Whatever Elric’s father wanted, he’d say it soon enough. He’d always been a blunt man. Today he had a grave look on his face. “I’ve just been to see our lord,” he said. “I have it all arranged.”
Elric backed up a step. “What are you talking about?” Yes, they were all sworn to lord and land, and forced to work to pay their tribute or face the ugly consequences. But unless enemy soldiers were sacking the village, there was little reason to seek out the attention of the castle. In Elric’s opinion, staying far away from that place was a good idea.
“You haven’t heard?” His father looked genuinely perplexed, as if he suddenly didn’t know what he should say. That was a rare thing.
“Heard what?” Elric was growing frustrated.
“Your mother is dead,” his father said. “I buried her three days ago, poor soul.”
Elric didn’t hear the words. He felt them. They stabbed deep, like sharpened pikes aimed at his heart and piercing through his stomach. His mother, dead? She couldn’t be gone. She was too strong. She had managed to live in the woods in secret and raise Wynn on her own, which was a miracle.
Elric’s father placed a hand on his shoulder, as if that gesture could take away the shock and the pain inflicted by his words. “It’s a terrible pity, and I’m sorry. I was quite fond of Hild in her youth, before, well—” He scratched his head. “Before everything went so very wrong between us. Still, she was my wife, and I kept her secrets. I was loyal to her. I don’t want you to forget that. And now you don’t have to worry. Everything is taken care of.”
A second wave of dread washed over Elric, pulling him out of his shock. “What is?”
“The changeling, of course,” his father said. “I have sold her. Perhaps now good fortune might return to this place.”
Elric’s father clapped him across the back, signaling the end of the conversation.
Wynn.
“You sold her?” His mind raced through all the terrifying possibilities.
His father’s expression turned hard, the way it always did when Elric questioned his wishes. “I struck a bargain. She’ll change the straw and reeds on the floor of the lord’s castle. She can keep the scraps she finds under the tables and sleep on the floor of the kitchens.” He contorted his face into a weak grin to cover his discomfort. “It’s a simple task, one she can manage without a problem. Since she looks normal enough, they shouldn’t suspect what she is as long as she doesn’t speak. She won’t be a burden and she’ll have a place to live.”
Elric’s throat tightened. “She’ll be treated like a dog!” She’d have to scrounge for leftover bones beneath tables, like she wasn’t even human. On top of that, their lord was cruel. The thought of Wynn in that place, being beaten until she lost all her teeth, filled his mind until he could no longer spare a thought for his own dead mother. “How can you do this? She’s my sister!” Elric’s heart beat fast and hard in his chest.
His father sighed. They had been having this conversation since Elric was small.
“She’s not your sister,” he insisted. “She’s a changeling, and she’s not of our blood. Your true sister was stolen as an infant by the Fairy Queen and never returned. I mourned that child long ago, as you should have. The creature they left in your sister’s place is not of us. God doesn’t make such mistakes.”
“Changeling or no,” Elric said, his voice cracking, “she’s completely innocent.”
His father’s gaze tilted up to the heavens, then dropped back to settle on Elric in anger. “If she were innocent, she wouldn’t be afflicted. Vanity caused this curse. Your mother was too proud to have a daughter, proud of all the dark hair the babe was born with. Of course the fairies would notice the child and covet it. That’s why your real sister was stolen.”
“That’s not true,” Elric said.
“You want the truth? I’ll tell you what really happened, all the things your mother never wanted you to know. I begged her to get rid of the changeling before anyone became attached to it, but Hild was stubborn. So I took the babe out in the woods in the middle of a snowstorm in the hopes that it would mercifully freeze to death. It was the kind thing to do. When your mother discovered the changeling missing, she ran out into the woods in the middle of the night. I don’t know what foul magic led your mother to the creature, but she found it and brought it back. That’s when I knew for certain what she was. Only unholy magic could have kept a baby alive alone in that snow.”
Elric stared at his father, speechless and appalled. His whole body chilled, as if he were lost in the snowy woods too. “When your mother returned to the house, it was only to pack her things. She said she was leaving, and there was nothing I could do about it. She said if I didn’t let her go, I’d never see you again. You! You’re my son, Elric. You’re the only good thing I have. I couldn’t let you go, so I let her leave and take the creature with her. I figured the changeling would die within a month or two and she’d be back. Instead your mother built her hut, planted her garden, and raised that unnatural child alone. It is a mark of my patience that I helped at all, that I’m helping now.”
Elric squared his shoulders, standing to nearly his father’s height. “Why can’t you just let her be? I’ll take care of her.”
His father’s eyebrows rose, as if the thought had never occurred to him. “You’re only a boy, not yet fourteen. You have responsibilities in the village. Who will look after the flock? One day my bond to our lord will be yours and you will have to plow the fields allotted to me. They are good fields. They are some of the most bountiful, if tended correctly. They will give you enough for you to feed your own family and carry on. That is the life you were born to have, not caring for a half-wit sister who is of no use to anyone.” His tone left no room for argument. Elric bristled.
“We cannot disappoint our lord,” Elric’s father said, his voice quieter. “I can’t afford to feed her, especially—not after this storm. And should we not give our due in tithe and taxes, we’ll suffer much worse than this.” He ran his finger over his scar. “At the castle, the girl will have food. She’ll have a warm place to sleep near the fire. I’m doing her a kindness, really.” Elric’s father reached out and placed a hand on Elric’s head. He let it slide down and cupped the back of Elric’s neck. “Don’t worry. She’s pitiful enough. They won’t beat her badly.”
Elric shrugged away from his touch. “She won’t understand.”
His father turned and began walking through the loosely scattered sheep. “Perhaps that is a blessing.”
Elric watched him walk away and felt a dread he had never known as his father strode toward the village, and closer to Wynn. His father never dallied about with anything. If he had made a decision, he’d see it done and quickly. Elric had to find her.
Yes, by everyone’s account Wynn was afflicted, but in truth she was kind, loving, and funny. She was human. She didn’t deserve this fate. No one deserved this. He couldn’t allow her to be tortured and abused for the rest of her life.
He was Wynn’s brother, changeling or no. And now he needed to protect her.
He knew all too well no one else would.
Elric glanced back at the sheep. They were close to the village now. Surely the other villagers would find the flock. The sheep wouldn’t wander far. He had to reach Wynn before his father did.
With his father following the road toward the village, Elric veered to the right and took off running across the countryside toward a shortcut he’d used before. The sheep spread out around the road, happily grazing as he ran through a muddy barley field.
The new grasses of the crop had been beaten into the mud by the storm. He struggled over the furrows in the soggy dirt until he reached the edge of a wood that stretched beyond imagining.
He’d never make it in time. And Wynn would follow their father like a lamb to the slaughter.
Elric raced as if the devil himself had come for him. The woods were unkind, lashing at him with fallen branches, patches of thorny bramb
les, and ditches swollen with water.
At last he saw his mother’s hut through the trees. His throat burned as he panted for breath. Sweat dripped down the sides of his face. He launched himself over the broken front gate and charged through the dead garden.
He burst in through his mother’s door.
No one was there but a fat black hen pecking at the floor.
CHAPTER FOUR
Elric
COLD ASHES SCATTERED ACROSS THE hearthstone and into the reeds. The dark spotted chicken let out low guttural clucks as it searched for ticks to eat. Each scratch of its claws on the hard dirt floor sent a chill down Elric’s spine. The lingering sweet smell of death twisted through his stomach, and his heart raced.
He had been living for too long in the village and out in the fields. He didn’t know the hut had gotten so bad. A bucket of filthy water festered in the corner with blood-soaked rags, a muddy, hole-ridden dress lying in a pile beside it. A large piece of Mother’s favorite clay bowl had broken off, leaving a jagged edge and a long crack down the side. Straw on the floor clumped together like a molding black rug. The neglect crushed something inside of him. He pictured his ailing mother lying on the bed. He couldn’t reconcile the image with her round face and laughing eyes. She’d always had a smile for him. Sometimes it was wide and open, as broad and warm as the love he held for her. Other times it was quiet, a hidden game between them. He would try to make her laugh, and she would pretend not to notice his antics. A slight smile that only turned up the corners of her lips always gave her away.
“What are you doing with my spoon?” she asked him, in a memory that felt as far away as the stars.
“It is not a spoon, it is my sword. I am a knight on a quest.” He swung his “sword” through the air in mock combat.
“And what sort of quest is this?” She wiped her hands on a rag before placing them on her hips. The smile was there, softly hidden behind the affection in her eyes.
“The bravest and most dangerous kind—a quest to the Silver Gate!” he said. Suddenly Wynn tumbled in through the door, tripping on her feet because she couldn’t walk well yet. She laughed as one of the chickens pecked at the folds of her skirt. She tried to hug it, but the bird ran out through the door. “Mmmmnnn!” Wynn shouted after the hen. She pushed herself up and chased after it, her arms spread wide.
Elric brandished his sword once more. “I took Wynn to the Silver Gate with me. We passed the fire and found a pond and a fairy ring in the woods. But the terrible monster Grendel chased us home. Do you have a new quest for us?” he asked.
His mother laughed as she caught the “sword” mid-swing, then picked him up in a warm embrace and kissed him on the forehead. “Just take care of your sister. Stay with her. Keep her safe for me. Will you, my brave knight?”
Elric nodded.
She put him down and ruffled his hair. “Good, now go forth on the dangerous quest to find me the perfect onion for the soup.”
Elric picked up the wooden spoon at his feet, the one he had used as that great sword, then tucked it into his belt. All that lingered in this place was the specter of death. His mother was gone. He couldn’t leave his sister here.
“Wynn!” he called out the window, hoping she was near the garden.
The chicken picked up its head and bolted away from him. It fluttered into the window and clucked in protest as he left the house.
He sucked in a deep breath of fresh air. A cold wind blew his hair so it brushed against his neck. Wynn couldn’t be gone. He had run, and Father had been walking toward the village. His journey would take three times as long if he stayed on the paths going up the hill to the village and then back down into the woods. Cutting through the woods had given him time, but not much. Where was she?
“Wynn!” he called again as he ruthlessly trampled over the remains of his mother’s precious herbs and back into the woods beyond. He skidded down a muddy slope as he called his sister’s name.
The thick curling branches of the old oaks hovered over him as the acorns and dried leaves crunched beneath his worn boots. It was a place of twisting shadows and eerie silence. That’s when he heard it, the whisper of a familiar song. He could swear he could hear several soft voices in harmony blending with the lilting tones of a wooden pipe and the low thump of drums. Particles of dust floated through the light and shadows beneath the trees. They seemed to dance to the hidden music.
He had to concentrate to hear it. It was faint, as if the melody were crossing a great distance on the wind. A tingle crept over his skin, like cobwebs brushing over the hairs on his arms and neck. He turned toward the meadow to his left and ran toward the bright area beyond the thick trunks of the trees.
Wynn!
A distance away, she knelt by a lonely pile of rocks that covered a freshly dug grave. She placed sprigs of flowers and common meadow weeds on the stones.
The melody continued, but it was only his sister singing in her sweet but off-tune voice. Strange. It had sounded like so many voices, singing in harmony.
He recognized the tune right away. It wasn’t a church hymn, but a lullaby their mother used to sing late at night when she thought they were sleeping. It told of a journey to the Silver Gate, where the Fairy Queen would welcome them home.
“Wynn?” he called. He was so relieved to see her, but he hadn’t yet recovered from the shock of all his father had told him, and now the finality of his mother’s death hit him as he stared at her grave.
His sister turned to him and immediately smiled, as if her entire world hadn’t just crumbled. Though her eyes always looked hooded and downturned, there was no hiding the excitement in them as she pushed to her feet and ran to him with her arms flung wide.
He folded her into a tight hug as she buried her face against his chest. They didn’t say anything as they held each other.
“Elric,” Wynn said against his tunic. “Mother is gone.”
“I know.”
There was nothing Elric could do to change his mother’s fate. She had only once ever asked anything of him. He swore he would keep that promise now. He would keep his sister safe.
“What do we do?” she asked.
He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back so he could look her in the eye. “We’re going to go away from here, just you and me.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “We can’t. It’s not allowed.”
He let go of her shoulders and took one of her hands, but she didn’t grip his back. “We must. It’s not safe to stay here.”
She looked at him as if he had gone mad. “The house is safe,” Wynn said, dragging her feet as he tried to pull her forward. “We can fix the roof with bark. You can stay with me now. I can feed the chickens. You can start the fire. I’ll bring you sticks.”
She forced the words out with as clear sounds as she could manage.
He gave her arm a tug. “We can’t stay at the house. Father is coming to take you away.” They didn’t have time to linger. They needed food, a knife, clothes, cloaks. How was he to manage this? He was running out of time.
“Father doesn’t like me. He told me to hide in the hut and don’t come out until he gets back. I didn’t listen.” Her brow furrowed.
Elric had to act fast. They didn’t have much time, and he didn’t know how to get her to follow . . .
Wait. Yes, he did know. “I know what we should do. Let’s go on an adventure. The way we did when we were little.” He forced himself to sound excited.
Her face eased back into its usual sweet expression. “To find the Silver Gate?” she asked.
“That’s right,” he said, remembering the game they used to play on summer days. They’d wander through the woods in search of the court of the Fairy Queen. “We’ll find the Silver Gate this time. Just follow where I lead.”
He reached out his hand. She looked at it, and her head cocked to the side the way a suspicious fox does when it isn’t sure if it should take the next step into the open. His hand be
gan to tremble as he held it out. Finally, she placed her hand in his.
Relief rushed through Elric. One day, she might be able to understand that all he wanted was to save her. He hoped she’d know. But there was no time for the truth. Their father was coming, and if he didn’t act now, it would be too late.
CHAPTER FIVE
Elric
ELRIC BURST THROUGH THE DOOR of their mother’s hut, pulling Wynn behind him. The hens scattered with a flurry of flapping wings and agitated clucks. Wynn let go of his hand and chased one toward the window while he rummaged through a box in the corner.
He grabbed a sack and then tossed one to Wynn just as the hen escaped her grasp. The sack landed on her arm and hung there. “Don’t worry about the chickens,” Elric insisted. “They’ll fatten themselves on caterpillars in the garden. We have to go, and quickly. Take anything you think we might need.”
“I’ll do a good job,” she said, then ran outside. It probably wasn’t wise to leave the packing to her. For all he knew, she’d pack something heavy and useless, like a stool. But giving her a task would keep her busy as he filled his own sack: flint, clothes, knife, food.
With his sack full, he stepped out into the garden just as their father turned the bend at the end of the path. He was walking toward the hut.
Elric dashed around the side of the hut with his heart caught in his throat. He couldn’t tell if his father had seen him. Looking back over one shoulder, he crept along the side of the house and almost collided with Wynn. He had to catch her as she stumbled backward.
“C’mon,” he whispered. He grabbed her hand and led her through the garden to the back gate. “Hurry, we have to sneak past the Grendel.”
Wynn’s face lit up at his words. He started running, pulling her along. Wynn followed as quickly as she could.
It wasn’t fast enough.
Elric dodged through the thick trees, grasping her arm to help her balance as she ran. Turning away from the meadow, he led them toward the thickest part of the woods, but the trees were old and well spaced. Father would still be able to see them.
The Silver Gate Page 3