The Grace Year(39)

“Everyone has agreed,” she says as she glances toward the clearing. “Everyone but you.”

“Oh,” I say with a deep exhalation of breath, trying not to look as disappointed as I feel.

“The girls are talking … having doubts.”

“Are you?” I ask.

She stares down at the shriveled sprig of elderflower cupped in the palm of her hand. It’s an old flower, seldom used anymore, but it’s the symbol of absolution.

“Did she give that to you?”

Gertie closes her fingers around it, like she’s holding the most fragile egg.

“You know you can’t trust her. She’s not God. She can’t absolve you from something she did herself. She’s the reason you were punished. Remember what she did to you.” I reach out for her hands to turn them over, to show her the scars, but she pulls away from me, staggering back a few steps in the process.

“She apologized,” Gertie says as she slowly regains her balance. “We’re friends again.”

“Friends?” I laugh.

“You have no idea what it’s like … being an outcast … being reviled.”

“Look around … I don’t see anyone trying to help me.”

“But that’s your choice.” She shakes her head. “You never wanted to be one of us.” A pained look comes over her. “All you have to do is accept your magic and—”

“I can’t accept something I don’t feel. Maybe it’s an illness, but whatever’s happening to us—”

“She’s calling you a heretic,” she says, her chin trembling. “A usurper.”

I don’t know why it makes me laugh. Back in the county, if you were accused of heresy, they didn’t even bother with the gallows. They just burned you alive. I pull my cloak tighter around me. “Kiersten just wants chaos because she wants control.”

“You’re wrong.” Gertie’s brow knots up in a tight line. “She truly believes that by embracing her magic, turning herself over to the darkness inside of her, that she will get to go home a purified woman. Rid herself of her sins, start anew.”

“What sins? The sin of being born a girl?”

“We all have sin,” she whispers.

A caw rings out over the woods, making Gertie flinch.

“It’s just a crow,” I say, but I’m not sure this time. I’m not entirely sure I heard it at all. Looking up, I see the clouds race by so fast that it makes me dizzy. “Kiersten,” I say, lowering my eyes, trying to regain my focus. “She came to see me today. She’s just using you to get to me.”

“Not everything is about you, Tierney.”

“Then what’s it about? Tell me. What’s really bothering you?”

She looks up at me, her eyes large and glassy. “I don’t want to be Dirty Gertie anymore. I just want it to stop.”

“If this is about the other girls … I can talk to them … I can get them to—”

“I don’t need your help anymore.”

“I don’t understand,” I say. “Did she threaten you? Did she promise you something?” I’m searching her face, looking for any kind of clue, but Gertie’s good at pretending. “What are you hiding?” I ask.

Gertie looks toward the punishment tree. I can’t see the expression on her face, but I notice the tension in her jaw. It’s almost as if she’s clamping her mouth shut so nothing will slip out against her will. “I think it’s best if we don’t speak anymore,” she says before joining the others.





I spend the rest of the day tapping maples, collecting tinder from the perimeter, anything to keep my mind occupied, keep away from the camp, but I feel myself drifting, like a piece of deadwood caught in a violent current.

My palms are blistered up beyond recognition by the time I decide to head back to camp. I take my time, in part because I don’t want Kiersten to think I’m taking this gathering seriously, but also because there’s a part of me that’s scared. I overheard some of the girls saying they came into their magic just by staring into the flames. I keep thinking there has to be another explanation for all this. There’s no denying we’re in a weakened state right now, vulnerable, but I can’t stop them if they want to succumb. People see what they want to see. Including me.

As I approach the fire, the wood isn’t the only thing crackling. The very air surrounding the assembled girls feels charged. There’s lightning in the distance, and a low grumble, like the echo of an avalanche from clear across the world.

On instinct, I find Gertie in the crowd, but she doesn’t motion for me to join her. She doesn’t acknowledge me at all. I want to fix this, apologize for whatever I did to offend her, but maybe she needs space right now. What I wouldn’t give for a little more space. My eyes scan the fence keeping us from the outside world. So far, the poachers have made no attempt to lure us out. If I hadn’t seen one of them with my own eyes, I might even question their existence. I wonder if they’re watching us right now. Taking bets on which one of us will be the next to fall.

A roar of thunder releases. Closer this time.

“Listen. She’s trying to communicate,” Kiersten says.