Page 23 of A Land So Wide

D espite the cold, despite the mist settling in so heavily it might as well have been rain, despite the dread hanging over the town like funeral shrouds, despite it all, the girls of Mistaken looked lovely.

The girls were all rosy faces and excited eyes. They wore light capes in alluring shades over dresses short enough for men to sneak quick glimpses of ankles and lace-trimmed underskirts. Heads were left uncovered, so that all might see and admire the beautiful braids and ribbons pinned in place.

Greer pulled her heavy, long cloak around herself more tightly, feeling chilled just looking at them.

Hadn’t their mothers warned them? Didn’t they understand how long they might have to wait?

Making her way through the crowd of young women laughing too loudly, brazenly running their hands up the arms of the Hunters, and batting their eyes at whoever paid notice, Greer had never felt so old or tired.

Had she ever looked at Ellis with such swoony, forlorn eyes, with such a fevered intensity of hope and yearning? They’d loved each other for so long and with such equal measure, it was hard to remember.

Her heart hurt for these girls—and they were girls, no matter what the Stewards said—so full of wonderings and wants.

Wanting to be noticed, to be found unique and irresistible. Wanting to be courted and wooed. Wanting for so many things other than the roles they currently played.

Schoolgirl.

Sister.

Friend.

Daughter.

Greer hoped that, by day’s end, each of these fresh-faced girls would be found by a lad who would care for her and appreciate all the things that made her her own person, not just the position she’d been assigned.

She hoped that they’d find comfort in each other, each having a hand to hold as the Warding Stones shifted and the skies filled with blood.

She hoped they’d find the right someones to be with, to stand beside in the face of uncertainty and peril.

For the good of the town .

Mistaken gathered on the edge of the Hunting Grounds, waiting for the Stewards to declare the Hunt begun.

A heightened merriment was rippling through the crowd.

People laughed and smiled, waved and called out to neighbors.

It was as though the entire community had decided to forget the horrors of the night before, if only for this one day.

For the good of the town .

The scent of the Hunters’ feast made her stomach growl, and Greer longed to grab a hot biscuit stuffed with thick cuts of hot bacon and sharp mustard.

She paused, thinking of the day to come.

An empty stomach would be far better than one queasy with too-rich food.

Greer took a sourdough roll instead and stuffed it into her satchel alongside a small flask of water.

The young women would be sent first, so they could race to find a spot among the trees and tall grasses, the brambles and thickets.

They’d hunker against the cold and begin their wait.

Half an hour later, the Hunters would come.

They’d roam the woods, the clearing, and the meadows with sharp eyes, searching for their intended prey.

Greer could feel those sharp eyes on her now, acutely aware of every lad taking note of what she wore, of the color of her cape.

The lure of Hessel’s fortunes could prove hard to resist, even if they had to marry Greer to get it.

Their open stares made her squirm. They might be kind, some of them might even be good, but she didn’t know anything about these men, and she was certain they couldn’t say a single thing of her.

Who would pin their entire future on a virtual stranger?

Men who are not so good, Greer decided. Men who are not so kind, she thought, watching as one met her gaze and licked his lips with unguarded suggestion.

Thank God I have Ellis, she thought, feeling guilty and sad for all these other girls who would have to contend with the likes of these hungry men.

But where was Ellis?

Where was Louise?

Greer studied the tables, packed with Hunters eating their gluttonous fill and the girls who didn’t know any better. Neither of the Beauforts were there, or in the crowds gathering farther off.

The Stewards had said Louise was to run…Where was she now?

A crack of gunfire ripped the air open, signaling the young women to make their way to the start of the Hunting Grounds. The flags flanking the gate waved lazily.

Greer looked about wildly, trying to find Ellis. Where had the morning gone? She’d thought they’d go over their strategy one final time and steal a quick kiss.

But the crowd was too thick, and she couldn’t see him anywhere.

She did, unfortunately, spot Lachlan Davis.

“See you soon,” he mouthed to her, smiling wickedly.

With a shudder, Greer joined a group of girls who looked as nervous as she felt. Now that the moment was here, bravado was stripped away, and smiles began to wobble. Some had to be all but pulled from parents who called out final words of encouragement and good wishes.

Still Greer scanned the crowds, desperate for any sign of the Beauforts.

She needed to see Ellis—just once—before the cannon fired. She needed to see his smile. She needed to find Louise.

Hessel Mackenzie and the other Stewards made their way to the front of the crowd, climbing a platform that had been hastily assembled at dawn.

“Good morning,” Hessel began, his voice booming in the cold, crisp air.

Greer tried to duck to the back of the group, anxiety spreading in her chest, but several of the younger women gave her horrified looks, as though ignoring the Stewards, ignoring her own father, was a crime.

With resignation, she turned back to the front.

The Beauforts were there, in the crowds, somewhere. They must be.

“It has been more than one century since our forefathers came to this land, arrived at this cove, and—caught in the grip of the Warding Stones—settled Mistaken. It has not been an easy road. At times, it’s felt impossible to go on.

It would be easy to give up, to say that the work is too hard, that our unusual circumstances are too severe.

But we never have. Mistaken has always been a community of forward thinkers.

We do what we can, and we do what we must. We carry out this Hunt, daring to believe that, in another century, our town will still be here, blessed and thriving. ”

Cheers rose, first from the Hunters, then from their quarry, and finally from the rest of the town. Women clapped and men whistled, and through all their celebration, Greer searched for the Beauforts.

Where were they?

“And so, good townspeople of Mistaken, I declare the thirteenth Hunt now officially under way! Ladies, I wish you good hiding, and, lads—even better luck!”

After a playful wink from Hessel, the town’s cannon fired, from its place high atop Barrenman’s Hill. Greer covered her ears, wincing as the blast ripped through the air. It deafened everyone, leaving the group dazed.

“Go on!” the Stewards urged, waving their hands to spur the girls into action. “Your time has begun—go on!”

“Greer!” a voice shouted over the chaos, and her heart brightened.

She fought her way round girls who raced by, heading into the trees, wanting to find the best spots first. There were too many bodies jostling in too little space, and for a moment, Greer feared she’d be dragged away. Men pressed forward as the girls left, watching their progress with hungry eyes.

But then there he was, right beside her. Ellis swept her into a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said, struggling to be heard over the mêlée. “I was so scared I was going to miss you, and there’s something I need to—”

“It doesn’t matter; you’re here now,” she said, cutting him off as her mouth found his.

The kiss was long and sweet and exactly as she’d imagined it would be.

She cupped his cheeks, reveling in how good it felt to kiss him in public.

Though the Hunters would claim their prey all throughout the afternoon, here and now, she’d openly declared hers. “I love you, Ellis Beaufort.”

Greer was surprised to see tears prick his eyes. Ellis pressed a long kiss to her forehead; his fingers ran over her face, her arms, as if he were trying to memorize every bit of her.

“You need to hide,” he urged. “Find the best spot you can, and stay there. Don’t move, don’t make a sound. Don’t let anyone find you.”

“Not till you,” she promised.

He smiled but it looked off, smaller than it should. “Not till me. Go!”

Startling into action, Greer made her way to the gate and ducked through the opening. She dared one last glance back at Ellis.

“Come find me,” she whispered.

The Hunting Grounds were a long strip of fallow fields, untouched forests, and, at their very end, a vast meadow of tall grasses and wildflowers. Greer would need to run at full sprint to make it to Ailie’s tree before the Hunters were released.

As she plunged into a patch of brambles, she heard the voice once more, and it stopped Greer dead in her tracks.

“What are you running from, little Starling?”

She shook her head. Thorns clung to her skirts and cloak, trying to snare her in place, trying to hold her so she would be easy prey for the first Hunter passing through this thicket.

“Leave me alone,” she snarled, fighting to free herself.

“We don’t run from anyone,” it persisted.

“Enough!” she growled, eliciting a gasp from the thicket to her right. Greer squinted and saw the concerned eyes of Madeline Montrosse peeking from the foliage of a tea bush.

“Are you unwell? You look…strained.”

Mad.

Greer knew what she meant to say, and Madeline wasn’t wrong.

What else would you call it, shouting at people who weren’t there, on the one day of your life you were meant to be as sneaky and silent as you could?

Mad indeed.

“I’m fine,” Greer assured her. “Just…all these brambles.”