Half Wylde | Book 1

Three: Fear

Whispers tickled me awake. It was not near dawn yet and my muscles ached. I frowned and tilted my head slightly to hear better. A few words were clear enough to make out. West. Soon. Smoke. Girl. The wind had picked up, blowing the sounds away.

I sat up as quietly as I could, which was almost silent in the hay. It was still fresh enough that no dry crunch would give away my movements. The barn door was half-opened, but I couldn't see anyone through it. With luck, that meant they couldn't see me either.

I crept down the ladder, swearing to sleep with my axe from now on. My feet hit the dirt floor and I tiptoed for the doorway to listen.

"Most of the girls in these parts match that description. You'll have to do better than that." It was the farmer.

"I smell her all over your fields. Does that bring someone to mind?" It wasn't a question, it was a demand. The rumbling voice sent chills down my back. It was wild, something that didn't belong outside a barn so much as running through the trees or soaring in the sky. It was a voice of strength. It was low and dark and dangerous.

"Let me think, now. I may have had someone help in the fields, but she's done and gone from them now. She never said where she would go after that. Perhaps you could try going south though, since there isn't anything the other directions of interest to a traveler." The farmer's drawl was slow, like he was thinking. Or buying time. I held my breath. They say the fae can smell lies. He didn't outright say anything that was untrue, but he was most certainly pushing the boundaries. The old farmer may have been the bravest man I had ever seen. If it were me, I'd be shaking in my boots.

I dared a peek outside the barn door. It was him. The fae from the village towered over the human in his doorway. I choked down a gasp. His back was to me, but the farmer could see me plain as day. I ducked back into the barn.

"Yes, I'd go south if it were me." The farmer wondered out loud. "But I didn't watch her leave, so I can't be sure."

"So be it." The fae growled and stepped back from the farmer.

The fae's steps thundered. He ran with a frightening swiftness. I stuck my head out only to find he was already out of sight. The farmer stood in his doorway, staring open-mouthed after the creature from the Wyldes. The farmer turned his head towards me. He nodded once, then retreated to the warmth of his house. I guess I ranked a little better than a fae from the Wyldes, at least to the farmer of Pine Hollow.

Fully awake now, and every instinct urging me forward, I pulled my sled out the barn door. Why would the fae be after me? I probably offended him when I pushed him. I didn't regret it. He put his hands on me and lay bare my most vulnerable secret. I wasn't about to take that from anyone.

As for where to go, north was tempting. The opposite direction of the wild thing that was looking for me. But I pressed eastward, if only for the fact that I told Mila I would be traveling that way.

The open fields in the hollow left me feeling naked. The trees were a welcoming cloak from the empty skies, and the terrible growling voice I had left behind me on the farm. I tried to run, but the sled held me back and the litter of the forest floor was a tangle of hazards, the snow cover too light. If only the deep snows had begun. I could already see several nicks in the metal rails where rocks had scraped the sled. Surely, it made too much noise. I debated on abandoning it, but even with my natural swiftness, I couldn't carry everything, and the weight of my sack would tire me sooner. Besides, with the now fully formed bruise from Bryn, my left arm was nearly useless it was so sore. Fortunately, luck was on my side and I came across a brook. Unlike the muddy riverbed that brought me to the farm, water trickled cold and unrelenting down the slope. At least my burden could move through it.