by Kaylee Rymer
She shook her head, muttering against his shoulder.
“Are you upset that I stormed off? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get angry.”
“You... have to see her again...”
Weegel’s hand froze mid-stroke. “What?”
Ivy looked up with swollen red eyes. “You have to find your mother and tell her you love her. It’s too late for me, but... you can still try...”
A lump formed in Weegel’s throat, and he pulled away, eyes stinging. He hadn’t cried since the night Billy died, but her words piqued every nerve in his body.
She was right. Of course she was right, after having lost her own parents, but he could never go back. Not after what happened with Duke.
Rosemary’s fat, blotchy face flew up before him, and hatred filled his gut. She really had played the victim, getting the whole town to rally behind her and disown his mother.
“I wish it were that simple,” he said, voice breaking. “But... I can never go back.”
Weegel turned towards the exit.
“Weegel... wait... don’t leave,” she said.
He stopped.
She wiped a tear. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Please stay. I want you by me.”
Weegel looked her square in the eyes. “Only if you join me in the kitchen and eat some porridge.”
It was blackmail, but it was the only way he could get her to leave her room and eat.
Ivy’s lower lip wobbled and she turned back to the wall, eyes welling with tears. Her white swirl was left unfinished, but she closed her eyes and nodded. “Okay... I’ll come.”
Weegel held his hand out, and she took it and let him lead her to the kitchen. He placed her at the table and prepared another bowl.
Ivy merely gazed into the bowl once he placed it in front of her.
“Go on,” he said.
With a deep breath, she picked up the spoon and dipped it into the porridge. Soon she finished the entire bowl and asked for another.
Weegel smiled, taking his place across the table. “I knew you could do it, Ivy. I’m proud of you.”
She gave a small smile and gazed down at her paint-covered hands. Weegel studied her. It was good to see a bit of her old self returning, but she still seemed a little apprehensive.
His mind wandered back to what she’d said about his mother, and he rubbed his forehead. “I... did go back once.”
She looked up, eyes wide.
“About a year after I left the farm. I can still remember the day vividly. I walked up to the window, and there were Mother and Grandpa, cooing over a newborn.” He scoffed. “Seemed I was right. After I left, Mother and Grandpa’s lives returned to normal. The way Mother gazed down at that baby... I couldn’t take that away from her. I’d ruined her life. Made the whole town despise her for keeping such an abhorrent son. The town stopped taking produce from my grandfather, and all the farmhands left. He lost money. He also had to sell his prized sheep, his wool, but when I returned the farm was flourishing. White sheep dotted the fields, and golden stalks wafted in the breeze again.”
Weegel stopped, the pain becoming too much. It had been like he’d never existed.
Ivy watched him with shining eyes.
“So, you see, going back would be selfish. Mother met a man, something she couldn’t do while I was still around, and had a new child. She’d already lost one before I came into her life, so I knew what that baby must have meant to her. I never even stayed to find out whether it was a boy or a girl, but something about its little carrot top head told me it was female. Looks as if she’d finally got herself a daughter. She always wanted one.”
Ivy shut her eyes. “Oh, Weegel... I never knew.”
He sighed. “It’s fine. You were just grieving.”
She gazed down into her empty bowl, a shaky breath leaving her lungs. “What... what did you do to make the whole town hate you?”
Weegel shuddered. “If I told you, you’d lose all respect for me.”
She shook her head. “I never would.”
He looked into her eyes and saw nothing but love and sincerity. Suppose she deserved to know a little. “You know how the girls at Chars-town always laughed and made fun of you whenever you passed?”
Ivy nodded, understanding in her eyes. “Bullies?”
Weegel remembered the look on Duke’s frightened piggy face and sniggered. “Yeah, except they did far more than laugh at me. Beat, punched, kicked, everything. One thing led to another, and... well, you’ve seen me when I’m angry.”
Ivy cast her eyes down. “I hate bullies.”
Weegel drummed his fingers. “Me too.”
They never spoke any more on the subject. Ivy chewed on her fingernails, gazing around nervously.
Weegel kept his eyes on her. She still appeared a little unsettled, but of what exactly?
He pulled out a piece of rabbit jerky from his pocket and put it in his mouth. He’d had it several weeks now, but it was all the meat he had.
Ivy stared at the rabbit jerky, curiously. “Can I have some?”
Weegel coughed up his jerky and gawped at her as if she’d grown an extra head. “You want meat?”
She nodded a simple yes.
Weegel’s chin hung loose. “Goodness. You really are a different Ivy.”
She sat up and gave him a hard, determined stare. “Well, I need my strength after all.”
He raised a brow, impressed. Where had the sudden change in attitude come from?
Weegel passed her a strip and watched as she drew it to her lips. She took a bite and shrugged. “Not bad.”
He leaned back, shaking his head in disbelief. “If only I’d known you were going to convert back to meat sooner. I let a deer go this morning. We could be eating a juicy leg of deer now instead of these salty strips.”
Ivy’s eyes shimmered in the candlelight. “You let a deer go?”
His face flushed, and he pulled on the collar of his shirt. “Yes. He... reminded me a little of you.”
She stared in wonder. Weegel’s heart wouldn’t stop thumping. He must sound like a lunatic, a romantic lunatic, but it was the truth. He saw her stupid eyes everywhere now.
“Thank you,” she said. “It really means a lot to me.”
Her eyes still had that weird shine, and he had to look away before he lost himself inside her green irises.
Weegel held up another strip. “You want another piece?”
She looked at the jerky and shook her head. “No, you have it. I’ll have more tomorrow.”
He shrugged and shoved the jerky in his mouth.
At least she was already thinking about tomorrow.
THAT NIGHT THEY LAY in Ivy’s bed together. She pressed her nose close to his, brushing a hand through his hair.
“I really did mean what I said,” she whispered. “I do love you, Weegel.”
His heart gave a little jolt. “And I meant it too. I’ll never leave you.”
She grinned and leaned in to kiss him. Weegel closed his eyes, enjoying the softness of her lips.
Now she laid her head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat. “For what it’s worth, I think your mother would have been happy to see you.”
Weegel smiled at the ceiling. He soon drifted off, falling asleep with the scent of her hair.
HE WOKE SOMETIME IN the night again, cold and shivering, and turned to his left.
Ivy was gone.
He searched the room and gasped when he met the face of an ominous wolf. It had white swirls for eyes, and he gulped, remembering Ivy with that paintbrush yesterday.
It seemed she wasn’t painting absentmindedly after all.
His heart rung through his ears and he ran down to the kitchen, pausing at the sight of a note.
Ivy’s diamond-studded necklace sat on top. He snatched up the note and began to read.
Just two words.
I’m sorry.
Weegel dropped the note, swaying on the spot. His eyes landed on his knife rack. His skinning knife was missin
g.
Ivy...
He grabbed his bow and quiver and rushed out into the night.
Hopefully, he wasn’t too late.
26. Ivora
A cold, miserable grey light filtered through the trees, but Ivora pressed on, determined to leave the safety of the mountain behind.
No more hiding. Today would be the day she finally overcame her fears and faced Astor.
She knew he was still out there, lurking in the trees, waiting. The knife she’d taken from Weegel’s kitchen lay ominously inside her pocket.
Ivora didn’t know what she planned to do with the knife, but she couldn’t leave empty-handed. After all, this man had killed her parents; she had to protect herself. But could she really kill him? He didn’t deserve to live, true, but would she be prepared to take a life? The life of her uncle?
One way or other, it may have to end in bloodshed. Ivora may not survive.
She took a deep breath and kept her eyes on the trees ahead. Almost to the spot.
Leaving Weegel had to be one of the hardest decisions she’d ever made. A tear dripped from her eye. He didn’t need her tying him down. This was her fight, not his. It was her who Astor wanted in the end.
That’s why she let Weegel keep the necklace. Without her, he can continue his dream to find other worcogs and live happily ever after. Maybe he can rekindle things with his mother and grandpa too and meet his little sister.
Finally, she arrived at her destination. Belle’s grave lay at the base of the tall pine. Flowers and vines weaved around its bark, feeding on Belle’s magic, and Ivora smiled.
Flowers in winter. How poetic.
Ivora closed her eyes. Weegel had done this for her. Without her knowing, he had gone out of his way and buried her beloved horse, and Ivora had never been more touched by anyone’s kindness.
She had changed his heart, there was no mistaking it. Before he’d been a callous monster who only looked out for himself, but then he had fallen for her, and she’d fallen for him, and now they were absolutely perfect for each other.
Ivora looked around the forest and shivered. What was she thinking?
She turned back towards the mountain, stopping dead in her tracks.
A pair of silver eyes seemed to float amongst the shadows, and every muscle in her body tensed.
She squeezed her eyes shut, counting to ten. It was just her mind playing tricks on her. That’s all. Nothing new.
The shape grew in size, morphing into a large four-legged beast, and her heart beat faster.
Just her imagination.
The creature stepped out from the shadows. Branches cracked beneath its paws, but Ivora couldn’t stop staring at its snarling fangs.
Those silver eyes mocked her, and she backed up slowly into the solid frame of Belle’s tree. The beast’s hot breath brushed over her cheeks as it drew nearer, and now she had nowhere to run.
It snapped its jaws inches before her, sniffing her face with its big wet nose. Then it chuckled, a low, dark sound, and she finally found the courage to speak.
“I... I know who you are...” she whispered.
The wolf froze and closed its mouth.
“H-hello, Astor...”
The silver eyes widened, and all sound seemed to cease.
Ivora breathed rapidly as the beast stared in shock. It seemed she’d stunned her uncle into silence.
A strange coughing originated from the wolf’s throat, and then it burst into a fit of cackles.
She watched in horror as the mad wolfman cackled before her. Ivora peered to the right and started inching back towards the mountain. Hopefully, she could escape before the wolf stopped laughing.
The cackling stopped, and Ivora froze.
The wolf snapped behind her, and she broke into a run. Unfortunately, it pinned her down with its massive paws, and she squirmed under its hold.
Its teeth went for her face, and she reached into her pocket, grabbed the knife, and plunged it into the wolf’s shoulder.
It reeled back, warm blood dripping from its shoulder and onto her face, and she scrambled up to her feet.
Astor’s eyes shone bright silver as he glared up at her. “You’ll regret that,” she snarled.
Wait... she?
Every hair on Ivora’s body rose on end as she backed away into the forest. All this time, she was dealing with a she-wolf. There was no denying that woman’s voice behind the growl. Half dog, half woman.
The wolf lunged forward, but collapsed halfway, chest heaving and rising as the knife poked out from her shoulder. Blood poured freely, and Ivora shut her eyes.
She had done that.
Ivora was nothing but a killer now, just like her dear uncle.
She opened her eyes again, eyes brimming with tears. “I’m sorry, but... you made me do it.”
The wolf panted like a dog, and Ivora turned to the mountain, unable to look anymore. But then she paused, taking slow, steady breaths.
The she-wolf didn’t deserve to die alone, no matter what she’d done. She was still a life, and that life was slowly slipping away.
Ivora knelt down beside the wolf and whispered softly. “Who are you?”
The wolf spread its teeth into a grimace.
She put a shaking hand against the wolf’s fur. Soft as a dog’s.
“Tell me... please...”
The wolf opened her eyes, and Ivora gazed into those thin pupils. “I... d-don’t... don’t know why my brother w-wants you so bad...”
Ivora’s brows furrowed. “Brother?”
The wolf closed her eyes again, and Ivora shook her shoulder. “Please... tell me... who’s your brother?”
The wolf looked up, and only pain and sorrow stared back. “Your uncle. I... was tasked to bring you back to him, but... I failed...”
Ivora’s vision swirled, and she fell back, adjusting to the news. She shook her head and asked the wolf now with more force. “What does he want with me?”
The wolf’s lids folded shut, and her chest stopped heaving. She was gone.
Ivora hung her head and gave the she-wolf one last pat. Then she rose to her feet and headed back to the mountain.
A shadow loomed in the corner of her eye, and she turned, coming face to face with a pair of snapping fangs.
Before she had time to think, an arrow whizzed through the air and took out the she-wolf’s other shoulder.
Ivora whirled around, and her heart produced a series of flips. “Weegel!”
He stood several feet away, drawing another arrow. “Ivy, get behind me. It’s only pretending to be dead.”
Ivora moved towards him, freezing at the sound of a cruel, merciless laugh.
“And what have we here, then? A handsome prince coming to save the little princess from the big bad wolf? Quaint.”
The she-wolf was beside herself with laughter. Ivora had never seen a more terrifying creature. She changed back and forth between a woman and a wolf, sometimes becoming something in-between, and Ivora shuddered.
It was the thing of nightmares.
Weegel threw his hood down and exposed his horns for the she-wolf to see. “Not a handsome prince, I’m afraid.”
The she-wolf stopped and gazed at Weegel in stunned silence. “The worcog...”
“That’s right, dog, or should I say bitch. Change forms. I want to see who I’m going to kill beneath that fur.”
The wolf growled. “I’ll kill you first, you little runt.”
She lunged, blood spurting from her wounds. Weegel released his arrow, but Ivora ran forth, knocking him out the way before the wolf could clamp her jaws around his throat.
A searing pain cut through her flesh as the she-wolf’s teeth closed around her neck.
27. Weegel
Weegel stared in horror.
The wolf had locked its jaws around Ivy’s neck. Her green eyes widened in fright, never leaving Weegel as she gasped for breath.
The wolf’s teeth loosened around her neck and it collapsed, transforming ba
ck into a woman at last. An arrow poked out from its chest.
Weegel rushed to Ivy’s side and held her head in his arms. She gazed up at the forest canopy, the light slowly vanishing from her eyes.
He pulled off his cloak, pressed it against her neck, and gazed into her unfocused eyes. “Ivy... stay with me...”
She blinked, her breathing becoming thick and laboured. Her hand brushed his tear-stained cheek.
Weegel glowered up at the lifeless body of the she-wolf. She was nothing more than an ugly, scrawny woman with tangled black hair.
Ivy’s heartbeat was fading, and he pressed the cloak tighter around her neck. “Ivy... don’t leave me.”
His tears dripped onto her forehead as her grip on his cheek weakened.
“S-sorry...” she whispered.
“Ivy...?”
Her eyes closed, and she took her last breath.
Weegel struggled to breathe as the forest spun in circles. She couldn’t be dead. Any moment her eyes would flutter open, and she’d look up with those luminous greens.
Any moment now...
Her lashes remained still, and he shook her awake. “Ivy! Wake up!”
It was no use. She was gone.
Weegel howled. His lungs burned, making it hard to think straight, but he couldn’t stop.
He lifted her and buried his nose into her hair. She still smelled of honeysuckle, and he breathed her in, trying to memorise her scent.
“Ivy... why... why did you push in front of me?”
Silence.
He squeezed his eyes, and tears gushed from his lashes. It was all his fault. If only he’d kept a better eye on her and paid attention, he could have saved her.
It should be Weegel lying dead. Not her.
In his mind he saw her laughing, hearing that beautiful pealing sound, and his heart shattered.
Never again would he hear her laugh.
A strange warmth washed over him, and he gazed around. The sun had not risen yet, but the warmth still spread through the forest. A soft, gentle wind swept through the trees, and a thousand bright lights appeared.
Faeries.
They formed a circle around Weegel and Ivy, looking down with kind eyes. One fluttered down to inspect Ivy’s peaceful face and placed a tiny hand on her forehead.