The Child Wound in Gold
Page 2
Issy snatched it up, clutching the now muddy veil to her chest as she wailed.
“I will not risk my life for a pile of scraps and rubbish. When you have something of value to offer, contact the Convocation. Until then, good luck.” The magician kicked his horse to move, but the crowd didn’t open a path.
“You can’t just leave us here to die!”
“We won’t let you ride away!”
“You’re nothing better than a murderer.”
Rena grabbed Issy around the waist, carrying her crying sister away. There was never any good to be gained in begging a monster for mercy.
No matter if the monster’s magician or rammoc.
“Make him stay,” Issy coughed through her tears. “Rena, make him stay.”
“Clear a path at once!” the magician bellowed.
Rena broke through the back of the crowd as a crackling zap sounded behind her.
The heat of the spell hit her before the force of the magic knocked her to the ground. Rena twisted, trying to protect Issy with her own body, but there wasn’t time.
A bright light flashed. Screams of fright mixed with the thudding of hooves as the magician’s horse charged away.
“Issy.” Rena pushed herself up on shaking arms. “Issy!”
“I w-want F-Father.” Issy crawled to her sister, the veil thrown over her shoulders and head like a cape. Issy sobbed but seemed oblivious to the horrible burning of the spell.
“You’re all right.” The skin on Rena’s hands had turned bright red and tightened with the heat of the spell as though she’d held her hands too close to a fire.
But Issy huddled in her sister’s arms unharmed—her dress muddy, her face red and shining with tears, but untouched by the magician’s cruel spell.
“We have to find s-something else to p-pay him with,” Issy hiccupped. “M-make him come back.”
“He isn’t coming back.” Rena’s back ached in protest as she lifted her sister. “We’re on our own, Issy. The magicians won’t help us anymore.”
Rena sat at the cracked table in the kitchen. They’d set the stove back up well enough to not smoke them out or catch the remaining walls on fire, though the night air drifting freely through the house stole most of the heat away.
Issy slept curled in a filthy ball by the stove. Rena couldn’t allow herself the escape of sleep. Not with the wall open enough to allow talons to reach through and grab them without warning. Not when Father still hadn’t come home.
I should have made her sleep in the pit. Better to be a little cruel than to leave her so vulnerable.
Rena stared down at her sister, trying to find the strength to wake her.
Issy’s mud-covered dress had dried by the fire. The material of it was filthy but not singed. Her skin showed no signs of the aching burns that covered Rena. If she were clean, she could have been a child asleep after a normal day of running outside.
Rena looked down at her own sleeves. The material was brittle and tinged black from the magician’s spell. Even Rena’s hair had crisped. Running her fingers gently over the tangles sent a cascade of singed hair falling to the floor. There was no pretending the magician’s spell hadn’t touched her.
It could have been worse. He could have killed you all. He could have hurt Issy.
There was no reason for the spell to have dodged around her little sister. The magician wouldn’t have shown pity to one little girl while condemning the rest of the village.
It was the veil.
There could be no other explanation.
Those closest to the spell had been blistered. Even the houses showed signs of the terrible heat. Only Issy, covered by the lace of the veil, had come out unharmed.
Issy slept with the veil by her side. Rena crept over, avoiding the creaks in the half-torn-through floorboards, lifted the veil slowly away, and tiptoed to the other side of the room.
With one shake, all the dirt fell away, leaving the white lace woven through with gold looking as though the horrible day hadn’t happened at all.
Rena laid the veil out on the table and grabbed the largest knife from the wall.
Mother, forgive me.
With as much force as she could muster, Rena dragged the blade across the lace. Her heart caught in her throat as she waited for the threads to tear. But the white and gold stayed strong, not even fraying at the touch of the blade.
Forgetting to be quiet, Rena ran to the stove, flinging open the metal door.
“Rena,” Issy grumbled as Rena knelt in front of the fire. “Rena, no!”
Rena stuck the edge of the lace into the flames.
One, two, three…
“Rena, stop it!”
…eight, nine, ten.
“Rena, you’ll burn it.”
“No, I won’t.” Rena pulled the fabric from the flames. It was perfect. Unmarked by soot, undamaged by fire. Rena touched the bit of the veil that had lain in the flames only seconds before. The fabric was as cool as the night itself.
“How did you do that?” Issy squeezed the veil in her hands.
“I didn’t do it,” Rena said. “It’s just how the veil was made.”
“The magicians made it like that?”
“They must have.” Rena closed her eyes as her fingers searched the edges of the veil, feeling for the tiny imperfection of the knot that held the threads together. “They made the veil so it couldn’t be torn.”
“Why didn’t the magician want it then?” Issy asked.
“Because the Convocation can make more.”
A tiny nub in the lace at the bottom corner stopped her fingers.
“But if it can’t be burned, then he should have told us.” Issy’s forehead wrinkled. “He should have told us that it’s more than something pretty mother left us.”
“And risk us knowing what the Convocation had accidentally given us?” Rena grabbed the knife from the table, digging the point into the center of the knot, slowly working the delicate thread.
“What are you doing?” Issy asked as the knot loosened, freeing an end of the thread.
“I’m going to do what they won’t do for us.” Rena pulled the thread, wrapping it around her fingers as it came loose, swallowing her tears as the pattern began to disappear. “I’m going to save us.”
The blood seeping from her hands didn’t bother her. Choosing to bleed had freed her from fear. The cuts the ropes had left on her palms were marks of her work, of all their work.
“She’ll scent you,” Father begged. “You need to get into the pit.”
“I’m not going.” Rena spoke softly, her head cocked to the side as she listened for the sound of massive wings. “I built it, I’m staying with it. Besides, we want her to come.”
Her creation didn’t look like much in the fading sunlight. A wide web hung fifteen feet in the air, the thin traces of golden thread impossible to see as it wound around the thick ropes.
“Your blood on the ropes will be enough.” Father took her arm. “We can’t leave Issy alone in the pit. What if she can’t muscle the door up on her own?”
“Then go to her,” Rena said. “I’m staying.”
A screeching caw split the air.
“Rena—”
“Father, you go. I’ll be fine.”
Her father stood in the tattered field behind their house, looking from his older daughter to the barely standing house that hid the younger. “I’m not leaving.”
The braying of animals carried from a field just out of sight. Their screams sent tingling energy through Rena’s fingers. Her father ran to her side, betting his life on his child’s work.
For all the world, it looked like they stood unprotected in a field, waiting to die. The thin pattern of ropes crisscrossing overhead was nothing more than a spider web to a rammoc.
“We’re here,” Rena’s words came out barely louder than a whisper. “We’re here!”
A roaring caw answered Rena’s shout.
Great gusts of wind shook the t
ops of the trees as the rammoc came into view.
“Down here!” Father waved his arms over his head. “Do your worst, you murderous beast!”
The rammoc circled high above, keeping its beetle black eyes on them.
“Come on, you coward!” The taunt felt foolish on Rena’s tongue.
Beak open in a screech of rage, the rammoc dove toward them.
We should have hung the net higher. I should have made Father go to Issy.
There was no time to fix any mistakes that might have been made. The rammoc tucked in its wings, diving toward its prey with a speed neither purra nor magician could match.
The net bowed as the beast’s beak struck the web, bringing the ropes around its tail. The great bird fell to the ground ten feet in front of Rena, screaming its rage.
Giant, black wings pinned to the rammoc’s sides, its scarlet tail feathers pinched in the tight loop at the top of the net. The beast barely had room to wiggle, but still it fought against the ropes.
Rena’s father took her shoulders, pulling her away as the rammoc’s talons tore at the net. Her lungs froze as the monster’s jaws clamped down on the rope and she shook her head with enough force to tear a person in two.
A minute passed, then another as the rammoc thrashed on the ground, trying to break free of the net, desperate to spread its wings.
With a final, visceral cry, the beast lay still, its eyes trained on Rena.
Bound in ropes with a sliver of gold running round the fibers, it was nearly possible to believe the monster wasn’t evil. That it hadn’t slaughtered so many from their village.
“We should kill it.” Father stepped up, knife in hand. “Rammoc meat might be edible.”
“Don’t,” Rena said, staring right into the bird’s eyes. “We should keep her alive.”
“What for? To see if it can break out and kill us?”
“We’ll bring her to the Convocation.” A smile touched Rena’s lips. “Show them and every other village on the way what we’ve done.”
The animals stirred in the field, scenting the rammoc’s stench on the breeze. There was no way to tell them the time for hiding had ended. The time of helpless terror had passed.
“What do you think the Convocation will say when you dump a monster on their doorstep?” Father asked as Issy ran out of the house, covered from head to toe in dirt from the pit.
“I don’t care what they say. We don’t need them.”
Issy darted around the rammoc, leaping into Rena’s arms.
“I’m not begging for magicians’ help anymore.” Rena pressed her cheek to her sister’s hair. “We can take care of our own now. We’ve got everything we need.”
* * *
THE END
* * *
Read on to peek into the adventure ofGirl of Glass, now available for free download from your favorite online ebook retailer.
Girl of Glass
Nola dug her fingers into the warm dirt. Around her, the greenhouse smelled of damp earth, mist, and fresh, clean air.
Carefully, she took the tiny seed and placed it at the bottom of the hole her finger had made.
Thump.
Soon the seed would take root. A sprout would break through to the surface.
Thump, bang.
Then the green stem would grow until bean pods sprouted.
Bang, thump!
The food would be harvested and brought to their tables. All of the families would be fed.
“Ahhhhh!” the voice came from the other side of the glass. Nola knew she shouldn’t look, but she couldn’t ignore the sounds any longer.
It was a woman this time, her skin gray with angry, red patches dotting her face. She slammed her fists into the glass, leaving smears of red behind. The woman didn’t seem to care as she banged her bloody hands into the glass over and over.
“Magnolia.”
Nola jumped as Mrs. Pearson placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t pay her any mind,” Mrs. Pearson said. “She can’t get through the glass.”
“But she’s bleeding.” Nola pushed the words past the knot in her throat.
The woman bashed her head against the glass.
“She needs help,” Nola said. The woman stared right at her.
Mrs. Pearson took Nola’s shoulders and turned her back to her plant tray. “That woman is beyond your help, Magnolia. Paying her any attention will only make it worse. There is nothing you can do.”
Nola felt eyes staring at her. Not just the woman on the other side of the glass. The rest of the class was staring at her now, too.
Bang. Thump.
Families. The food she planted would feed the families.
Bang.
Pop.
Nola spun back to the glass. Two guards were outside now. One held his gun high. A thin spike protruded from the woman’s neck. Her eyelids fluttered for a moment before she slid down the glass, leaving a streak of blood behind her.
“See,” Mrs. Pearson said, smoothing Nola’s hair, “they’ll take her where she can’t hurt herself or any of us ever again.”
Nola nodded, turning back to the tray of dirt. Make a hole, plant the seed, grow the food. But the streaks of blood were burned into her mind.
* * *
Girl of Glass isFree to Download from all major online book retailers. Get your free eBook today:https://books2read.com/GirlofGlass
About the Author
Megan O’Russell is the author of several Young Adult series that invite readers to escape into worlds of adventure. From Girl of Glass, which blends dystopian darkness with the heart-pounding danger of vampires, to The Chronicles of Maggie Trent, which opens the gateway to a hundred magical realms.
2019 has led Megan on a new publishing journey, which will see thirteen projects released within the year including the Girl of Glass series, The Tethering series, The Chronicles of Maggie Trent, and The Tale of Bryant Adams. To be the first to hear about new releases, free short stories, and giveaways, sign up for Megan’s newsletter here.
Originally from Upstate New York, Megan is a professional musical theatre performer whose work has taken her across North America. Her chronic wanderlust has led her from Alaska to Thailand and many places in between. Wanting to travel has fostered Megan’s love of books that allow her to visit countless new worlds from her favorite reading nook. Megan is also a lyricist and playwright. Information on her theatrical works can be found at RussellCompositions.com.
She would be thrilled to chat with you on Facebook or Twitter @MeganORussell, elated if you’d visit her website MeganORussell.com, and over the moon if you’d like the pictures of her adventures on Instagram @ORussellMegan.
Also by Megan O’Russell
The Girl of Glass Series
Girl of Glass
Boy of Blood
Night of Never
Son of Sun
* * *
The Tale of Bryant Adams
How I Magically Messed Up My Life in Four Freakin’ Days
Seven Things Not to Do When Everyone’s Trying to Kill You
* * *
The Tethering Series
The Tethering
The Siren’s Realm
The Dragon Unbound
The Blood Heir
* * *
The Chronicles of Maggie Trent
The Girl Without Magic
The Girl Locked with Gold
The Girl Cloaked in Shadow
* * *
Sweet Romance Novellas
A Midsummer Love’s Dream
Nuttycracker Sweet
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