The Grace Year(70)

“You are my brother,” Ryker says, cradling the back of Anders’s head. “That will never change. Once we’re settled, I’ll send for you and my family.”

“You think you can just drift off into the sunset?” Anders’s nostrils flare.

“Why not? There’s plenty of land for the taking. I’m a good hunter.”

“Not good enough,” Anders says, staring at me.

“She’s with me now.” Ryker moves into his line of sight, breaking the fixation. “The question is, are you?” He tightens his grip on the knife. “I need to know right now where you stand.”

“With you,” Anders whispers. “I’ve always been with you, brother. Till the end.”

Ryker looks back at me as if he’s waiting for my approval. I nod. I don’t know what else to do.

Bending to untie Anders’s hands, Ryker says, “I know this is a lot to ask, but this is all going to work out. You’ll see.” He gives his shoulders a squeeze, before letting him go.

As Anders walks toward the door, I’m bracing myself for anything, but Ryker seems to have quelled his anger.

Anders pauses by the door. “I dropped a jar of hemlock silt around here somewhere. That’s why I came … I wanted to show you. The storm kicked up a whole mess of it.”

“That’ll fetch a great price,” Ryker says excitedly.

“There’s more down in the third cove,” Anders says. “We could haul it in together. Fifty-fifty.”

“Nah, you can keep it, but I’ll help you bring it in.”

“You’d do that?” Anders asks sheepishly.

“We’re still in this together,” Ryker says. “Now there’s just one more of us.”

Anders looks my way. He still can’t meet my eyes, but it’s a start.

“First light, I’ll meet you at the cove,” Anders says with a slight smile. And for a brief second I can see the sweet boy Ryker told me about.





Immediately, I start cleaning up the cabin. I don’t know what else to do … with my mind … my body.

Ryker leans against the wall, watching me. “Whatever you’re thinking—”

“Thinking? What could I possibly be thinking?” I pick up the shroud off the floor. “Oh, I don’t know … that maybe you just had someone tied up with this … someone who wanted to kill me, or you to kill me, or kill me together. I mean … kill it.”

A pained look crosses his face. “You have to understand,” he says as he moves toward me. “He was taken over the barrier by prey, they bit him, he believes his entire family was wiped out by the curse … but he’ll come around. Just give him a chance. He would never do anything to hurt me.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about.” I push past him, grabbing the stool, putting it back by the table. “And what’s this about being with me?” I scoff. “Don’t you think you should’ve at least asked me first? Or are you just going to claim me like the men in the county?”

“I just thought … okay … fine,” he says, following close behind. “We can get married, if that’s better.”

“No!” I yell as I storm off to another corner, but it’s only a few feet away. There’s nowhere to go. I accidentally kick something; it rolls under the bed.

“You don’t have to marry me,” he says, throwing his hands up in the air. “I just thought with the hair … and the ribbon … the way you were raised … that it would be … important.”

Getting down on my hands and knees, I reach under the bed to grab whatever it was that I kicked. It’s a jar. Holding it up to the light, my mind stutters.

“I’m trying to talk to you … will you please hear m—”

“Wait. Is this the hemlock silt Anders was talking about?”

“You found it,” Ryker says, reaching for it.

“Are you sure this is it?” I tug back on it, forcing him to meet my eyes.

“Positive,” he says, clearly taken aback by my intensity. “You can tell by the bright green color and the way the edges spread out like—”

“What would this do to a person?”

“I’ve never touched the stuff, but the old crones use it in the northern woods for scrying work. If you even put a drop on your tongue, you’ll have visions. They say it connects you to the spirit world, above and below.”

“What about prolonged use … like all day … every day?”

“You’d go insane.”

I put my hands over my mouth to stifle a sobbing gasp, but it leaks through my fingers. “I’m not crazy, then.” I let out a sputtering burst of pent-up air. “Don’t you get it?” With trembling hands, I grab on to him. “That’s what’s happening to the grace year girls. I knew it was something … the water … the food … the air … but it’s this … the algae … it’s inside the well. They all drink from it. When I was in the camp, I did, too. I was having dizzy spells, feeling things on my skin that weren’t there. But after I was banished to the woods and started drinking the water from high on the spring, I felt better. Clearer.” Fresh tears flood my eyes. “It’s not magic … it’s poison.”