whirled within me.
“We deserve something better. That’s what I want, and, gods… I hope that’s what you want too.”
“Where would we go?”
Kaven scratched the top of his head. “I’m not sure yet. Maybe the capital?”
“But you love Alona and Grandmother Alma. Why would you leave them?”
“You know I love them, and so do they. They appreciate everything I’ve done for them all these years, but they know that staying here in Oak Hollow isn’t what’s best for me—for us.”
Something inside me bristled at the idea of others gathering around to talk about my future, as if I wouldn’t want to be part of the conversation.
“And they know what’s best for me? You think you know what’s best for me?” I stood and faced him, crossing my arms over my chest. “Please tell me what that is.”
It was a challenge, making him roll his shoulders back.
“I know that spending all your time working, or reminding your mother to eat, wash—”
“You are drastically overstepping, and I caution you to choose your next words very carefully.” My words were calm but clipped.
Kaven groaned.
“You can’t keep doing this alone,” he said. “It’s killing you.”
“You would have me leave her then?”
“There are people—caretakers—who specialize in these types of situations and can look after her. We could leave and send money back for her care.” He threw his chin back in exasperation.
“You make it all sound so simple, but do you know what you’re saying? Do you understand what led to all of this? She couldn’t take it! Willam was taken, my father…” I paused, unable to finish my sentence. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I continued.
“She broke under the stress of it all. How do you think she would fare if the last member of her family were to abandon her as well? It would kill her. I will not kill my mother!”
Kaven rubbed hard at his temples as if trying to soothe a nagging migraine. Then, he looked back at me and squeezed my hand, begging for understanding. But I couldn’t give it to him.
I couldn’t believe he’d say that—as if he didn’t know what my family meant to me. It was something I thought we had in common. My duty to my family was far more important than some half-concocted dream. Chasing after another life wouldn’t make my current one disappear.
Kaven ran his hand down my arm, handling me like one would a wounded animal.
“Please, just think about it at least? That’s all I ask.” His words were a broken whisper.
“I… I have to go.”
Kaven stood. “Mavis—”
“It’s alright,” I assured him. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
I had nothing left to say on the topic. I needed to think.
He nodded, concern lacing his features. I stood on my tiptoes and planted a brief kiss on his cheek. With that, I turned around and left.
When I stepped out into the night, the torrent of rain had stopped. Crumbs of moonlight filtered through the swift current of clouds above. The Sky was making haste, and I could smell the change in the air.
I shook my head, silently cursing myself for being so superstitious. Perhaps Kaven was right; I had just been scaring myself for no good reason.
That’s all it was.
It had to be.