Page 54 of A Land So Wide

“I think she was intrigued by the idea of a new world, a new continent to see, to explore, to feast upon,” Hessel mused.

“She had an insatiable hunger for more . That didn’t stop when she came to live in Mistaken, when I pulled her out of that tree.

Did you know she bought nearly all the books we have?

When merchant ships would dock, she was always the first to market, ready to see their wares, see what new things she could consume.

” His expression softened. “There is so much of her in you, Greer. The good parts, I mean. You have those hungers, too. Your wanderings, your maps. I…” He shook his head, discarding his next thought.

“What happened to her?” Greer asked softly, surprising herself. Every bit of Hessel’s story spawned a dozen questions within her. Questions that might never be satisfied. But this one could. “The day she died…you said there’d been an accident at the mill. But…Mama almost never went to the mill.”

“It was only a few days before the Hunt,” her father began.

The wind shifted, pelting a blast of snowflakes at them. Greer leaned toward Finn. She wasn’t as cold as she ought to be, but she did miss the comforting weight of his coat.

“I came home and discovered she was leaving. At first, she denied it, but when I tried to stop her, she changed. She was there and then she wasn’t, and in her place was this…

this thing . I’d never seen one of them before, but I knew exactly who she was.

What she was.” His eyes grew distant. “She said she had what she needed”—Hessel glanced toward Greer but didn’t entirely meet her stare—“and that she was leaving, returning to her mountain, returning to her kind. And then she took out this mess of briars and berries…”

“You killed her,” Finn guessed, his voice so full of sorrow. “Before she could put on her cloak, you killed her.”

Greer’s mouth dropped open. She didn’t like her father most days. She knew he wasn’t a good man, knew he was rarely an honest man, but she’d never considered him capable of murder.

He didn’t respond.

“Father?” she prodded.

“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate any further. He didn’t need to.

Greer’s hand shot to her lips, covering the gasp that wanted to escape. She wasn’t sure if she was going to plead for more information or cry.

“Before I…Before she…” His sigh was shaky.

“She told me what she’d done. Why she’d done it.

I know all about how you’re supposed to take her position, how you’re meant to replace her.

And that’s why I’m here. To take you back.

You’re not one of them, Greer. You know nothing of their ways, of what they’re capable of.

You belong in Mistaken, with your people. ”

“She’s just as much a part of us as she is of you,” Finn disputed, his eyes flashing as the remaining light began to fade from the late afternoon. A curtain of snow obscured him until all Greer could see was that bright glow.

Hessel laughed. “She’s nothing like any of you.”

Greer glanced toward her father, and his breath hitched sharply. He’d seen her eye-shine.

“What did you do to her? What have you…” Hessel stopped and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Let me and my daughter go.”

A dark laugh barked out of Finn. “Why the Devil would I do anything you want? You killed our queen. You killed her mother . You have no power here.” To prove it, he jerked hard on the ropes binding Hessel’s wrist. The force pitched the older man to the ground, making his knees crack against icy rocks.

Hessel remained bent over, breathing heavily. “I have it,” he whispered. “I know where it is.”

“What?” Finn tilted his head with a curiosity that made him look like an owl contemplating his next meal.

“Ailie’s skin. The brambles or cloak or whatever it is you call it. She said it was where her powers were kept. You’d want that, wouldn’t you? It’s important? Important to your…kind?”

Finn narrowed his eyes.

“Take my daughter and me back to Mistaken. Return us there safely—without a touch of harm befalling us—and it’s yours.”

Finn looked at Greer, shifting only his eyes. “Have you seen it? Ever? Anywhere in your house? At the mill?”

“Not since I was little. Not since Mama…” She swallowed, hardening her expression. “Not since you killed her,” she threw at Hessel.

“It’s there,” he promised. “I kept it where no one would ever come across it. Hidden so that no one would ever suspect what I’d married.”

Finn ignored the insult. “How do we know you didn’t burn it? Toss it out to sea?”

“He wouldn’t have,” Greer decided. “He’s too much of an opportunist. He’d know it might one day become useful.”

“And it has,” Hessel pointed out. “Take the offer, boy. You know you can’t resist it.”

Finn’s eyebrows furrowed, as though he might be truly considering it.

“Finn!” Greer exclaimed, horrified. “I’m not going back to Mistaken. Not without Ellis.”

He grabbed at the crook of her arm, pulling her aside.

“You need that cloak,” he hissed through clenched teeth, his breath fervent and hot in her ear.

“All of Ailie’s powers are in it. You’d have what she had.

You’d be queen without question. Even Elowen would have to concede that.

She’d back down. Immediately. You wouldn’t have to duel.

You wouldn’t have to fight. There’d be no need to—”

Before Finn could offer another point of persuasion, he was yanked back, his shoulder nearly pulled from its socket as the rope he held was torn away.

Hessel was gone—snatched high into the tree line, where he fought against a Bright-Eyed captor.

“Where’s the cloak?” Elowen demanded, holding him in her clutches, her great wings barely visible through the curtains of snow.

“Leave my daughter alone and it’s yours,” Hessel gasped, thrashing his legs through open air in a vain attempt to find purchase. The leather cords of his snowshoes snapped, plummeting the footwear into the darkness below. “I don’t care who has it. I’m not picking a side.”

“Tell me where it is and I won’t pick your spine out through your mouth,” Elowen countered.

“There’s no need for violence,” Hessel protested, his knuckles turning white as he clawed at her grip. “Just stay away from Greer. Please,” he added, his tone softening even as his struggles doubled. “Leave her out of all this.”

Elowen contemplated his offer. The force of her wings threw blinding pellets of snow. “No,” she decided, and hoisted him higher, bringing the soft flesh of his throat to her mouth. She sank her teeth in deep, then jerked away, ripping out his vocal cords to stop the screaming.

“No!” Greer cried out, racing across the clearing as a curtain of her father’s blood rained down. It splattered her face and soaked into her clothing, saturating everything with a slick, coppery heat.

Elowen flapped her wings, gaining elevation as she continued to feast. Hessel, unable to speak but not yet dead, squirmed against her deadly embrace, losing his pack in the process.

He floundered, attempting to push the queen from him.

But she was too strong, focused on her meal with an unbreakable concentration.

Soon his head lolled to the side, and Hessel Mackenzie moved no more.

Elowen soared off into the night, bubbling with dark laughter, and leaving Greer and Finn behind in a drift of red, steaming snow.