Ronan and I stood at the edge of the fairy circle.
Do I really want to do this?
The first stirrings of doubt settled in the pit of my stomach. It had been years since I’d stayed in the Grove for more than a few hours at a time, and for good reason.
“What’s the death rate?” Ronan asked.
“What?” I squinted at Ronan with confusion.
Ronan nudged a faintly glowing rock on the fairy ring with his foot. “How often do people die in these?”
“Four, maybe five people?”
“Four or five a month? A year?”
Ronan crossed his arms over his chest, a vaguely annoyed expression on his face.
“Four or five in the last ten years. If it was more than an occasional accident, do you think we’d use them so much?”
Ronan’s posture relaxed slightly. “So the rumors aren’t true?”
“That these things are death traps? If you don’t know how to travel through them, they can be.”
I pulled a thin iron bar the length of my finger from my pocket and handed it to Ronan.
“We sew iron bars and buttons like this into everyone’s clothes to dispel fey charms,” I explained, holding out my sleeve so he could see the little button detaining. “And we follow the rules of the fey, and we are residents of Sherwood so we have the forest’s protection.”
Ronan nodded slowly. “Rules of the fey… don’t eat their food, don’t tell them your name, and don’t step into their fairy circles?”
“Don’t go into their fairy circles without permission, and be quiet when you do. I have permission.”
I held out my hand. Ronan hesitated, then took it in his, taking a deep breath.
Is he scared?
I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Just don’t scream.”
I stepped into the fairy circle, pulling Ronan with me. The ground fell away, and we were falling.
I blinked, and glowing roots of every color of the earth appeared, twisting and turning into thousands of paths. Glowing orbs floated about the darkness between, my mind’s representation of the fey.
I reached out with my mind, sorting through the paths by feel.
There!
I focused on the cool, shimmery blue path that led to the Grove. That focus tilted our fall, carrying us over miles and miles of land in mere seconds.
I blinked and my feet hit the ground. The darkness faded, and we were standing in a fairy ring once more.
I stepped out of the fairy ring, dragging Ronan behind me. He stumbled forward, gripping my hand as if it was his only grasp on sanity.
“See? Perfectly safe. You can let go of my hand now,” I said, glancing back at him.
Ronan dropped my hand, and I shook it out, wiping my whitened fingertips on my skirt.
“This is the Grove?” he asked, shaking his head as he looked around the forest.
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“Not quite. It’s right through these trees.”
I led Ronan though a short patch of forest, stepping out into a massive clearing.
A town sprawled out before us, a cluster of homes and shops and buildings made of smooth stone and the reddish wood of Sherwood trees. Farms and pasture land stretched to the east, while the forest crept up to the side of the west. Beyond the little town sunlight glinted off the massive lake that stretched beyond like the sea, the far-off mountains just visible in the distance.
Once it had been one of my favorite parts of Sherwood. It was extremely remote, deep in the very heart of the forest. A sanctuary by the sea.
I took a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with. ”
We followed a dirt road down through the fields, making our way to the town. Farmers working in the summer sun waved to us, and a few shouted greetings over their potato plants and wheat stalks.
The air changed when we stepped into the town. People stared at us through the windows of their cottages, or stopped in the streets. Shop owners and street vendors paused their sales as we passed. Even the cats that roamed the town paused to gawk at the unusual sight.
“Are the townsfolk not fond of outsiders?” Ronan said, his voice low.
I glanced at him, noticing the darkening space around him. “They aren’t paying any attention to you.”
An all-too familiar face exited from a house just beyond us.
I stood straighter, fighting the urge to flee.
Margaretta flounced toward us, her perfect chocolate-brown ringlets and fashionable full skirts bouncing with each step. Despite the dirt road, her bright yellow clothing, trimmed in white lace no less, and heeled boots were spotless. She wore kid gloves, a fan dangling on a loop on her right wrist, and held a white lacy parasol over her left shoulder, shading her tan skin. A proper lady, the child of one of several minor noble families that presided in the Grove.
“Wren Hood, is that you?” she asked with a smile, her voice loud and shrill like an off-tune flute. “I never see you in town!”
Everyone was watching us now. I could feel their eyes bore into me.
“Hello to you as well, Magatetta,” I said, forcing a smile.
“Did you finally tire of climbing trees and traipsing through the forest like a monkey with your brother? Please say yes, I am just dying to have another girl of class to gossip with. Emilia and Loretta are such bores after a while.”
I gritted my teeth behind my smile. “I am afraid I am here only temporarily.”
“Ah, pity. Still, you must have tea with me before you leave. I’ll take you to the seamstress to order some proper clothes too. It will be such fun!” Margaretta clasped her hands together, somehow managing to not whack herself in the face with her parasol in the process. “We had such fun before you went off to play rebel with the commoners.”
“I will see if I can find time in my schedule, however I am very busy and only here for a short time,” I said, stepping forward and to the side.
She always acts as if my presence is a given, so there’s no way If I can make a graceful exit now by walking away…
Margaretta grabbed my wrist. “Come now! At least tell my parents you have arrived!”
I let Margaretta pull me into her house, closing the door behind me before Ronan could think to follow.
It would be better if he wasn’t involved with Margaretta. She’d fawn over him like a lovesick puppy, and I don’t have time for that nonsense.
Margaretta closed her parasol and hung it on a hook by the door, her cheery smile falling away. “I offered you an opportunity to raise your standing here. Many girls in this wretched hovel would do anything for that kind of opportunity. Yet you dismiss me with petty excuses?”
Her eyes were hard, her expression cold, so unlike her usual cheery face.
Something’s changed…
I felt for the doorknob. “I am not worthy of your time anyways. Please, ignore my presence.”
Margaretta stepped forward, gripping my shoulder. Her long, manicured nails dug into my skin as she drew even closer. I pressed my back against the door, my hand on the handle.
“So be it. But see to it you do not step even a foot into this town.”
Who does she think she is?
She couldn’t intimidate me. I knew she would never risk her reputation to harm me. Not when it meant so much to her.
“I am not catering to your whims this time,” I said, straightening. “I am not twelve anymore. You cannot order me around.”
I could see the fire in her eyes, see her hand raise, fan gripped in it so hard her fingers were whitening. I stood perfectly still, expression blank as I met her gaze.
You won’t have the nerve to strike the daughter of your family’s savior. Not when I have to go back out there and face everyone again.
The fan hit my cheek with an audible crack. I sucked in a breath as my eyes began to water as hot pain erupted across the left side of my face.
I stared at Margaretta, mouth agape as she sneered at me.
“I will do worse if you dare show your face here again.”