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Thoughts bubbled up, unable to be held down from years of abuse. When she was five and scolded for tracking dirt into the house. When she was seven and slept too long. When she was eight, for dropping a basket of eggs. When she was fourteen, and began to blossom.
I have an opportunity to take control of my life.
“You show no sign of ill intent, no desire to harm me.” Red voiced her observations. “You’ve brought me here, given me shelter and warmth, and protected me from being out in the forest overnight; the cold would certainly have killed me. I have a proposition.”
His black eyes narrowed, crow’s feet appearing in the corners. His eyebrows pulled down into slants, not angry, but curious. Disappointment darkened his expression at the thought of another person using him for what he was.
Before guilt or fear could control her, she told him the truth. “I need you to help me.”
He said nothing but met her eyes.
“I need you to protect me from the ones who sacrificed me. I need you to kill my grandmother and my father.”
20
OCLEAU
THE YEAR OF THE CURSE
JUNIPER
Dew drops lined the dying grass. With the cold coming, there was scarcely anything left alive, but the forest still thrummed with ancient power. Juniper heaved the bag of flour into the corner of the cellar and covered it with a moth-eaten blanket. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she smiled, sensing the critters hiding out down there for the winter.
“Now, don’t indulge too much,” she said to them.
The mice and other small animals’ eyes were iridescent in the faint light coming from above as they peeked out from their hiding spots. Juniper left the cellar and breathed in the fresh air. Sensing her familiar in the woods, she quietly shut the cellar door and approached the unnamed doe.
“You look well,” she said to the animal as she approached. She stroked the coarse hair and felt it prickle her palm. A divot in the doe’s neck never grew hair back and was smooth like a river stone. Juniper had found the deer as a fawn, near death with a gash on her neck. She had swaddled the fawn in her coat, brought it home, and nursed it back to health.
Juniper smiled fondly at the memory. You have work to do, she told herself.
The doe, not needed by her witch, dipped her head and gently loped back into the expanse of trees.
Juniper looked at the house where she was raised, thinking about her brother inside. He returned cold and closed off after he had brought Ana home. What felt like hours ago was days now; a sense of distrust disrupted the comfort she and her mother had when it was just the two of them. Juniper was surprised Matthias came home after seeing Ana in such a tumultuous state. But he did come back, just like Mama said, Juniper thought. Because he was forced to. A selfish part of her wanted her brother to stay, but the part of her that loved him knew he was better off leaving.
She took a deep breath to steady herself before entering the house. She tended to the food for the week while she thought about how to get her mother out for a few hours. I must speak with Matthias alone, she thought.
“Mama,” Juniper called from the kitchen. Her face was red and slicked with sweat from working in such close proximity to heat. Her wrists bore burn marks from misjudging the distance between the hot flames and the pot she cooked in. “Mama!”
Azalea’s voice arrived before she did. “Yes, child?”
“We have run low on flour, yeast, spices—how have our stocks run so low this early into the season?” Juniper spotted the look in Azalea’s eye. She knows, Juniper thought. She knows I want Matthias alone.
Azalea rolled her eyes back as though to glance at Matthias’s room, where he was still asleep. She did not respond but crossed the kitchen. She opened the cupboard and frowned when she confirmed their stocks were running low. With a furrowed brow, she looked at Juniper and commanded, “You must go into town to get more before the town itself runs dry.”
“No, Mama, I have my hands full here,” Juniper pleaded. “Could you do it just this once, please?”
Azalea glowered. She rarely left the house unless absolutely necessary. “I will get your brother to do it.”
“Oh, Mama, you know how he always gets the wrong things,” Juniper persisted. “I ask him for dried sage, he brings me rosemary. He will not get what we need, and then I will have to fetch what he missed. It becomes a waste of time and coin, both of which we are short on.”
Azalea’s expression was pinched, but Juniper could see she was about to agree.
Juniper had a way about her, an aura that made everyone adore her. She knew she could have anyone wrapped around her finger. But she was too soft, too modest to con others into doing things for her. A hardworking girl who did what she needed to survive the day, Juniper prided herself in her ability to make people trust her—and she was a trustworthy person in most cases.
“Very well.” Azalea sighed. “Wake up that brother of yours, though. He cannot sleep in this house and eat our food without contributing.”
“More firewood?” Juniper asked, pleased that she would be alone with Matthias for at least the next hour.
