***
The same clock that had timed my homework since the first grade ticked on the wall above the dining table, bringing dawn closer—bringing that day closer when I would suddenly have to leave my family and the only life I’d ever known.
The kitchen chairs were cold tonight and when I looked out the window onto the clearing where the tree sat, I could see the snow had fallen hard while I slept. It was uncharacteristic. It had never snowed so bad this early before. No one would go to school tomorrow. We’d get the call soon that it’d be a snow day, and everyone would celebrate. While I would pack my bags.
But not if I ran away. I could go to Alex. He’d help me. He’d hide me. He was the only person in this world that cared what I wanted for myself.
“Here.” Mom broke my thoughts with a smile, and the sugary smell of hot cocoa came under my nose, the steam warming my lips. She sat down beside me and sipped hers slowly, tasting each molecule before she placed her cup on the coaster and reached across for my hand. “April. I love you. I want you to be happy, but we made this decision together, and I thought you were on board.”
“I was. But then…”
“Then you met Alex.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “And he gave me something no one ever has, Mom. He made me see myself. He made me realize that I can have dreams that have nothing to do with our pack.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. “And believe me, I would have wanted nothing else for you, April, but we’ve made this decision now and—”
“And we can’t back out?”
Her head moved in a no.
“Mom, maybe I can run away. Maybe I can—”
Her eyes flew open, wide with worry, so I stopped speaking. She pressed her fist to her mouth and then spread her fingers out to rub her chin, lowering her hand flat to the table before her eyes met mine. “Please don’t do that.”
“Why?”
“Do you remember the story I used to tell you?”
“Which one?” I laughed a bit, because there were so many.
“The little hooded girl.”
“Yes.”
“Recite it for me.”
“Um…” I sat taller in my chair, warming my hands around my cup. “She went to the forest to visit her grandmother and was set upon by the wolf. He killed her grandmother and ate her, and then a huntsman saved them both.”
“Now tell me the pack version.”
“I haven’t heard that in years.”
“Try.”
I racked my brain. A wolf. An offering. A murder. “A gathering of crows sat outside Grandma’s cottage; a warning,” I said, rolling my eyes because this was stupid and I didn’t see how it would prove her point. “The family did not heed the warning that day. When the hunter’s daughter set off to become the alpha’s bride, dressed in a cloak of red, he could not bear to see her go.” I looked at Mom, frowning, as a fragment of the story I just accepted as child now seemed so horrific. “Ew, she was only twelve, right?”
“Yes. It was the first month after her first bleed—the age Luther traditionally took them.”
“And he’s since started taking them later to avoid issue with the law?” I added, still trying to remember it all.
“Yes. Now this is the important bit. Tell me what happened next to the little hooded girl?”
“Before her journey across the mountain pass ended, she was snatched by her father. He intended to flee the lands with his family and never return. But the wolf caught them as they ran. There was a fight, and the hunter emerged victorious, stabbing the wolf in the heart.
“He ran home with his daughter, expecting to find his family packed and ready to leave, but instead he found a trail of blood. At the end of it he discovered his wife, and their three sons. Dead. And his mother, an old woman, murdered in the bed where she’d been lying.
“The alpha presented himself then. No wounds to speak of, as if he was a different man, while his shirt hung open and torn where the dagger had earlier pierced his heart.”
“He cannot be killed, Red.” Mom leaned in and picked up my hand, squeezing it. “And this story is told as warning to all who seek to back out of a deal. You have been chosen now and there is no escape. He will kill everyone you love. And then…” her voice trailed off, and I thought about the ending of that story.
The hunter was killed, and his daughter forced to marry the wolf anyway. She went on to bear thirteen sons before he slit her throat as his last act of revenge.
Mom was right.
Alex was right.
I should be running away to live my own life.
But I could not back out of this deal. There was no running from it now.
The sun came up behind the tower on Alex’s house then, and I could see him in there, his elbows on the windowsill, looking out over the town.
“Where are you going?” Mom asked as I pushed my chair back and stood up.
“I have to say goodbye to Alex.”
***
I was distraught by the time I reached his back door. I hadn’t even put shoes on, and my toes were so cold from trudging through the snow that they hurt when I stepped into the warm house, uninvited but knowingly welcome all the same. I ran for the tower and took the spiral staircase up through the cylinder of old books, popping out and surprising Alex who clearly hadn’t spotted me coming across the empty snow-laden clearing.
“Red.” He bent onto one knee to help me up the last few steps. The room opened out up here, with the shutters thrown wide and the view going on for miles, giving a feeling of space, and for a moment I felt like I could leap out the window and fly away. “What’s happened?”
“I can’t back out,” I sobbed. “I tried. I told Mom I don’t want to do it, but I can’t back out.”
“What are you saying?”
I stopped trying to explain for a moment and looked at his face; how had I not noticed it before? How had I not seen how truly adorable he is? Even with a world of worries beneath a nest of bed hair, he was everything I would ever want. I couldn’t let anything bad happen to him because of me. I could run away with him, take my mom with me, even George and Plain and Sacha, but this was not their problem. This was not their reality. There was no running. No matter where I went, Luther would find me.
“It’s today,” I said. “They’re taking me today.”
“What?” Alex’s knees buckled and he stepped backward until his calves found the blue armchair. He slumped down, curled fist by his lips. Numb.
“I’m so sorry, Alex. I tried to back out, but it’s too late.”
He sprung to his feet, startling me. “It’s never too late! You—”
“No.” I backed away, shaking my head. “You don’t understand.”
“Yes I do, Red. I do.” He grabbed my arms.
“You don’t,” I insisted, “because you don’t have all the facts. If you did, you would never try to talk me out of going.”
Alex’s eyes changed. He searched mine for the truth I wouldn’t speak, seeing enough there though to make his shoulders drop. “This can’t be real. I can’t be losing you after we just found each other.”
“I’m so sorry, Alex.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He took my wrist and pulled me closer, tucking my head under his chin as he held me tight in the cold and the worry and the fear surrounding us. “I will always be here, Red. No matter where you are or what you have to do to survive. This will always be your story world, your escape, and you never have to be sorry here.”
I cried into his chest—into that stupid book boyfriend T-shirt he had on when we first met. I wanted to go back to that, to tell myself then that things would feel so different after meeting Alex and leave a warning not to put myself forward as an offering. But unlike in the story worlds, there was no going back. There was no time machine to erase all the bad decisions. I had to face them head on.
Alex held me close, hands open on my back, and let me sob for a while. The sun was up fully
in the sky before either of us moved, icy and stiff when we finally did. It felt as though my skin might rip away from his, not just because of the frost but for the reluctance to leave.
“I have to go,” I said regretfully. “I have a lot to prepare for.”
Alex swept my hair back behind my ear, taking in my face. “I knew it was too good to be true.”
“What?”
“That a dorky, awkward guy like me could ever be friends with a girl like you.”
I laughed. “You are not dorky and awkward, Alex.” I reached up, my face crumpling as I realized this would be the first and the last time I ever told him this. I tugged a lock of his hair and let it spring back up, tears escaping that had no permission to. “You’re beautiful, Alex. And I think maybe I love you.”
Alex couldn’t bear it then. His eyebrow came down on one side and his lip trembled, clear eyes holding my gaze as though to break away would be to give in to the pain.
“I have to go.” I backed away. “Tell George I love him too, and say goodbye to Plain. And Sacha.” My lungs wouldn’t release her name without shaking. I would never see a dog again—unless Luther liked me and let me live as a normal wife would—free to go to parties and visit people in town. Wolves weren’t partial to dogs, and dogs did not often like wolves. If I was trapped there at the mansion, animals would never be a part of my life again.
“I will,” Alex said, nodding as though it would make him strong. “And, Red?”
I stopped as I placed one foot down on the stairs.
“I know it won’t matter now, but…” He walked one step closer and made himself stop. “I….”
Whatever it was he needed to say, it wouldn’t come out. A thick lens of tears filled his eyes like overflowing pools and he just shook his head apologetically.
“Take care, okay?” he said.
“I will.” I nodded, watching my bare feet take each step down from the tower.
Part Two: Chapter Six
The Offering
It was official. Today, I could no longer call myself April Redwood aka Red; I was The Offering. “Put this corset on The Offering!”; “What has The Offering done to her hair?”; “How much longer until The Offering is ready for the Sacrificial Walk?” was all I heard all day, and in a few hours from now I would make that walk. It sounded so final, maybe even brutal, calling it a Sacrificial Walk, but I had no time to think about it. There were preparations to be made, other than packing, because tonight, I was told, I would lose my virginity. No one seemed to think it would matter that I had my period, either. And that made matters worse. More horrific. Who wants to do that for the first time, with a stranger that’s thousands of years old, while they’re on their period? Gross, and painful and scary and awful. Just awful. And did I say gross?
I sobbed the moment the ladies arrived from the mansion to dress me. I was still sobbing as they cleaned me and bound my body into a tight corset, a dainty white dress with pink flowers embroidered on the base, and a thick woolen cardigan—one worthy of a walk through an icy tundra. I howled loudly when they took my suitcase from my dreamy room with the snowy walls. And I was dried up, numb, by the time they let my mom in to see me.
“April.” Her hug made everything worse. I thought I’d feel better if I could just have her here beside me, but I wanted her to save me. I wanted her to come to my rescue like she would when I was little and I’d get hurt. But no one could save me. And crying in her arms would only make this so much worse for her. So I sobered myself up and forced myself to stop crying.
“I’ll be okay, Mom. I’m okay now.”
“Liar.”
“No, I really am, Mom.” I smiled, growing a kind of wall inside that gave me strength. “He’s cute, at least,” I offered. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe he’ll be nicer than everyone says.”
Mom nodded, her face contorting around so many mixed emotions. “This is a proud day, April. A happy day. You have the respect and adoration, and jealousy,” she added with a laugh, “of your entire pack. And they’ve all gathered by the pass to see you off.”
“Are they chanting?” I’d only been told stories about the chanting ritual, how it marked the beginning of the ceremony, but from what I’d heard it was quite a sight—one of those profound experiences, like seeing a cultural dance or a Māori welcoming ceremony.
“They’ll begin in a moment. When they’ve been given the sign.”
“The sign?”
“Once you arrive at the pass and they see the red of your cape.” She turned and nodded at the box sitting on my bed. “That’s when they know it’s time to call to Carne and ask for his blessing.”
I smiled, thinking about them—how they would all look at me when I stepped out in my white dress and the long red velvety cape. I looked beautiful, I knew that. I’d never seen a Sacrificial Walk before. I wasn’t even born when Luther took his last wife, but I knew people would talk about it for years to come.
“Come on, let’s get your cape on.”
I followed her to my bed and we both looked down at the square box sitting there: it was old, or maybe ancient was a better word, the dark brown edges black where age had withered the leather it was made from, while a rune marked the center—one that meant fertility.
“So you know this cape is red because it’s supposed to bring the blood of life down from the house of the gods and nourish the woman’s womb?” Mom said, opening the box.
I could smell mothballs and old leather, and as she lifted the cape out from its resting place, I could sense its age. It was like I could feel the soul of the very first wife within it, maybe even the one from the story. And one day, another new wife would be able to feel me within its folds. Which was saddening, because, aside from the children I may or may not have with Luther, that ‘feeling’ would be the only real proof that I ever existed in this world. The only thing I left behind. My only mark.
“April?” Mom prompted. “Are you all right, sweetie?”
I looked from the cape to her. “You won’t forget about me, will you, Mom?”
“Forget about you?” She dropped the cape back into the box. “How could I forget you?”
“I just…” I held my eyes still on that cape, frozen and fixed as if it was the last piece that would topple over the rickety tower. “What music I like, how I smell, how snappy I get before my morning shower… the posters on my wall.” I looked over at Edgar.
Mom looked too, and her brow twitched a little. “The little things,” she said, nodding. “I won’t forget the little things.”
But we both knew she would, just as I’d forget them about her, just as we both had about Dad.
“You know, you might be surprised just how nice Luther is, April,” Mom offered. “I know you’re afraid because of what you’ve been told, but Luther is known to be a great man, and no matter what anyone says, he has never mistreated his wives.”
“It’s not just that…” I picked up the red cape and slid my thumb across the velvet, letting the furry feel ground me. “It’s that… I’ll most likely never see you again.”
“Don’t say that.” Mom wiped a tearstain from my cheek with her thumb and smiled. “You’ll be one of his favorites. You’ll be at all the parties and you’ll come to town once a month with Theowulf when he comes to see Aerik.”
I nodded, smiling, though my cheeks hurt to do so.
“And April?” Mom said, a coating of awkwardness moving over her. “Things will happen tonight, after the ceremony—”
“I know, Mom.” I laughed. “I know what happens on a wedding night.”
She nodded. “You don’t have to be afraid of it. You are wolf, even if only half, and it’s very instinctual for us.”
“Mom.” I felt my cheeks go hot. “Please don’t make this any worse.”
She laughed, nodding. “Okay. I’m sorry. I just…”
“I know,” I said, handing her the cape. “Will you do this for me?”
Mom took it and leaned around me to wr
ap it about my shoulders. It swathed me like a thick warm blanket, surprisingly heavier than it looked. When they dressed me in woolen underlays thick enough to make me an inch fatter, and boots lined with wolf fur, I thought I might get hot on my walk through the snow, but with the red cape as well, I was certain I’d be sweating by the time I got to the top of the hill. Maybe sweating enough to just slip right back down to town and away from Luther.
“There,” she said, fastening the tie under my chin. “Let me get a look at you.”
I stood back and let Mom take me in with proud but also regretful eyes. I could tell she tried to imagine an elegant white wedding dress in place of these ancient cloths, because being that I was her only daughter, walking the proverbial aisle dressed in ten yards of sheep was really not what she had in mind.
“You look beautiful,” she said.
“I look like a sock puppet,” I remarked, spreading my arms out.
Mom laughed, moving in to hug me. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Okay,” I said, but if Luther didn’t favor me, we both knew that would never happen. After all, I had never laid eyes on his last wife. Only a few people had at the very beginning of their married days, but then she must have pissed him off because she vanished.
“And he likes his girls old-fashioned,” she added, pulling away. “If I can give you one piece of advice, it’s to be like the girls in those old Jane Austen movies we used to watch together.”
“Super.” I wiped my eye. So what Ashley said was true. “I’m going a hundred years back in time.”
“A little more than a hundred,” she said with a smile. “But you will be all right. You’re resourceful and mature, April. I know you’ll find the strength in yourself to do what must be done and that you’ll not only survive this life, but make it your own.”
My heart felt warm then and I smiled, because she was right. I had inner reserves that I knew I could call on when I needed to. And without my mom, without the safety of this old house where I grew up, I’d be forced to mature from a seventeen-year-old high school student as I left my old front door, into an adult ready to be married by the time I arrived at my new one. That walk, that snowy trek through the pass, that was my crucible. That was where I would find myself—the me I had to be from now on.
Red: The Untold Story Page 9
