Chapter 1

Farley:

I screamed, falling backward as I tripped over a branch. The owl soaring above me, didn’t seem to care that he had nearly made my heart stop beating. He’d been hiding in a tree, probably waiting until I got close enough so that he could scare me. I wished I hadn’t given him the satisfaction.

My bottom had hit the ground of the woods, making the whole situation a lot worse. I had been innocently gathering berries for my mother, and the owl decided he was bored and wanted to ruin my day. He did that, as well as ruin my dress.

As I stood, I brushed the dirt off of the white skirt of my dress. The corseted top didn’t get damaged, and neither did my blue hooded cape. Mother hand stitched it herself, and it would have broken her heart if I brought it back to her with a tear in it. It also probably would have broken my wrist as punishment.

I gathered up my basket, and the berries that survived. My family expected me home in less than an hour, and I didn’t have time to replenish what I had lost. They would have known that I’d screwed up, and I wouldn’t hear the end of it.

I hurried through the woods, figuring out in my head how long it would have taken me to get back to the village. I had time to get to the berry bush, but not enough to pick the number I needed.

When I arrived, I glared up at the owl that come back to me. He flew above my head, gloating.

“You’re cruel,” I said to him. “Go away, you feathery bastard.”

He didn’t go away. He sat on a branch, staring at me. I stuck my tongue out at him.

The berry bushes stretched far, and contained more fruit than anyone in the village would need for the remainder of the season. I only needed to fill up a basket, but my time had run out.

“I could probably get away with this once… right?” I asked the owl. He didn’t respond.

I cleared my throat, and then snapped my fingers. The berries pulled themselves off of their stems, obeying my magic as they floated through the air. They went right into my basket as I looked around, making sure no one saw me. They all knew, but the villagers reacted better when they didn’t see me using magic. At least then, they could pretend for a little while that I didn’t terrify them.

My basket nearly spilled over with all the berries I’d collected, and that meant I could go home. I waved goodbye to the mean bird, and then started heading for my cottage.

The sun had started to set when I approached the edge of the woods, and I stopped for a moment to enjoy the view. In the distance, I saw my village outstretched, and the road that led to the castle of Hylaya, the kingdom I’d lived my entire sixteen years in. My family had lived here for more generations than I could count, and would for countless generations to come. I had an excellent chance living in Hylaya to witness it.

I stared at the castle in the distance, as I often found myself doing when I had nothing else to do. Everything about it looked grand and magnificent, with towers covered in climbing ivy, and gray stone that sparkled in the sunlight. I’d dreamt of being in that castle a million times, wishing I could stand at the top of a tower, and look out to the entire kingdom. It was foolish of me to waste so much time in daydreams, but they seemed so much better than the life I walked through. Hate didn’t exist in my daydreams, and I could move with freedom. No stares, and no fear.

Maybe I should leave this place. Go somewhere new, where no one knows what I am. I can start over, living in peace.

No, I can’t leave my family. Who would take care of them?

I picked up the bottom of my dress, and started heading down the hill. Mother would be angry with me if I didn’t get back in time, and I wasn’t in the mood to be beaten with a stick. It always felt worse when it was cold outside, and I could feel hints of snow coming.

When I reached the bottom of the hill, I met with the stone road that led to the village. Since dinner time approached, not many people lingered outside. I mostly saw the blacksmith working from his corner shop, and a few others doing some late shopping. They avoided my eyes, probably worried I would put a hex on them. I’d never given them a reason to think that, other than existing.

Even after all this time, my instinct still said to wave at the people I saw. I got glared at by the baker, who I should have known better than to greet.

“What do you want, girl?” he hissed at me. “Here to steal bread?”

“N-no, sir. I only wanted to say hello.”

The man looked me up and down. “Sure you did. Is that why you linger around?”

“I’m not. I was headed back home to my family.”

He set his axe against the small tree he’d been cutting in the front of his house. I watched him take several steps to me, but I didn’t move. “You don’t fool anyone, girl. We know that you’re rotten to the core. I see it in the pits of your eyes. I hear it in your voice.”

“You’re wrong,” I said. “I’m a good girl. I behave. What more do you want from me?”

“Your head on a spike while your body burns.”

His words didn’t scare me, because I had heard some version of that from every single frightened villager around me. So I stood tall. “I have nothing to prove to you, and I don’t have to listen while you threaten me.”

“Oh, don’t you? Are you telling me that you’ll use your magic if I dare to call you out on what you are?”

“I never mentioned my magic.”

“You didn’t have to.” The man stopped, and turned to eye the axe beside his tree. “You have your tools, and I have mine. Remember that. Remember that this village would praise me if I took care of our little witch problem. The king would knight me.”

I took a deep breath, reminding myself that if I threatened him back, then I would be all the things they thought me. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I only wanted to live my life.

“Have a good night,” I said to the baker, and then I left him where he stood.

“Remember!” he shouted at me. “You are not as powerful as you think you are.”

I ignored him as I rushed home.

I smelled dinner as I closed the door. Mother stood in the kitchen of our small home, stirring a pot at the stove. Father sat in his chair, reading a book he’d been working on for a few weeks. He didn’t greet me, though I said hello to him.

“Got the berries,” I said to Mother as I set them on the table.

She wiped her hands on her apron as she came over. “About time, Farley. You’re late.”

“Sorry, I got caught up with something.”

She cast her light blue eyes at me, irritated already. That happened a lot, but I had it coming.

I looked nothing like my family, and they always told me that had been the first sign something had been wrong with me. My mother stood at five feet, with mousy brown hair that she never kept longer than a few inches. Her icy blue eyes were a direct contrast to my deep blue ones. Same as my hair, matching no one in my family. While my father and older brother had yellow hair, mine ended up being white, with naturally occurring streaks of that same dark blue that could be found in my eyes. Though naturally occurring might not have been the right way to describe it. I’d had the blue since birth, but the white in my hair used to be yellow as well. A wicked woman had been the blame for that one.

I had about four inches on my mother, making her the shortest person in the family. My father and brother were both a couple inches under six feet. They had severe faces, with sharp features that made them look intimidating. I felt like I looked as a grown fairy might. My features were soft, and my face round. A little witch freak with a family of humans. I did not belong.

“Did you pillage the whole wood?” my mother asked. “What made you think we would use all of these berries? You’ve wasted them.”

She smacked the back of my head, making me wince in pain. “You didn’t tell me how many you needed, and I only took a little. Snow is coming soon anyway. In a couple days, the berries won’t be good.”

“Tell that to the baker’s wife when she scolds me for letting you take what she could have used. They might lose money if they can’t make their desserts. Did you think about anyone but yourself?”

I shook my head, and got hit again.

Mom took the basket into the kitchen, telling me to get out of her sight. I went into the other room, and sat across from my father after I removed my cloak. “Have you had a nice day?” I asked him.

Dad peeked around the edge of his book. “It’s like every other day, Farley. Why do you ask me that question?”

My cheeks got hot. “I was hoping you would say yes.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” he said, getting back to his book. “Maybe my day would have been better if I got to lounge about the house all day like you. Is it relaxing, not having to earn money to feed four people?”

I didn’t fight for myself on that one. He didn’t consider my chores to be work. Chopping wood or making piles outside of the cottage, cleaning, fetching things for Mother. No, I wasn’t worth as much as my brother, Coal, who earned money printing books.

“Would you like me to leave?” I asked.

Father didn’t look at me. “Where would you go?”

He didn’t want me to answer, so I stayed silent. The days went by easier if I stayed quiet.

Coal came into the house, smiling and holding a stack of books in his hands. “Father, I got you a present.”

The man set his own book down, returning the grin. “That you did. What did you bring me?”

Coal set the books down on a table, and got on his knees to go through the titles and stories with him. I had no place in the conversation, so I stared out the window instead of talking. I felt the cold weather leaking into the house, giving me a chill. It would be a long night in my sleeping area. My parents gave me a crawl space at the top of the house. When I laid on my back, I could watch the snow fall through the holes above me. I found it comforting, when I lacked blankets.

As my father went through the books, Coal picked one up, and stood. He handed it to me, avoiding my gaze. “I got you one too,” he said.

I took it. “Thank you. That was very kind.”

He said nothing more to me before walking away.