Page 54 of The Washwoman at the River’s End

“They say a lot, don’t they?” I lean back, examining him for a moment. His posture is tight, the muscles in his arms bunched as if he’s holding himself back. I tap my foot, impatient for him to get to the point. “If you have a question, just ask it.”

He unfolds his arms, walking to his tent and grabbing an apple from his nearby rucksack. My mouth waters as he sits down, feigning nonchalance, but it doesn’t fool me. I can feel how unsettled he is. It prickles at my skin, and anticipation twists in my gut. What is he doing? Pretending to be unassuming so I will let down my guard? If he thinks he will surprise me with some sort of attack, verbal or otherwise, he is sorely mistaken.

He takes a bite. Casual. Calculated, and I lean back against the rocks, imitating his posture.

“Women have been going missing. Have you heard?”

My body betrays me, and I stiffen, confused. Is he actually asking me if I’ve heard, or is he accusing me of something?

“How would I have heard that?” I ask. “From the children who come here to beat me? Or do you think I receive updates in the post on the ongoings of the kingdom?”

His eyes flash at my sarcasm, but he quickly slips his mask of calm back on. “It’s one of the reasons the Fates sent me here, you know.” He takes another bite. “They want to make sure you’re not one of them.”

Annoyance flares in my chest. How could I possibly disappear when they’ve shackled me to this valley with wards to keep me put and a dragon to turn me to ash should I escape? “I think they’ve ensured that well enough, don’t you?” I rattle my chain. “Is that what all this” —I wave to him, pointing out without words that I don’t believe for a moment that he is unbothered— “is about? Women I’ve never even met disappearing?” The flash of anger that rolls through my body is white hot. “Not everything horrid that befalls the kingdom can be my fault, you know. I am not the only one in this realm who has been touched by evil.”

I don’t try to say the words with such fire, but they tumble out with venom behind them nonetheless.

“See, that’s what I’m not so sure about,” he says, taking a bite of his apple. “The husband of one of them, Hamish—he seems to think you had something to do with his wife disappearing. Said she came here and was never seen again. Long blonde hair. Green eyes. Vanished into thin air?”

Kenna’s face flashes through my mind, and I struggle to keep my face from betraying me. I can picture her perfectly. Long blonde hair, matted. Green eyes, bruised and swollen. Fear creeps along my shoulders, but I keep my spine straight and squeeze my hands together to keep them from shaking.

Brennen cannot learn where she went. No one can. I swore to myself I would keep her safe, and even if I think Brennen is trustworthy, I’m not willing to risk it.

“Like I said, it’s only the children who come. I’ve not seen anyone⁠—”

His eyes flash to his wrist, and the corner of his lips twitch into the slightest smile. It’s the first one I’ve seen, but it doesn’t bring me any joy. There’s too much triumph in it.

He lifts his arm, showing me his dàn.

Shite.

“Do you lie often?”

My breath stalls, my stomach plummeting as I realize my mistake. “I…” I stare at the dark lines, swallowing down the rest of the lies dancing on my tongue.

“It can’t be just children who visit, can it? You told me yourself when I arrived it was a man who’d caused your lip to bleed. And yet you say you’ve not seen anyone. He was the one who hurt you, wasn't it? The woman's husband?”

”I didn’t think—” I stumble over my words, my heart pounding. “You said women are disappearing.”

He shakes his wrist, giving me a closed-lip smile and tilting his head. I bite my tongue, afraid to admit more, but he simply sits there, waiting. But what can I say? That I sent her away but am not willing to tell him where to?

“He— The husband must be mistaken, if he thinks I did something to her,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “I am bound to this shore. How would I make her disappear?”

“Ah, well, you see.” He stands, brushing off his kilt, the movement so casual, I want to throttle him. Just ask your damn question, I want to say. I start to, but the smile falls from his face as he crosses his arms. “He doesn’t think she disappeared. He thinks you killed her.”

The words are a punch that steals the air from my lungs, and fury ignites in my blood. I did everything in my power to make sure she didn't end up dead. Because I’m certain that’s how Kenna’s story would have ended if she hadn’t escaped. I had allowed him to knock me unconscious, had rejoiced in that pain because I knew it meant she would be safe, and here this man is—a man who knows nothing about me—accusing me of being the one who harmed her.

“How dare you?” I hiss.

Brennen gestures to the water. “What? Don’t act like it’s not a reasonable thought. Here’s a whole river for you to drown her in, and the After waiting right there,” he says, tossing his apple up and down as he stares into the black mist.

“I would never hurt someone,” I say, but the words have no sting to them. He knows it’s not the truth. Even without his dàn, he knows what I’ve done.

Brennen wades into the water, and I hold my breath as he moves beyond my chain length. Shadows twist near him, but he stops just short of them, leaning forward to attempt to peer down into the black. He throws the half-eaten apple into the After, and it vanishes into the mist without a sound.

“See?” He turns to me, gesturing to the darkness. “The water keeps going. You could’ve killed her and sent her body downstream, and no one would ever know.”

I bristle, trying to come up with a reason why what he’s saying couldn’t be true. Because I know what he sees. A prisoner with blood-stained hands. One the villagers talk about with terror. Why would he believe me? I’ve lied to him, and he knows it.