Eyes of the Woods (7 page)

Father ran to the base of the wall and peered up at me.

“See anything?”

I squinted my eyes to try to see better into the night. The woods were still.

I shook my head. “Nothing. It’s gone.”

I climbed down, and Father frowned, clearly troubled. “You’re sure?” Father asked.

I nodded once.

“That’s twice in twenty-four hours. Either we have a curious nightwalker, or they’re planning something.”

“Maybe we should go hunting?” I asked as the cousins returned to their posts.

Father shook his head. “You have a big day tomorrow. Go in for dinner, and then get to bed.”

I obeyed.

The empty chair at dinner seemed to be the loudest thing in the room. We waited for Jonathan in silence while Mother and Father argued over his whereabouts. Once the clock struck midnight, my mother stood up and paced the floor.

“What if something happened to him, Dyre? What if he went into the woods?” she asked, picking at her skirt.

“He’s probably sulking somewhere,” Father said. “It’s always rough on the younger children when we change their sleeping from days to nights. You know they get emotional. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“For hours? Dyre! It’s worrying me that you’re so calm about this! Where’s your concern?”

“He’ll be home soon,” Father said, more to himself than to Mother.

In the next moment, the door slowly creaked open, and Jonathan crept up the steps, thinking we were in bed.

After glancing at all of us, Mother ran to the stairs. “Jonathan?”

We all stood up from our chairs and followed her to the entrance hall. Jonathan was standing on the steps, his back still turned to Mother.

“Where have you been?” Father asked.

He didn’t answer.

“Jonathan!” Mother said, her voice raised an octave. “Answer your father!”

Jonathan spun around. “Why should I show a man respect who doesn’t respect me?” he growled.

“Get down here!” Father’s voice boomed so loudly that my shoulders shot up to my ears. Jonathan slowly descended the few steps he’d managed to climb before Mother caught him. “Where have you been?”

“I went for a walk!”

“You will not leave your room except for meals and chores, do you hear me?” Mother said.

“Yes ma’am,” he whispered, his ears bright red.

“You’re forbidden to hunt until you learn some consideration,” Father added.

“No,” he whispered. “No! Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to have a sister who hunts, and I don’t? The other kids think I’m weak!”

“Is that what this is about?” Father asked, taking a step. He walked forward and put reassuring hands on Jonathan’s shoulders. “Son, they don’t know the order of things. Who are they to presume when you’re ready? Why would you give them that power?”

Jonathan hung his head. “It’s maddening. I’ve run out of things to say to them.”

Father frowned. “We don’t explain ourselves, son. Remember that.”

Jonathan nodded. “May I go to my room? I’m not hungry.”

Father nodded, and Jonathan trudged upstairs.

“Finish your dinner,” Mother murmured, kissing all of our foreheads. I smiled softly when she had Clemens bend down, but still had to reach on the tips of her toes.

We cleaned our plates in silence, and then all sat by the fire for a few hours before turning in. When I reached the doorway to my room, I paused. The red dress mocked me, reminding me of the ridiculous event that would take place the following day. I rushed past it and fell into bed, my face in the pillow. I would trade punishment with Jonathan any day, instead of having to go through the public humiliation of a betrothal.

From a deep sleep, I sat straight up in bed, breathing hard. Something from the deep wood had been chasing me, and no matter how fast I ran or how many turns I took, it was right behind me. I hugged myself and rocked back and forth, feeling the sweat dripping down my face, instantly cool from the winter air.

Wrapping my plush, red robe around me, I padded to the washroom to wash my face, but seeing the large basin in the center of the room, I pulled loose my hair, which was tied in a knot at the crown of my head, and then sat on the edge of the stone that had been laid around it. I switched on the lever, and watched as the steamy water poured in. It was in these times that I was grateful to be Priory. Our home was the only one with running water, much less hot water. In the dead of winter, a hot bath was the only thing that calmed the nightmares that plagued me.

I peeled off my robe and then my white cotton gown. It was still damp from sweat.

One foot at a time, I stepped into the hot water, wincing at first and then letting myself slide down until I was neck deep. I soaked, hearing only the water dripping from the spout, and the sound made by the water the few times I moved.

I’d kept it from Mother and Father, and even my brothers, that I’d had daymares most of my life. The last thing a woman in the Priory wanted was to appear weak. However, this time felt different, as if it weren’t a dream at all, but a message.

This wasn’t quite like the others; I noticed a tiny difference. I had caught a glimpse of something other than the woods flying past me as I ran, like I did most nights, from my assailant. I saw those same red eyes that had hovered twice before above our wall. But they weren’t after me. They were just watching. Waiting patiently. But for what, I didn’t know.

Just as my skin began to prune, the sunrise turned the walls from drab stone into a beautiful watercolor painting. The water had cooled anyway, so I stood and wrapped myself in my robe.

As I left the washroom and turned the corner, a large yet short figure was in front of me. Instinctively, my hand flew up and then paused in midair.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Lukas hissed. He was keeping his voice down, and with good reason. He was standing in the back hall with Johanna, her coral-red lip stain smeared on his lips.

I yanked back my hand.

Johanna’s head was still ducked, her shoulders raised nearly to her ears.

“What am I doing? What are you doing?” I wasn’t sure why I was whispering. I would love it if Mother caught Johanna slobbering all over her son in the dark. Any hope Johanna might have for Lukas would be annihilated.

Lukas’s expression went from shock to panic to embarrassment in a matter of a moment. “Eris…you, uh, you know Johanna.”

“Obviously, not as well as you do,” I said.

Johanna’s big eyes watched me, waiting to see what I would do.

“Eris, please…,” she began. “It’s your big day. Let’s not ruin it.”

“You have chores,” I said to Lukas. “And you should take your lips and go home,” I said to Johanna. I walked through the doorway to the great chamber and then to the front entrance, opening the large, wooden door.

Johanna glanced at Lukas, who only offered an apologetic expression. When she saw he wouldn’t protest, she smoothed out her hair and the smeared stain on her lips, and then walked out the door.

I slammed the door shut, making Lukas wince.

“You better get going, before someone comes looking for who slammed the door.”

“You won’t tell them?” he said.

“No. But you stay away from that girl, Lukas. Mark my words. Once you have her, you’ll see her for what she really is, and then it’ll be too late.”

“It’s my mistake to make, sister.”

I sighed. “Just…don’t rush. Okay? You have your whole life ahead of you. There is a world of beautiful, sweet girls out there.”

Lukas’s mouth turned up in a half smile. “Not like Johanna.”

He ducked back down the hall and out the back door to begin his chores, and Father ambled from his room into the hall. His hair was poking out in every direction, and he was scratching his backside.

I frowned.

“Eris. Is everything all right? Was that you who slammed the door?”

I couldn’t say that her son was just pawing all over an all-to-eager harlot, so I did the next best thing. “Lukas’s a traitor!” I blurted out. “He’s walking around with that…that…
Johanna
. He’s courting Johanna Wayland!”

He suppressed a smile, as if he knew something I didn’t.

“She was here! Asking for him! It’s barely dawn! What sort of girl does that? Not a lady. Certainly not one meant to marry into our family.”

“The Waylands are a good family,” Father said. He could barely contain his teasing smile.

“Johanna has been wretched. Just wretched! All of a sudden she’s this sugary-sweet, coy, tittering fool, and Lukas has fallen for it. You have to do something, Father. You can’t allow her to manipulate Lukas this way. He won’t listen to me.”

“Maybe you should soak in another bath,” he said, pointing to my robe. I crossed my arms.

“Will it help me keep Lukas from the hell that is Johanna?”

Father leaned back, and his booming laugh traveled throughout the house. He took a deep breath, wiped his eyes, and then kissed my forehead.

“Believe it or not, sweet Eris, there is a hell from which men do not wish to be saved.”

He walked away, still chuckling, and my face caught fire. Why would no one listen? Why did all of this ridiculous pairing make people so…so…senseless? It didn’t just make the two involved blind, but everyone around them.

When Lukas returned from his chores, I was in my room, glaring at the red dress I would have to put on in a few hours.

“Eris? Did you tell them?” he asked, his head barely poking into my doorway from the hall.

With skill and speed, I grabbed one of my boots and chucked it just right of his face. He yelped and ducked and then peeked around the corner again.

“Eris! What the heck?” Lukas yelled.

“
Johanna Wayland
! That’s what!” I shouted, and stomped into my room.

THERE IT WAS, RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME.
I paused in the doorway, all thoughts of Johanna the witch and my brother’s betrayal vanished. Why did it have to be in the center of the room, taunting me all this time? Why did Mother insist upon it?

The ruched, blood-red fabric flowed over one layer, and then another, until it billowed out and touched the floor. The neckline was just off the shoulder, with capped sleeves and a form-fitting waist. The dress was too much, made to bring attention to whoever wore it. Not me at all.

I sat on the bed, rubbing one hand against the other. My life was over. Just hours from that moment, I would belong to someone else.

Father’s heavy footsteps sounded in the hall and rounded the corner. His reaction was surprising.

“You’re breaking my heart,” he said, sighing. “I’ve never seen a young lady so forlorn over her betrothal. Did I really raise a daughter so obstinate?”

“You truly believe this is about you, or the laws? My life is about to change, and not because of my own doing.”

My answer took him aback, and then his surprise disappeared, replaced by understanding. “I made the best of it. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

“You should be proud that I’m so strong-minded, Father.”

“I am, and I chose a man for you who will be proud of it as well.”

“I can’t think of a worse fate than to be given to someone. Like a slave. Like property.” I glared at the dress. It represented everything I dreaded.

Father stood. “I can think of a worse fate. You could be wandering the woods unable to think of anything but your thirst.”