Page 12 of A Beautifully Crafted Lie

BRYNDIS ASHGLO

The Others are real. Commonly mistaken for mere legend, people no longer look for them or honor the laws of old.

The Legends of The Forgotten, by Tibor Harper

Fiddles, drums, and tambourines from the travelling musicians kick up such a racket that I can barely think. A large crowd gathers around them, singing and clapping along with their version of a traditional song, separating me from Laoise. Some wear masks bought at the market, badgers, squirrels, birds, rabbits, and mice, all representing the more harmless creatures of the forest. Women’s corseted dresses sway and swish, sounding like the rhythmic sweep of a broom as they dance. I rise to my toes, but I can’t see Laoise. She isn’t where I told her to wait—where she promised she’d stay. If my family finds out that I left her alone in order to look for a boy, I’ll pay a terrible price.

“Unwise decisions garner merciless repercussions,” the creature mocks.

Panic wraps around my throat. I’m supposed to watch her, to keep her safe. Instead, I left her—still high on opium—alone. Making my way forward, I weave through an almost immovable wall of spectators. Working class men, tall and muscular, with the refined manners of oxen, despite their buttoned shirts and polished shoes, stand beside their partners. I push against them, but they only push back, subconsciously afraid that I’ll steal their spot. They tower above me. Women sway, singing and clapping their hands. Sweat and perfume, warm and clammy, surround me. No one pays me an ounce of attention or moves to allow me to pass, barely noticing me as I squeeze past them.

“Mistake… It was a mistake to leave her alone. The smiling girl will only betray you. You know this to be true.”

The song is familiar, but I don’t stop to listen, even though it nearly drives a stake through my heart. The market square reminds me so much of the things my mother once enjoyed. She was a refined lady, but during the time of Samhain, she let herself be free. She’d let her neatly pinned hair down, discard her silk heels to dance barefoot, craft masks, and sing songs that made me dream of other worlds. My mother sang this particular song to me as a lullaby, and after her passing, I sing it to myself every night, thinking of her.

Take me up to the mountain’s ledge,

Take me through the forest’s hedge,

Through the darkness where no one goes,

To a realm where magic grows.

Riding on a silver steed,

Its ears so red they seem to bleed,

Through the darkness where no one goes,

To a realm where magic grows…

“Excuse me!” I call out, sidestepping a rather large woman pushing her way toward the musicians. “Coming through!”

I gasp for air as I escape the crowd, and to my relief, I spot Laoise, looking alright, even though she isn’t where I left her. A smile warms my face, and I let out a breath, straightening the creases in my skirt before I join her. Thank the gods.

“I’ve been looking for you.” A hushed voice breathes against my neck, wrapping a hand around my biceps.

I tug my arm free and turn to face the man behind me, ready to strike. Green eyes and red hair. Relief has me throwing my arms around his neck. “Declan!” I gasp.

“Were you expecting someone else?” he asks, smiling.

I step back, bringing my hand to my chest, my heart still racing. “I need to talk to you.” I look over my shoulder and see a few older ladies circling Laoise, draping her in furs as she giggles. I can spare a moment. Just one moment. My heart picks up its pace, knowing what I need to say. “Come with me.” Taking his hand, I lead him to a quiet spot behind a vendor’s wagon, which is closed and abandoned so its owners can enjoy the festivities. I don’t miss the smile that pulls at Declan’s lips as I lead him away from the crowd.

“Bryn…” He clears his throat.

I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off.

“Last night…” His gaze falls to his feet as he kicks at the dirt in the market square. “I know it must come as a surprise, but I meant every word.”

Don’t do this. Please don’t do this. He reaches up and tucks a curl behind my ear, grazing my neck with a lingering touch. I swallow, unable to find my voice.

“Bryn, I know we’ve been having fun. I know I promised that it all meant nothing more than moments of ecstasy, but Bryn, I know you have feelings for me, too. You don’t have to say anything, but I need you to know that you are everything to me.”

“But you’re leaving.” The words jump from my mouth, my first and only thought. My voice sounds like nothing more than a soft croak. If I was so important, he’d find a way to stay, wouldn’t he?

“If you were important enough, he’d take you with him at the very least.”

“You know why I have to.” No. No, I don’t. His hands run from my shoulders down my arms until my hands are resting in his. “I need to do this so we can make a life for ourselves, free from our parents.” He pauses, shutting his eyes. “We can make a home in another town once I have a title and enough money, but we can’t do that as refugees. I need to become good enough for you.”