“Mother?” I started to approach her, hand outstretched to touch her on the shoulder.
She gave the slightest shake of her head, and I retracted my arm.
Though I felt a pang in my heart as I watched Mother’s tears spill, I couldn’t help but remember the accusations of the mysterious witch. But what she had said couldn’t be true. The mother I knew wouldn’t lie to me my whole life. But then again… there had always been so much mystery around my birth. Whenever I asked about it, Mother would always tense up, and her eyes would glaze over as if recalling some painful memories. I always assumed I had an estranged father— a man who left the two of us to fend for ourselves. And I also assumed my stepbrothers had a different father. But Mother hated it when I brought up any of it.
“Mother?” I said, daring to ask her anyway. “I want to know about my father, and I want you to explain why I was this ‘gift’ to you.”
I outstretched my hand once more to touch her, but my arm was shaking from nerves. Mother took in a sharp breath at my words, and I jumped back from the abruptness of it. Her sobs had ceased, and I watched as her red, swollen face slid out of her hands.
“Why is that so important right now, Ellie?”
I shoved my palms into the folds of my frock to wipe the sweat away. I knew what I wanted to say next, but my fear of what her reaction might be prolonged my hesitation. We sat in silence for a good while before I took a deep breath and whispered:
“Are you really my mother?”
Mother’s eyes widened, and her mouth turned into an “o.” Her light brows furrowed together and drew deep lines into her forehead. I took a step backward at the sight of shock etched deeply into her face. She looked as if she had been caught in a crime. I saw a flash of guilt mixed with the tears glistening in her hazel eyes
I slowly moved forward and slunk down to kneel directly in front of her, my dress beginning to collect dust from the floor.
“Is it true?”
She bit her lip so hard, I could see bits of blood begin to dribble out of the skin. Quicker than I could even blink, she took my hands into hers and bent to press her forehead against mine.
“I did a terrible, terrible thing, Ellie,” she said. “It’s been eating at me for years.”
“Mother, you’re scaring me.”
She shook her head and grabbed my face. “Please forgive me.”
I pulled back, shocked. “Moth—”
She placed a finger against my lips. “I am not your mother.”
I shoved her hands away from me and crawled away as quickly as I could. The witch warned me about this— about her.
“No!” I cried, arms trembling as I tried to lift myself from the floor.
Mother’s— no, Lucinda’s tears spilled even heavier than before. “Ellie,” she pleaded, trying to approach me.
“No.” I held up my hands defensively. “Stay away from me.”
All of a sudden, I could not look at the woman with the love and admiration I once did, but only with disgust and disbelief. She was a liar… She had lied to me my whole life. I hurriedly glanced beside my bed for my travel bag, remembering I still had a bit of dried meat and a few coins left. I stalked over to it and threw the strap around my shoulder, then stepped briskly away to the living area.
“Ellie!” Lucinda called after me. “Please, I can explain.”
I stepped over Jacob and Jared’s chess game set on the wooden floor, ignoring their cries of annoyance.
“Leave me alone!” I hollered back.
I threw the front door open and stepped into the pitch black of outside. But this time, my anger, my frustration, my confusion… It all was too much to even think about fearing the darkness of the unknown.
And then I ran.
I could barely see where I was going as I nearly tripped over rocks, twigs, and who knows what else? I ran and ran until my lungs couldn’t take it anymore. I staggered to the side of the path and fell into the tall grass. I curled up into a ball in defense against the chill air and hugged my knees tightly, my only sense of comfort. And then they came: the tears. I sobbed and sobbed until my body was shaking uncontrollably, throat growing soar, and my eyes starting to swell.
My tears soaked the grass beneath my face as I whimpered through the night, not finding sleep until many hours later.
Chapter 9
The feeling of a stick digging into my shoulder woke me up. I tried to shrug it away, but just as soon as I did so, the poking happened again. I groaned, rolling away about a foot and nestled my face back into the soft grass. And then the poking returned. I muttered under my breath and craned my neck around to find the blasted piece of wood, then jumped upright at the sight of the witch sitting directly beside me. She was holding a long stick, more like a branch with its green leaves still decorating its end.
“Were you just poking me with that?” I said as I began to scoot away from her.
She shrugged, then rolled her eyes after the movement made her shawl fall off her shoulders. I eyed the piece of clothing. The gray material knitted into the ratty shawl could have been just as old as Bavmorda seemed to be.
I studied the sky above me and frustratedly determined it was nearly dawn.
“I have two questions. One, why did you wake me up, and so early? And two, am I imagining you?”
Bavmorda threw her head back and barked a laugh. “If you were, what would you expect a figment of your imagination to say?”
“You ignored my first question.”
“Witches can choose which questions to ignore, and which ones to answer.”
That almost made me laugh. “Is that so?”
“More or less. Now answer my question: what would you expect a figment of your imagination to say?”
“Uh… ‘yes?’”
She wiggled her eyebrows. “Then no, I am as real as the ground you’re sitting on.”
Her words made me remember where I was. I palmed my forehead and moaned. “Oh, no…”
“Yes, yes. Last night was terrible for you, I’m sure.”
I narrowed my eyes at the witch. “That sounded sarcastic.”
She smiled, but after catching the glare I gave, quickly changed it to a scowl.
“Of course I’m not being sarcastic,” she said. “Look at you. You look horrific. Hair all matted and clumpy, eyes beet red… I’m sure you were crying all night.” A line drew into her forehead with real worry as she continued: “I know you truly thought Lucinda to be your mother. And you loved her, too.”
A lump formed in the back of my throat, but I’d cried so much the night before that no more tears came out.
Bavmorda clicked her tongue. “Such a shame. I really am sorry.”
I began picking at the grass underneath my worn boots. “What now?”
The witch cracked her knuckles and sighed in satisfaction. “Well, for now, you are going to stay with a friend. Do you have any friends?” The way she winked at me as she asked the question suggested she already knew the answer.
I felt my cheeks grow hot and kept my gaze to the ground. “Just one.”
She graciously ignored my blushing and pointed a knobby finger through the trees. “Walk straight. And keep walking straight. You’ll find him.”
My eyes followed where she pointed, and I cocked my head at her directions. “That’s incredibly vague.”
Bust as I turned to question her more, she was already gone. I rolled my eyes.
“Why does she keep doing that?” I muttered, pushing myself up to stand. “Well,” I said to the trees, “I might as well do as she says.”
After an hour of pushing through the foliage of an overgrown trail Bavmorda had put me on, I was almost about to give up. Until…
“Ellie!”
I smiled as Harry rushed over to me from the bubbling creek he was drinking from. Water dripped from his hands as he outstretched his arms to hug me. Due to my own excitement, I almost moved to embrace him, but, last-minute, we both thought better of it and awk
wardly drifted away from each other.
Harry ran his fingers through his wet hair, having been washing it in the creek. “I wasn’t sure we’d ever cross paths again.”
“I know what you mean. I was kind of counting on not… crossing paths…”
He folded his arms. “You were counting on it?”
I let out a shaky breath. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me and my life.”
“You can say that again,” he said with a snort.
And then I proceeded to tell him my story. I couldn’t quite understand why, but I trusted the mysterious thief, and I felt I could truly consider him a friend. All the while, as I spoke, he shook his head in refusal to believe it.
“No, that’s too insane,” he said after I finally finished speaking. “No one kidnaps a baby and pretends to be their mother… do they? And forcing you to stay at home your whole life— never experiencing what life was like outside of that little bubble?” His eyes grew wide in realization. “Is that why you were so clueless about everything?”
I was shocked by the tear dripping down and off my nose. I hadn’t noticed I started crying. The events were still too fresh for me to look back on. Harry leaned forward to give me a hug, and this time we didn’t pull away.
“I had no idea,” he whispered into my hair.
His closeness was surprisingly comforting, and I nestled my face into his chest. He smelled of campfire and grass.
He gently pushed me away and looked sympathetically into my face. “What are you going to do now?”
I lidded my eyes, embarrassed. “I was hoping you could help me.”
“I don’t know how much I could really do.” He gestured around the entire clearing of tall grass, fat trees, and little daisies springing up from the soil. “These woods are my home. I rarely have money, and those two nights of stay in the inn were my first in a long time.”
I stared at him, eyes narrowed. “You know, I told you my story. I think it’s your turn.”
His smile immediately fell, and he took a couple steps backward. “It really doesn’t matter. It’s not a great story. Boring, really.”
“What are you hiding?” I said, stepping forward to corner him against the creek. He froze in place, afraid to trip and fall in.
“Nothing.”
I snorted. “Sure.”
Harry darted his eyes about for a quick escape route, then he looked to me. His lips twitched for a second, and his body began to shake until he couldn’t hold in the laughter any longer.
“You do a really great ‘scary,’ Ellie.”
I shuffled my feet and flushed a deep red, but I persisted: “Well?”
His arms fell to his sides in defeat. “Fine. If you must know, my parents died when I was twelve. I’ve been alone ever since.”
“I’m so sorry,” I breathed, placing my hand on my heart. “I didn’t know.”
He wasn’t making eye contact with me, but he gave a slight chuckle. “How could you? It’s just like how I didn’t know about your sad life.”
I nodded. Harry was right there. “So, what have you been doing? That must have been years ago.”
“Yeah. I’m twenty-two now. I’ve just gotten really good at survival, I guess.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Stealing, you mean?”
He puffed out his chest defensively. “I do more than that! And I only steal from people who deserve it! That man and woman from the other day tried to rob me first.”
“Oh,” I said, ashamed that I had assumed otherwise.
“What I mean by surviving are things like building fires, finding shelter, hunting, though I’m not the best at the ‘killing animals’ part—”
“Hunting?” I interjected. “With what? You have no tools.” I waved my hands at his ensemble of faded tunic and trousers that lacked a weapon of any sort.
“Here, follow me.”
I didn’t move to follow as he began moving upstream. Where, or what, could a man with seemingly nothing have to show me?
Harry turned around with a goofy grin on his face. “Come on!”
I shrugged to myself, lifting my long dress out of the way to avoid getting the hem wet from the muddy bank. Somehow, I really needed to find more suitable clothing for travel. Especially now that I had no home.
After about two minutes of walking, Harry and I reached a small, aging willow tree with a mossy overhang that covered a patch of lighter green grass than the other areas in the woods. On the ground were a few blankets, a simple bow and sheath of arrows, and a splintering barrel of a variety of fruits and vegetables. Though, the food seemed to be getting low in supply.
Harry pushed aside the mossy overhang and held it open to allow me to step through after him. The shade the space provided was refreshing. Harry dramatically spun around the area with arms open wide.
“Welcome to my humble abode! I tend to move around a lot, but I’ve actually stayed here for a couple weeks now.”
I whistled, impressed. “This actually seems kinda nice.”
“Kind of!” He feigned an offended gasp. “It’s fit for a king!”
I giggled, appreciating his sense of humor. Harry was actually helping me to forget what happened with my moth— with Lucinda. And then I thought of something:
“Harry,” I asked, “if you’ve been roaming these woods for so many years, how is it that you never found our cabin?”
He rested a hand on his chin, deep in thought. “Wait!” he said, snapping his fingers. “I think I did.” His face grew dark, and shadows crossed the angles in his jaw. “But I learned the hard way that I should avoid other people’s homes.”
I opened my mouth for more explanation as to what might have caused such a dark memory, but he was up and bouncing around before I could ask for it. I decided it was best to keep some things a secret.
“Anyway, you can stay here with me!”
I watched, amused, as he laughed and pranced about moronically, but I couldn’t help looking over my shoulder. I was still very close to Lucinda and… well, I guess they really weren’t my brother, let alone stepbrothers. After waiting for a reply from me and not getting one after many seconds, he continued:
“I’ll make you a different bed, of course!” he assured me. “And we’ll do something to create some privacy.”
“I can’t,” I whispered.
He stopped bouncing as his face fell. “Why not? Don’t you need my help?”
I lifted my chin to meet his brilliantly amber eyes that looked to have been drizzled with dollops of honey.
“I do need your help,” I said. “But I want to get as far away from Moth— Lucinda as possible. Maybe…” I paused, not sure if what I was about to say next would be a good idea.
“Maybe what?”
“Maybe it’s time I learn who my real parents are.”
Harry gawked at me. “How are we going to do that?”
I shrugged. “I think a good place to start would be going back to Newvein.”
Chapter 10
Newvein was just as overwhelming, yet incredibly beautiful as before. This time, knowing more of what to expect made navigating through the busy crowds a little more bearable.
“What are we even planning on doing?” Harry shouted to me over the noise.
He had been a little wary of leaving his peaceful nook once again, but he was also more than willing to provide me with any help he could. He refused to let me go to Newvein by myself, but he was right: we had no plan. I reached over to grab his arm and pulled him to the side of the road.
“Can we stop somewhere? Maybe another inn, or something.”
“Ellie, I don’t have any money.”
I pulled out the old coin purse Jacob and Jared gave me less than a week before. The coins jingled together in my grip. Harry let out a long breath in relief.
“How much?” he asked.
I pulled his palm out and placed the coin purse inside of it. “You can count it. I don’t know a lot about money.”
; With his free hand, he squeezed my shoulder. “Of course. Let’s move where fewer people could be watching. We don’t want to deal with any pickpockets or thieves.”
“I’m sure you of all people would know,” I teased.
He stuck his tongue out at me playfully, then led me away from the busiest parts of town to where fewer merchants’ stalls were set up. There was hardly any part of the capital without any booths, customers, and travelers, but there were some slightly less congested areas.
Harry poured the few coins into his hands, the clinking of the metal echoing down the cobbled streets. Some eyes turned to us, but after a moment or two, we went back to being ignored.
“Well, we’ve got three gold, one silver, and five copper pieces.” He clicked his tongue. “This might cover two or three nights in the city, but not any more than that. Prices are a lot steeper in Newvein than on the outskirts and outside of it.”
I pursed my lips, trying to think. Sure, we could stay a couple nights somewhere, but what after that? I wanted to find my parents, but I didn’t even know where to start. And I didn’t know if they would even be in Newvein, or if… if they were alive.
Harry noticed the sad look on my face and grabbed my shoulders. He flashed me a brilliant smile and winked.
“We’ll figure something out, Ellie. I promise.”
I hoped he was right.
After finding the smallest and least nice-looking inn in town, we entered in the hopes that we would find decent rates for rooms. The atmosphere was very similar to the first inn I stayed at with merry drinkers and musicians singing and playing their instruments. But the difference, however: this space was a good deal smaller, so the guests eating and chattering loudly filled the building to the brim. I inhaled deeply through my nose to calm myself, then began to cough violently from the strong aroma of what I could only assume was alcohol.
Pumpkins and Princesses (The Tales and Princesses Series Book 3) Page 5
