8

Black smoke pours from the forge’s doors. Jadon, now wearing a long leather smock, is still working, and he grimaces as he bends a hot orange steel rod now clamped in a vise. The veins in his arms and hands push against his skin.

Fuck. After working so hard mucking, milking, and dipping, he is a welcome sight. My pulse races everywhere, from my throat to my feet.

“Kai! Just in time.” He smiles, his teeth bright against the soot.

I blink and snap out of my trance. “Huh?”

“I want to hear how your day went,” he says, “but first could you do me a favor? Could you collect wood for the forge? I need to start stacking up to make charcoal.”

“Sure.” I grab an empty pail and a hatchet near a bin of thick, dark nails. “Is this free labor or am I receiving a wage?” I ask, smiling.

He pauses and holds my gaze. “How much do you want?”

I tilt my head and arch an eyebrow. “How much do you have?”

His gaze lingers and a slow smile eases to his lips, and I smolder like his forge.

“Jadon.” I nod to the metal clamped in the vise. “Your rod’s getting hard.”

He blinks, then looks down to see that the steel rod has lost its glow. “Shit.”

I laugh and back away from him. “Any kind of wood or…?”

“Oak, beech, no pine,” he says, loosening the vise. “Appreciate it.”

I head toward the back barn doors, a smile on my face. I don’t even have to look back to know that he’s watching me…and that his rod is still hard.

In this forest, pine and birch trees abound, but there are more oak tree stumps than oak tree trunks. My throat grows tight as I gaze out at this ghost forest. I scan the ground, searching for wood that won’t require me to cut down a living tree.

Two red cardinals perch on one of those stumps. The red birds chirp and flutter their wings at me, and I say, “Makes me sad, too.” I dip my head. “But it’s nice to meet you lovelies, nonetheless.”

I grab fallen branches from the ground and start a pile.

The cardinals keep chirping.

Such pretty birds. How is it their feathers are still so shiny in this wretched town?

Once I’ve gathered a decent amount, I grab the hatchet and start chopping branches in half, using a stump as a chopping block. I grin at the cardinals. “Impressed? You two remind me of something. I’ve seen birds like you before. Don’t know where, though.”

I chop and stack, and the birds chirp and hop. “This is a lot of work,” I whisper to them. “I don’t think I’ve done this before. My hands are too soft for this kind of—”

My body freezes in place. What’s that?

I sniff. Snuffed-out candles. Night-blooming jasmine crushed underfoot. The scent is not native to Maford. It’s far too pleasant for Maford. I scan the woods, seeing only those ghostly birch trees and the death-glows of four-legged creatures.

There! Her! That old woman with the silver sparkle and the long, coiled hair—the one who gifted me the ability to hear thoughts. Nightstar Sparkle carries a golden pail as she walks through the woods. She doesn’t look as stooped as she was back in the village and has ditched the shawl for a creamy white robe. Once she sees me, she heads in my direction, her face shining like diamonds and light.

The closer she comes, the more my heart swells and the more my chest squeezes. Finally, the pressure releases once I shed a single teardrop that tumbles down my cheek.

I quickly glance behind to ensure we’re away from Maford’s magic-hating men.

Nightstar Sparkle looks different than yesterday, but somehow, she looks the same. Her face isn’t blurry, but neither is it clear. She’s magnificent , and it’s like I’m staring at four faces at the same time, each face wearing a different expression. There’s the glow and softness of joy. The flaring nostrils and flinty eyes of anger. There’s the trembling chin and wet, dull eyes of sorrow, and the popped eyebrow and open stare of awe.

Am I the only person in Maford who has seen these four faces?

Who’s seen that she’s more than human?

“Who am I speaking with right now?” I whisper, dropping the hatchet onto my stack of wood, sending several sticks tumbling.

She reaches out and touches my cheek. Her touch tingles, and my skin tingles, ultra-alive now. “I’m the only friend you have in this realm.” She gazes at me like a mother studying her child.

I’m trying hard not to cry out of confusion, relief, and hope. “What is your name?” I ask, voice quavering.

“Search your thoughts, Kai,” she whispers.

I shake my head. “But I don’t—”

“Shh,” she whispers.

I close my eyes, and my nose fills with the scents of cherry blossoms and woodsmoke. I meet her gaze. “Sybel.” I startle at this realization. Where did this memory come from? Was it her touch alone? Did it bring to the surface something I knew within my heart? The palms of my hands are clammy, but my mind feels brighter, faster. How is it possible that I’m just standing here when I feel like I’m doing more? I’m remembering.

“Lift your head, child,” Sybel says, her fingers raising my chin. “Your journey is not over. No, it’s only begun.”

“But how did it begin?” I ask, my whisper burning with urgency. “How did I reach that forest where I opened my eyes? Where was I before that? Did I fall from the sky? Am I from the nomads at Devour?”

Silver hands pushing me forward—and the sky…

Sybel shakes her head. “That ‘how’ doesn’t matter right now. The questions you should be asking are, ‘Where do I go next? Who must I become to get there?’” She holds out a hand, and now the face she wears is the one of flared nostrils. “And most importantly: ‘How will I make amends for my failures?’”

I take a step back as heat rises behind my eyelids. “ Failures? Surely, you don’t mean me knocking over Freyney’s cart—”

“Shh,” she says again and claps once, hard, and the sound bounces around the woods. “Listen, for once in your life—”

My stomach lurches at her abrupt change of tone. “How do you know that I don’t listen?”

She flashes a cold smile. “Because you aren’t listening at this very moment.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to contain my rising anger and confusion.

“If you continue to reverse everything that I’ve done for this place,” Sybel says, “that I’ve done for you—”

“Done for me?” I take another step back, shaking my head.

“Hey, Kai,” Jadon calls.

I startle, whirling toward him.

Still wearing his long leather smock, Jadon strides in my direction with a crooked grin. “I need wood today . You take the scenic route?”

I look back, but Sybel has disappeared.