Page 46

Rook

We waited below the crest of a grassy knoll on the border of the Hollow, beneath a tree chosen by Evette.

High above, a bit of fabric hung from a branch.

“I proposed to Jean here,” she said. “I wanted to carve our names in the bark, but Jean wouldn’t have me damaging a yew.

He climbed the branches and tied my scarf up there.

” She pointed. “He was quite the climber. He said no one would be mad enough to remove it. I disagreed. That’s colossal araneae silk—cost my father five cows.

I figured it would be gone the next morning.

” She waved at the scarf. “I was wrong.”

And so, we waited beneath Evette’s happy memory.

Lysander paced, rubbing his neck and staring anxiously up the hill.

Evette sat, leaning against the yew. She didn’t move; I’m not even certain she blinked as she stared at the hill, waiting for her children.

Finally, when Lysander had trod a fine path through the grass, Evette said, “Did I ever tell you how I met your father?”

Lysander scrunched his face in recollection. “No.”

“Come. Sit next to me.”

Each time Evette mentioned her husband, the love I’d stolen, my guts knotted.

This time, when I buried my head in my hands, Evette snapped, “Stop that,” and patted the ground beside her, the spot Lysander hadn’t taken.

“This is a happy story.” When I made no move, Evette repeated, “ Sit ,” with such authority I obeyed.

As I sat beside Evette, I noted the musky smell I’d come to associate with those who shared my curse, but Lysander…smelled only of human sweat. This discovery didn’t carry sadness with it; it warmed me.

Lysander’s family loved him.

His future was unwritten, and he might choose his own path forward. Whether Lysander decided to become a hound, to find a human and settle down, or some other desire unknown to the rest of us, he might rest easy knowing:

He would always be loved.

“Lysander,” Evette said, “you’ll be familiar with this part, but I’ll recount it for Everard’s sake.

” After a deep breath, Evette began. “My parents were wealthy— very wealthy. My mother owned a large estate across town. Jean’s father was one of the groundskeepers, and, eventually, Jean was hired too.

Like Liliwen, he had a gift; he made the most incredible garments.

” Evette fidgeted, spinning a ring. “This is probably going to be new for Lys, but I… I wasn’t a kind person, especially not to your father.

” Not once had I questioned Evette’s kindness.

Sure, she was uncomfortably frightening at times, and her manner of speaking was rather commanding, but not unkind.

“One day,” Evette continued. “I cornered Jean and asked how he could make such beautiful pieces. He replied, so proudly, that he gathered items in the Hollow. The Hollow was dangerous, even then. In my mind, it took a special sort of foolishness to enter, and I made sure he knew as much. I told him all the effort in creating him must have gone to his fingers, and none to his head. Only an idiotic halfwit would visit the Hollow.” While Evette wasn’t entirely wrong, both Lysander and I winced.

“I know,” she murmured, cringing herself.

“Anyway, as you can imagine, he avoided speaking to me. Which I was fine with…at first.” Evette’s brows furrowed.

“Jean was effortlessly beautiful, and kind, and oh, how he vexed me! When he passed me in the halls, I swore I’d forget to breathe.

” Evette paused, perhaps seeing him in her memory.

“Jean had no education, no money, and yet, all I wanted was for him to look at me, and I hated him for it. How dare he preoccupy my thoughts so?”

I knew that feeling well. When Liliwen came to me, I’d treated her miserably.

I insulted her intelligence at every turn, underestimated her skill, and yet…

she consumed my thoughts, knocking out every single thing I conjured to distract myself.

Lying in bed, I knew there was a beautiful woman, just upstairs, within my grasp.

The desire to take her was incredible—to take her and love her and never let her escape.

I’d been so furious, for being able to think of nothing but her.

“Well,” Evette continued, “one day, when I was in town, I caught sight of Jean leaving the apothecary. He didn’t head back to our estate.

Instead, he walked into the Hollow.” Evette pulsed her brows.

“I followed him.” She laughed. “I thought, I must have overestimated the danger. If this dullard could survive out there, how hard could it be? Well!” Evette’s eyes bugged. “I suppose you know how wrong I was.”

Lysander chuckled. “Something got you?”

“Fae,” Evette said with a laugh. “Immediately!”

Fae were plentiful back then; the Hollow was full of them. Wrinkling my nose, I examined the branches above, and I did not mention how I knew the fae were delicious.

“I didn’t stand a chance. Disguised as a fox, the fae snapped my leg like it was a chicken bone. As the fae was about to eat me, Jean appeared.”

“How’d you escape?” Lysander asked.

“He tricked it, offered it milk laced with some concoction of herbs. While the creature choked, Jean carried me from the Hollow. I realized then how cunning and clever your father really was. He taught himself how to survive in that place. No book ever taught me that. I think… I think I loved him before that day, but that day, I realized how brave he was, and I knew I could be brave too. Despite my parents' wishes, I pursued Jean. My parents hated him, and they hated me. How could I do this to them? Falling in love with one of the hired boys? They disowned me without a second thought. I remember my mother’s words, ‘I will mourn your loss.’” Evette chuckled.

“It seemed like such a silly thing to say to a living child. I didn’t understand it then, and I thought maybe it would make more sense when I had my own children.

But…now I’m a mother, and I understand it even less.

” She patted Lysander’s leg and sighed. “It was hard at first, but it got easier. And I had Jean. When his father passed, we moved out to the cottage.”

Lapsing into silence, Evette stared at the stars.

“I had seventeen wonderful years with Jean,” she whispered.

“That’s more than many people get.” Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of tears slipping down Evette’s face.

Lysander held her knee, comforting her. Evette patted him and covered her mouth, stifling a sob.

“I’m so grateful for those years,” she cried.

Biting back tears, I rubbed Evette’s back.

I hadn’t thought it possible to need Lili to crest that hill any more than I did a few minutes ago.

I was wrong.

Lysander sniffled. He brought a hand to his face, shielding his eyes.

Evette leaned over and bumped him. “Your father loved us; he never would have left us if given the choice,” she said, with such beautiful confidence.

“He would have done anything to survive, and it’s his blood that runs wild in your sisters’ veins.

” Tears gone, a stony resolve settled over Evette.

“They will do anything to come back to us.”

Slowly, we turned to watch the hill.