Hidden (Book 1) (12 page)

Before the sun lit the tops of the trees, they arrived
in the village. Bastian kept his hand on the pommel of his sword, still
convinced treachery might await them. The man knew too much and exactly how to
leash their hearts to his
will
. Despite wanting to
kill him and move on with Tressa, the boy in Bastian had to know the truth.

Was his mother still alive? Had she
kept her promise to see him again? And would he even recognize the woman who’d
been elevated to ultimate perfection in his mind?

Despite the law not to bear arms, for
years he’d trained with the sword in private. It had been his goal to go into
the fog and find his mother. Bring her back. Everyone thought he belonged in
the forge because of his strength. Little did they know the strength came from
the secret training, driven by only one
goal.

When he began to look at Tressa as
more than just a playmate and friend, his focus shifted to protecting her. The lengths he went to save her from the
fog were successful, until the last choosing. Someone thwarted his efforts,
rigged the game. He swore if he ever found out
who
,
they’d die by his hand. Slowly. Painfully.

He volunteered to go with her, only
to be with her in the moment she died. He never suspected, not for a moment,
that they’d take another breath in the fog. It was a death sentence. If it
wasn’t
, his mother would have come back for him. Wouldn’t
she?

Inside a thick copse of trees far
away from the road stood four cottages. Crudely constructed, but his sharp eye
told him they were more solid than they appeared.
A trick for
the casual onlooker.
In fact, the entire settlement appeared abandoned.
The stones surrounding the fire pit listed to the side, sloppy and forlorn.
Bastian sauntered over to it. Just as he suspected – the fire had been
put out with water, ashes scattered. It looked old. It was only another
well-constructed illusion.

“The trees block the firelight in the
evening.
At least most of it.
We’re very cautious.”

Bastian didn’t turn around to see
whose voice it was. He already knew. It was the same one that had sung to him
every night before bed when he was afraid of monsters lurking in dark corners.
The same voice that had soothed him when he tripped and skinned his
knee.
The same voice that had promised she would be back for him.

A hand fell on his shoulder.
Light as a feather, but weighted with so many bittersweet memories
and unresolved expectations.

“Mother,” he said, turning around.

“You used to call me Mama.” A
tentative smile graced her face. She’d once had a full head of red hair. Now silver
strands of hair reflected the sunlight. A few more wrinkles than he remembered
had settled around her eyes. Other than that, she was the same woman whose
skirts he hid behind when kids more clever and quick of tongue teased him.

“You didn’t come back.” Childish?
Perhaps. What else was to be expected around his mother? “I don’t know you as I
once did.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to get
back. After what I went through in the fog, nearly losing my life half a dozen
times to beasts I couldn’t see…” Her voice trailed off. “I don’t even remember how I ended up
outside the fog. Fenn, Tressa’s father, he found me and carried me here. I woke
up in that cottage,” she pointed to the first one on the left, “and began life anew.
It was months before I could use my arm again. Even now it’s not as it was.”
She shrugged, a smile on her face. “It’s enough, though. It’s far better than
being dead.”

Bastian reached out, pulling his
mother into his arms. The last time he’d seen her, he fit into her embrace, but
now it was the opposite. He held her as if she were the child and he the adult.
Her small stature surprised him. She’d always seemed like such a giant, her
personality more boisterous than anyone else. Now he knew it was to make up for
her petite size.

“I missed you, Mama.” Bastian rested
his chin on her head. “I waited for you. Every day for years.”

She rubbed his back. “I know. I
thought of you every day, too. I still do. Even this morning, I woke up and
said a prayer for your safety and happiness.”

He pulled back, releasing her from
his embrace, and becoming an adult again. “Do you remember Flora? She had a son
named Connor?”

His mother nodded. “Of course. You
two played together as babies.”

“He was captured after we emerged
from the fog. Taken to the city and sacrificed to what we believe was a
dragon.”

Her hands flew to her mouth,
trembling. “Not another.”

Bastian’s eyebrows furrowed.
“Another? This is a common occurrence?”

She shook her head. “Every year, they
sacrifice a man to the beast. We don’t know why. We’ve been attempting to find
out, but no one knows unless they are in the queen’s inner circle.” Jayne put
her hand on Bastian’s back. “Come, let’s join the others by the fire. They will
tell you more. I’m a relative newcomer to the village.”

“But you’ve been here for close to
fifteen years.”

Her eyes sought out the grass in
front of them. The scent of the fire beckoned them closer. Bastian’s mouth
watered at the thought of a hot meal. All they’d managed to eat was what had
been left in their packs after leaving Hutton’s Bridge.

“There aren’t many of us, Bastian.
Only a handful.
We haven’t seen a survivor from our village
in ten years. To find you alive was more than we could have ever hoped for.”

“Thanks to that little owl.” Bastian
pointed at Tressa. She’d already relaxed around her father, warming to him
quickly. Tressa was always like that, even though she insisted she was a shy
girl. Bastian envied her social skills. He didn’t particularly like talking to
people – mainly because he didn’t like most people. Even if Tressa didn’t
like someone, she could still put
them
at ease. “When
she sits on Tressa, her eyes glow purple.”

His mother looked at him in surprise.
“Whose eyes?”

“Tressa’s.” He glanced back her. She
looked over her shoulder and waved. A year ago he would have killed for her to
acknowledge him even once. Now she was his again. Or at least she was last
night. There were no guarantees anymore.

“Really? That’s odd.” His mother
looked at the owl again.

Bastian held back a laugh. “Do you
really expect her to respond?”

“No,” Jayne laughed. “Of course not.”

Bastian waved his hand in the air. “The
owl saved our lives. I didn’t trust her, but now,” he looked around again at
the small village, “I’m convinced.”

“I’m sorry Stacia got to you first.”
His mother laid a hand on his arm. “We were watching, but it was too late.”

Bastian was going to respond that it
wasn’t her fault until Tressa waved to him, motioning them over to the fire.
She held a bread bowl in her hands and took a giant slurp from it. “It’s
vegetable stew. Your favorite!”

Had she forgotten anything from their
time together? He still knew the cut of her underthings and the little noise
she made when he nipped at her neck. Also that freesia was her favorite scent.
But her favorite food?
He was hard pressed to remember. She
always seemed to like everything he brought her.

Tressa scooted on the log, patting
the spot next to her. Bastian swung a leg over and straddled the log next to
her. He slid in, wrapping an arm around her waist. She didn’t flinch like he’d
feared. Instead she snuggled closer and raised the bread bowl to his lips.
“Have some,” she whispered.

The warm
liquid
streamed down
his throat, filling his stomach.

Fenn laughed. “Even after a few years
together, they act like a newly coupled pair.”

Bastian looked at Tressa out of the
corner of his eye. She didn’t deny it, so neither would
he.
Instead, Tressa laid a heavy kiss on his cheek. “We’ve loved each other since
we were children. I hope our feelings never change.”

“I saw that, even when you were very
young. The two of you always had a special connection. Perhaps Sophia
manipulated the Coupling. It wouldn’t be the first time.” Jayne winked at Fenn.
“I seem to remember you ending up with the one you wanted as well.”

A haunted smile fell over
Fenn’s
face. “It’s true. I’m sure my grandmother had a hand
in our chance to couple. I’m just lucky we were able to conceive.” He glanced
at Tressa. “It wasn’t until our last night together that your mother became
pregnant with you. The day before she was to choose another ribbon, three
months to the day of our last time together, it was confirmed that she was
pregnant.” He let out a deep sigh. “I just wish she would have lived long
enough to see you smile the first time.”

“I’m sorry, Papa.” Tressa tasted the
sweet word on her lips for the first time. She reached over and patted his arm.
“Granna always told me how hard it was for you after she died. It was as if a
part of you died too.”

“Yes, well, luckily the two of you
haven’t known heartbreak like that,” he said.

Bastian gripped
Tressa tighter.
All
was made right now.

“Lucky us,” Bastian echoed. “Now all
we have to do is find a cure for the plague in Hutton’s Bridge.”

“That’s right.” Tressa pushed her
hair behind her ears. “We need to find someone with healing knowledge. We’ll
find someone in the town to come with us into the fog.”

“It’s a death wish.” Fenn wiped his
hands on his trousers and stood. He stalked around the fire. “You can’t go
back. Everyone saw Bastian. I saw enough to recognize who he was. It’s not
safe.”

“Then I guess we’re going to die.”
Tressa ground the dirt with a toe. “We have to get medicine for Hutton’s
Bridge. We couldn’t save Connor. We have to save the rest of them. Are you with
me?” She looked at Bastian, her eyes wide.

He wanted grab her head, pull her
close, and kiss her. “Of course.”

She gave his a tug. “Good, then.
Let’s get cleaned up. We can get started on a plan tomorrow morning. Today, we
rest.”

Bastian stood up, stumbling a bit as
he trailed after her. She was just as fearless as she’d always been. Fighting
for their village now, even when the stakes were high. It was what he wanted,
too. As always, they wanted the same thing.

Tressa emerged from the cottage into the dark of
night, too energized to sleep. Bastian had tired out quickly, snoring only
moments after they’d finished making love. Tressa had lain in the dark, eyes
wide and thoughts whirling in her mind.

She sat on the log, stirring the
remnants of the fire. The ash rustled and surrounded Tressa in a smoky embrace.
She shivered in the cool night air.

“Cold?”

She turned and squinted into the
darkness. Her father approached, holding out a wool blanket.

“Thanks.” Tressa wrapped it around
her shoulders. The grey fibers scratched at her neck. It smelled of the forest
– pine needles, damp grass, and decomposition.

“I’m worried about Bastian going into
town with you.” Fenn sat on the log next to his daughter. “Too many will
recognize him.”

Tressa nodded. “I thought the same.
But he’d never agree to waiting here while I went alone.”

Fenn stretched out his legs. His blue
breeches made his legs almost invisible in the dark. He took a deep breath. “I
have medicine here. The kind that might save the others in Hutton’s Bridge.”

The embers provided little light. The
look of shock on her face went unseen. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“No one else knows. I wanted it safe,
just in case.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not that I don’t trust the
others. It’s complicated. You don’t know what it’s been like here. We’re
together, but only Jayne and I are committed to the lifestyle. The others might
take the medicine in the night, trade it for goods.”

“Where are the others?” Her father
had mentioned them more than once, but she’d seen no one other than him or
Jayne.

“Out. Collecting food, supplies, that
sort of thing. It’s rare for all of us to be here at once. The medicine is
something I stole not long ago. I probably shouldn’t keep it hidden, but something
deep inside told me to.”

Tressa nodded. “You’re only trying to
do what’s right. Just like Granna always did. Even when it wasn’t the popular
choice, she made the right one.”

“I knew you’d understand.” Fenn took
Tressa’s hands in his. “You’ve grown up to be a wise and beautiful young woman.
I’m proud of you.”

A flutter in Tressa’s chest startled
her. His approval meant more to her than she thought it would. She’d never
missed him because she had Granna. How could she miss someone she’d never
known? Yet, here she was, absorbing his attention like a dry sponge.

“Thank you.”

“I’ve been trying for years to get
close to Stacia.
To kill her.
But I haven’t done it
yet.” He kicked a pebble into the fire pit. It fell through the ashes as easily
as a raindrop through a low cloud.

“Why kill her?” Tressa held back a
yawn. The exhaustion of the last few days was finally getting to her.

Fenn gestured toward the trees. “Her
mother did this to us. Commissioned her magicians to erect a wall of fog around
Hutton’s Bridge. Stacia maintains it. It’s her fault our people continue to
suffer.” He slammed a fist into his leg. “If Hutton’s Bridge were free, we
could easily get them medicine. It’s just a suicide mission now.”

Tressa thought it through, her mind a
jumble with ideas. Her father had medicine they could attempt take back to
Hutton’s Bridge. Yet
they’d always be imprisoned by the fog
and the beast within
.
Unless someone killed Stacia.

“Instead,” he continued in the silent
night, “people are dying. If someone could overthrow Stacia…”

“Maybe I could.” It was only a
whisper on Tressa’s lips. Since the moment Connor died so brutally, she wanted
Stacia to suffer a similar fate.

Fenn shook his head. “Absolutely not.
You’re too unfamiliar with the town. You don’t know enough. You’d never be able
to do it.”

“If I could get close enough, I could
do it. I know I could.” Tressa’s heart pounded. Connor’s mutilation replayed,
the scent of blood still fresh in her memory. Her fingernails dug into her
palms. Through the treetops, the stars twinkled at her. She’d never seen them
so clear or bright until that moment. The world opened up to her. She was
outside the fog in a land most people in Hutton’s Bridge believed was just an
old tale. She was living the impossible.

“No.” Fenn placed a hand on her arm.
“I won’t allow it.”

She looked at her father, his face
covered in the shadows of night.
The shape of his chin, the
rise of his cheekbones.
Yes, they were father and daughter. That much
she believed. She would do what he hadn’t. “I’ll leave just before dawn. Don’t
tell Bastian where I’ve gone. Convince him to wait here for me. Tell him to
trust me.”

Her father nodded. “There’s nothing I
can do to stop you?”

“No.”

Fenn wrapped his arms around his
daughter, pulling her into a hug. “Then I will pray for your safety. I want
nothing more than to see you again.”

“You will. I promise.”

“There is something else I wanted to
ask of you.”

“Anything,” she said.

“Did you happen to bring any honey
with you from the village? I haven’t tasted it in years. You’d be surprised how
much a man misses something so simple.” Fenn laughed.

“I do have some. I’ll leave it for
you.”

Fenn smiled. “Thank you.”

***

Tressa awoke in the dark of night.
She’d slept fitfully, waiting for the hours to pass and silence to permeate
their small encampment. His blanket askew, moonlight touched all the places on
Bastian’s body Tressa never wanted to forget. Her gaze lingered for only a
moment more. Leaning over, she kissed him gently on the forehead. Once Bastian
was asleep, it would take an army to raise him before sunlight.

Knowing that allowed her to do what
needed to be done. Tressa slipped her shoes on her feet, pulled her gown over
her shoulders, tying a knot in the strings that kept it from falling down and
exposing too much cleavage.

She pulled a cloak over her clothes,
resting the hood on her head. “I love you,” she whispered to Bastian, “and I’m
sorry.”

The wooden door unlatched and opened
without a sound, letting the cold air seep in like death’s silent keen. A
rustling in the leaves, gave her pause. She rested her hand on the door,
waiting for another sound.

Stay. Wait. Help.

Tressa shook her head, hoping the
little owl could see her in the dark. She didn’t dare utter a word for fear of
waking anyone. Before she could change her mind, Tressa ran across the open
area in the center of the cottages. She darted into the woods.

Walking through the remainder of the
night wasn’t easy. Not only was she alone,
but
she was
afraid of what lie in wait for her in the dark. Without the skill or strength
to fight back against a battle-hardened foe, Tressa knew she didn’t stand a
chance. The cover of night was her only ally and she would use every second of
it she could to get to the town.