It took a moment for my mind to register that the scream had come from behind me. I turned my head to peek past my mother's protective embrace.
The man had dropped the hoe handle, and both of his hands were clutching his head. Behind the troublemaker was a man atop a horse, holding the riding crop that had been used to strike.
The newcomer was handsome, with a clean-shaven face and chestnut hair. His clothes were embroidered with silken thread, and his boots gleamed in the sunlight. His expression was twisted with anger, his brown eyes locked on the man he had struck.
Mother gasped when she saw him. "Leo!"
"Leonidas," a deep voice called from afar.
Two more riders appeared from around the corner, nudging their horses forward in an unhurried manner. The first was an older man, with streaks of gray through his brown hair. The second was a man who closely resembled Leonidas, only slightly older. Both of them were also dressed in expensive clothes as if they were on their way to visit the lord in his castle.
I rarely came to the village, but I had never seen such unnecessary finery before. Most of the villagers dressed humbly, even though there was plenty of prosperity to go around. I suddenly was hyperaware of my dirty face and wished I had let Mother comb my hair.
Mother shrank back as soon as she saw the newcomers. She pushed me behind her to shield me from sight.
The older man surveyed the situation. His black eyes grew icy when they passed over my mother. He turned to the man who had protected us, speaking through stiff lips. "What are you doing, Leonidas? There is no need for such behavior."
Leonidas lowered his riding crop. His expression became carefully blank as he bowed his head to the older man. "Forgive me, Father. I didn't mean to embarrass you."
The man nodded absently, turning his gaze back to the original troublemaker. "My apologies, Master Hove. My son is young and impulsive."
The bearded man spat on the ground. "Save it, Westerly. You can't hide your nature behind your empty words."
Westerly—my grandfather—gestured broadly with his hand. "Such animosity is unnecessary, Master Hove. I think we all can agree that I didn't participate in this exchange."
A small crowd was starting to form. The expressions of the villagers varied from idle curiosity to anticipation. I frowned as I looked around. What was it they were expecting to see?
Hove picked up the hoe handle, using it to point to us. "You see the trash you have brought to our village?" he demanded. "You think you have the right to be village chief when your family consorts with demons?"
Westerly's eyes narrowed. "Watch your mouth, Master Hove. My family has never done anything so shameful."
Hove laughed uproariously, but he looked anything but amused. "Then what do you call that demon child right there?"
My grandfather's eyes turned to me, weighing down my heart with cold fear. I knew instinctively that the hostility of the entire village paled in the face of his hatred for me. The malice I sensed in him was a completely different breed from that of the other villagers. They targeted us because we were different. But this man…
This man looked at me as if I was the personification of everything he hated.
He was silent for a moment, but it seemed to stretch into hours. The longer his eyes were fixed on me, the heavier his judgment felt.
"I have heard of these…creatures. But I have never associated with them." He spoke as if it were the absolute truth, and couldn't be refuted.
Well, his words were half true. I had never met him before that day.
Hove's face turned bright red. "You've never…" he sputtered. "What a blatant lie!"
He turned to speak to the crowd. "Do you hear these lies? Everyone knows that whore is Westerly's daughter! Everyone knows that demon child is her spawn! And yet, he has the gall to pretend that he has the virtue and wisdom to be the leader of our village."
"Oh, and Master Glen is any better?" someone shouted from the back of the crowd.
Hove whipped around. "Who said that?" he demanded.
Westerly gave an exaggerated sigh. "It doesn't matter. None of this is relevant, Master Hove, so I'd appreciate it if you would stop causing trouble for the rest of the village."
"She's your daughter," Hove screamed.
My grandfather's gaze turned to us once more. I felt the clawing urge to hide from his stare.
"I have never seen this woman before," he said flatly. "What about you, Roamander?"
The man next to Westerly shook his head. "No, Father."
"Leonidas?"
The younger man looked as if he was going to be sick, but he shook his head. "No, Father."
My mother pressed her hands against her abdomen, taking another step back.
Westerly gave Hove a smug smile. "There you have it."
The three men turned their horses and rode back the way they came. The crowd slowly dispersed, leaving us standing on the cobblestone road alone.
"Mother?" I asked in a trembling voice.
She shook her head, hurriedly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "Don't worry, my darling. It's over now."
The old cobbler walked over to us, placing a gentle hand on Mother's arm. "Come along, Eva. Let's go to my shop and take care of business."
Mother squared her shoulders and nodded. "Thank you, Master Heele."
The cobbler's workshop wasn't far. It took them less than a minute to retreat into the safety of its wooden walls. Master Heele gave both of us a cup of water and motioned for us to sit down.
He immediately began measuring my feet, then searched for some premade shoes in my size. Once he found what he was looking for, he slipped them on to see if they needed to be adjusted.
As he worked, he spoke to my mother in a calming voice. "What have you brought for me this time, Eva?"
She untied the bundle from her back with shaking hands. Her words were strained as she spoke, but she tried to smile. "I have lots of linen that I made. This batch turned out well."
Master Heele's eyes flicked up from his tools. "Ah, yes. I can see from here that it's excellent quality. What would you like in exchange?"
"We'll need some wool for winter clothes," she answered.
"Of course, of course. What else?"
Mother set aside a pile of animal skins that she had kept and cured. That was the payment for my new shoes. Then she pulled out a pouch from the center of the bundle. "I gathered some wellawort," she said proudly. "I found a large patch of bushes."
Master Heele stopped what he was doing to inspect the contents of the pouch. The green leaves were edged with red and smelled strongly of honey. "Well," he said with a smile, "this will make the physician very happy! I think you can get all of your winter supplies with this."
The cobbler finished adjusting my new shoes, making a silly flourish with his hands. "There you are, Lady Tiff. Properly shod at last."
I giggled. "Thank you, Master Heele."
He got to his feet with a small groan, massaging his lower back. "You two wait here while I go make the trades. Tsuki!"
A boy about my age—maybe a little older—appeared at the workshop door. He had black hair and light gray eyes, but it was difficult to see his other features. He wore a wooden mask on the lower half of his face. "Yes, Master Heele?"
The cobbler smiled as he gestured to the boy. "This is my new apprentice, Tsuki. His family just moved to the village from Navon. Refugees."
Despite my mother's extensive efforts, my education was rather lacking. I recognized the name of the nation, but I couldn't remember where it was located.
"Tsuki," Master Heele said, "Stay here with Mistress Eva and Miss Tiff until I get back. Don't let anyone come in the shop."
"Yes, Master Heele."
The cobbler gathered up the linen and the herb pouch, nodding to each of us as he went on his way. He used the little handcart that sat next to his door, placing the goods inside. He lifted the handles to pull it away, the sound of the wooden wheels on the cobblestone ringing in the air.
Tsuki positioned himself in the doorway to guard it with nothing but his slender frame. I grinned at the idea, but Mother seemed to be more relaxed with him there. While we waited, she pulled out the food from the pouch at her hip. She gave me my portion, and even offered some to the apprentice cobbler. He shook his head without saying anything.
It was just starting to seem that our worries for the day were over when Tsuki's voice suddenly sounded.
"Master Heele isn't here. You can't-"
The boy was unceremoniously shoved to the side.
Mother jumped to her feet, staring at the man who entered the workshop. It was the older son of Master Westerly.
"Roam," my mother exclaimed.
He towered over her petite figure, but I marveled at how much they looked alike. Mother never spoke of her family, so I didn't know much about her brothers and sisters. Only that they existed.
"How dare you," he hissed.
Mother withered before his rage. "Roam, I…"
"How dare you come to the village at a time like this," he continued relentlessly. "You are fortunate that my father didn't come here himself to punish you!"
"I didn't know," she stammered. "I didn't know that Fa—I mean, Master Westerly—was trying to become village chief. I didn't know that Chief Shepherd had retired!"
He pulled back his hand and slapped her with his full strength. She went sprawling to the ground but didn't make any attempt to move from where she fell.
I cried out, rushing to her side. I lifted her head, brushing the hair from her face. "Mother!"
She grasped my hand. It was meant to comfort me but also served as a reminder to stay still. Mother always warned me to stay still when people from the village were angry.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to her brother. "I'm sorry, Roam."
"Stop using my name!" He yelled. "You don't have the right to use my name!"
She hurriedly nodded. "Yes, Young Master Westerly. I apologize."
He pointed a finger at us. "You go back to the hills and stay there."
Roamander pivoted and stalked out of the workshop. The gloom he left behind him was as thick as winter mist.
Tsuki approached us tentatively, offering his hands to help us stand. His eyes were lowered with shame as if it was his fault that we had been attacked.
I could feel hot tears running down my face as I stared at the empty doorway. Oh, how I hated that man. I hated all of them! I hated the villagers, with their cowardice and ignorance. I hated my mother's family, for abandoning her when she needed them most. I hated my father, for giving me life and then leaving without a backward glance.
Most of all, I hated…myself. Why did I have to exist?
Mother's life would have been perfect without me in it.
I tried to hold back my sobs, but I couldn't. My entire body shook as I hid my face in my hands.
My mother gathered me into her arms as if I was a small child again. She stroked my hair, gently hushing me. "Don't cry, darling. I'm here. I'm here. We'll be just fine. We'll go home, and they won't hurt us anymore."
Her words made me cry even harder.
"Why do we have to be home to be safe?" I demanded. "We didn't do anything to them!"
"I know," she soothed. "I wish we lived in a different world, but we don't."
I lifted my head, staring into her tear-filled eyes. "Can't we just leave?" I begged, not for the first time. "Why do we have to stay near this village? We could go anywhere!"
Mother bit her lip. She never answered this question, but somehow I knew the answer. She still believed that my father would come back someday.
But he wouldn't.
Just as one could never see the same rainstorm a second time, my father would never return to this place. My tiernan intuition knew this without any doubt.
However, I couldn't bring myself to say so to my mother. I never spoke of what I knew. And she never spoke of it, even though she probably knew, too.
In the distance, I could hear the sound of wooden wheels on the cobblestone. Master Heele was returning. Tsuki ran out to meet him, presumably to tell him what had happened.
The aged cobbler hurried indoors, his eyes tight with emotion. "Eva, are you hurt? I'm so sorry I left you alone!"
Mother shook her head. "Don't worry, Master Heele. I don't think you could have done anything, even if you had been here."
He wrung his hands, looking around the shop for some sort of solution. Mother got to her feet, pulling me with her. She gave Master Heele's arm a small squeeze, then put her arm around Tsuki's shoulders. "It's not your fault," she told him firmly. "There was nothing that you could do."
The boy's fortitude crumbled, and he began to cry.
She hugged him close, just as she did for me when I was sad. "I'm glad you were with us," she said to him. "You made me feel brave. It's scarier to face something like that alone."
Master Heele sighed. His expression was heavy with resignation. He held out a small coin purse. "Here's the remaining profit from your wellawort. I suspect the physician was being stingy in what he paid, but it was enough."
Mother hid her hands behind her back. "You keep it Master Heele. As payment for your services."
He scoffed. "Nonsense. I won't keep money that doesn't belong to me."
"Where would I use it?" she asked him pointedly. "No one will sell anything directly to me."
The cobbler seemed at a loss for words. Finally, he shrugged and put the purse on his workbench. "I will credit it to you the next time you need shoes."
Mother didn't argue, but I knew that she would choose to forget the credit.
We all walked outside, where the handcart was waiting. It was loaded up with bundles of wool, candles, small barrels of preserves, packages of sugar and salt, and a container of flour. Anything else we needed to survive the winter, we could find or make ourselves.
"I'll bring the cart back tonight, after dark," Mother promised.
Master Heele shook his head. "Don't come to the village in the dark. It's not safe. I'll send Tsuki for it tomorrow."
Mother agreed, and I felt a surge of relief. I hated being left alone, especially when I knew my mother might meet danger along the way.
She lifted the handles of the cart to pull, and I pushed from behind. "Thank you," I called over my shoulder.
Master Heele waved his hand at us, and Tsuki stared at our retreating backs with his big gray eyes.