Falling for Forever (11 page)

A few years with Franklin changed all that. Sage eventually turned angry and resentful. In the beginning, when Franklin first allowed him to stay at the manor, Bryn thought he had been a playmate for her. She had found him in the woods outside of Franklin's home. There used to be woods there, before Franklin cut down the trees to make fires in the winter. Sage told her that he could hear their screams. He had cried for hours that day, huddled into a ball in the corner. He had never forgiven Franklin for killing the trees. They were his friends after all. Franklin didn't care much though. Sage was only a child back then. Furthermore, he was a child afraid of violence that would have never gotten revenge, even if the idea had come to him often during those years. He was innocent, even more so than she. Franklin only wanted him for his connection to the woods and all living creatures, she thought bitterly. Sage's first hunt came only months after his arrival. Bryn would never forget the look of sheer terror that played in his eyes that day. He had never lost that first shock, even as the number of hunts grew into the hundreds. Sage never killed any of the animals, of course, but Franklin used his abilities to find them. He had never forgiven himself for any of it, and he died with that anger inside of himself, festering there like an old wound.

Bryn sighed sadly and forced herself to think of something else, but Sage's gentle face continued to dance through her mind, causing a soft smile to go across her lips. She put him out of her brain and opened her eyes to the early afternoon sun. The river was cool against her body, and it felt like a wonderful release from the heat of the day. She slipped up to her ears in the cool water and looked around the riverbank, her eyes slowly adjusting to the small amount of light that trickled down from the canopy. A yellow butterfly landed on a flower near her, and she smiled at it. There was so much life in the forest, much more than she had even seen before.

Even in Franklin's gardens, she had rarely come across anything besides insects. Birds were scarce, and she had rarely ever seen a butterfly. The life she had known for almost her entire existence was turning into just another memory. Even the horrors she had endured for so long seemed far away in such a tranquil place. Somehow being with Mariah had made her feel safe, as if nothing in the world could hurt her as long as she stayed near Mariah. The only thing that could have made her new reality even more perfect would have been the company of her friends. She longed to be with them again, if only for an instant. Not knowing what happened to any of them had plagued her mind for years. Bryn used to ask Franklin what he did with them all, but her questions were only answered with a mumbled response, if even that. Most of the time, he had ignored her. It was when he didn't that tormented her. But thoughts like those were out of place on such a perfect day.

The leaves off to her left rustled. A small glimmer of hope crept into her mind at the possibility that the rustle was caused by Mariah, but it was a dim glimmer. She realized that Mariah had things to do and was most likely busy. But still, she had hope.

The rustling ceased without producing anything more than a young, very fat squirrel. She sighed and closed her eyes. The sunlight felt blissfully sweet on her cheeks and shoulders. Bryn rose to her feet, reluctant to find herself wanting something to do. She looked around at the forest and sighed. With Franklin, she had been given tasks that took up much of her day. She didn't know how to spend her days now that she was with Mariah.

With a bored need to spend time with people, she decided to take a walk into town. It would take up the better part of the day, especially if she walked slowly. She waded to the bank of the river and pulled the small white dress over her head. Mariah might wonder where she was; she would have to let her know where she was going. Her damp wings helped to keep her bare shoulders cool against the sweltering summer heat. In the cabin, her cloak hung on a hook, but she decided that the day was too hot for it. She would just have to risk people knowing what she was.

Luca would have gone with her as protection, but she wanted to go alone. Bryn remembered his nervousness around the humans at town. She didn't blame him for being apprehensive. The long grass of the fields brushed against her bare legs as she made her way to the cabin. She thought Mariah might be there, but she couldn't be certain. If she wasn't, though, Bryn decided that she would leave a note for Mariah to find whenever she returned.

The cabin was dark as she entered it. A quick search of the rooms told her that Mariah was not there. She shrugged and found a small writing box among her possessions in the bedroom. With a quill and a pot of black ink, she wrote Mariah a small letter on a small sheet of paper. Bryn left it on the dining table and smiled at her cloak. It could be useful in case there was anyone in town that she wanted to avoid. She pulled it over her shoulders and closed the door behind her.

Bryn skirted around the river, following closely against the wall. A few of the horses raised their heads as she passed by them, but most paid her no mind. She walked through the gates and walked on the beaten path toward the town. It was a long walk, but she sang to herself for some company and to make the walk go faster. The trail felt lonely without Mariah next to her. A soft breeze swept through the tall grass. It ruffled the soft fluffy feathers of her wings. She stretched them out, taking a long look at each of them.

A pair of birds flew through the grass, happily making a racket. Bryn was glad to have some company. She thought again about what Luca had said, about riding him. She hadn't ridden Yarrow in years, and she missed the exhilaration of it all. But she had promised him that she wouldn't. It was a long walk to town, and she did need a way to get around, she reasoned. And if she only rode the horse sometimes, it wasn't quite the same as breaking her promise. In fact, she wasn't even sure if her old friend was still alive. That decided it; she would look for a horse to buy in town. Her heart started to race as she thought of the thrill she used to get from riding. The town slowly came into view. As much as she enjoyed spending time with Mariah, she had to be with others. Bryn had grown up with lots of people around. Even at the carnival, she was surrounded by people. It was the closest she had ever felt to being human. With Mariah, she felt wonderful, of course, but it was also the most alone she had ever felt. All of the animals in her forest were nice company too, but she needed to be with her own kind, or as close to it as she thought she would probably ever get.

Bryn turned toward Angie's shop, but stopped herself. She had forgotten about Angie's trip. There was a glint of metal from a booth to her right. She walked toward it and smiled. The entire surface was covered with daggers, swords and various other weapons. Bryn fingered the blade of one of them, her eyes glowing with the beauty of it. It was simple in design. The hilt was covered in soft brown leather. The sheath, which the dagger rested on, was made out of the same leather.

"Are you looking for a gift for your husband, miss?" the bladesmith asked.

Bryn looked him over. He was a handsome man of around thirty-five with a mess of brown curly hair that touched the tops of his ears. "How much is it?" she asked.

"This one is far too feminine for your husband, miss. Perhaps one of my long swords would be better for him?" he suggested with a wave of his hand.

Bryn's eyes narrowed. "I would like this dagger for myself."

The bladesmith nodded. "Do you know how to use a weapon such as this? Someone could get very hurt if they didn't," he said as he eyed her over.

"I have had instruction," she said under her breath.

The man heard her, despite the volume of her voice. "Very well, miss. Would you like anything else perhaps? I have many fine things for sale today. My wife bakes wonderful bread. I have some here if you would like to try some." Bryn nodded. "Would you like some fresh milk to go with your bread?"

Her eyes lit up and her mouth began to water. "You have milk?" she asked.

The man nodded.

"Fresh milk?" she asked again, not believing her ears.

Again he nodded. "Would you like some?"

She smiled at him. "Yes, please. I would like some very much. What's your name?"

"Christopher," he replied as he pulled a small jar of milk out. "Will you be wanting anything else, miss?"

She shook her head and began pulling out a small bag of coins. The bag, of course, belonged to Mariah, but she doubted that she would mind if she used it once in a while. Besides, it's not like she had been able to find her to ask permission to take it in the first place.

"What's your name, miss?"

"Bryn," she replied softly as she brushed a blonde curl behind her ear.

His eyes went wide and his mouth fell open slightly. "Mariah's Bryn?"

She nodded. A light breeze fluttered the tarps that hung over the booth. It was then that she saw him. His coat was blacker than the blackest night. The anger in his eyes sent chills through her body.

"How much is he? The black horse?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Christopher looked her over and shook his head. "For your own sake, I cannot answer that. I am sorry, miss."

Bryn's face twisted into a scowl. "And why is that?"

The man looked sadly to the horse before turning his hazel eyes back on her. "I do not wish to incur Mariah's wrath should this horse kill you," he replied quietly. The fear was evident in his voice. But it wasn't fear for her safety; the man was genuinely afraid of Mariah. Bryn couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips. This man thought Mariah cared enough about her to go after a man for selling her a dangerous horse. She didn't know if Christopher was right about Mariah's level of feelings for her, but she hoped he was.

"No harm will come to me, and if any does, then you do not need to fear Mariah. What she does, she does for a reason," she replied calmly. Bryn really had no idea why she wanted the horse. She could barely ride a fully tamed one, let alone one that was so obviously wild. The look in his eyes had convinced her, though. Bryn needed to have this horse, if only for a moment. She reached a trembling hand to his dark nose. He jerked his head away from her touch, the rope around his neck going taught as he pulled as hard as he could on it. His nostrils flared violently as he glared down at her.

"I will buy him. Name your price," she said. Her eyes did not stray from the stallion's intense gaze.

"But miss…"

Bryn's eyes fixed into a glare as her gaze settled on the man. "Name your price," she repeated as calmly as she could manage.

"For just him?"

"For all of it."

Christopher sighed. "Two silver," he replied reluctantly. Bryn pulled the coins from her pouch and let them fall into the man's outstretched hand. "Thank you, miss." Bryn nodded and bundled her purchases together. "Would you like a sack?" Christopher offered.

She nodded again and took it without looking at him. Her eyes were still fixed on the stallion. The bread, milk, and her new dagger all fit in the sack. She slid it over her shoulder and took the stallion's rope from the man. His big black eyes glared down at her, but he did walk when she gave a slight tug.

"What's his name?" she asked as she continued to watch him.

Christopher shrugged. "He doesn't have one as far as I know. I bought him off a trapper a few weeks back. He was only too happy to get rid of a horse like this. You will be careful with him, won't you?"

Bryn nodded and led the horse through a side street out of town. He was already prancing and striking angrily at the ground as they walked. Some of the children wanted to pet him as she led him past, but their mothers thankfully pulled them all back. She didn't want anyone getting hurt by her new horse. If there were a way to leave town without going past the people, she would have taken it. The last of the small buildings were finally left behind, and Bryn led the stallion up a short hill. She sat down in the warm grass and tugged on the rope, pulling her stallion closer. "Would you like some bread?"

The horse continued to ignore her. Bryn tore off a chunk of the loaf and put it on the ground next to his hoof. "What's your name?"

After getting no answer, she sat the bread on a rock nearby and took off her white cloak. The horse looked at her, for the first time really, her skin glowing in the sunlight. Bryn knelt down next to him and continued eating her meal.

"Well, well, I've never been owned by a Strytas before,"
he spat once he had caught his breath. He began nibbling the bread that she had given him.

"You still aren't," she replied as she took a drink of the cow's milk. It was unfortunately warm in the afternoon sun, but it was still a treat to have milk again. Franklin only gave her milk after she had been especially good.

"What?"

Bryn looked up into his big black eyes. "I don't own you. If you want, you can come live with me. But I will not make you."

His long black mane fell into his eyes as he nodded.
"Will you hurt me, little Bryn?"

Her eyes met his. "Of course not." She reached a gentle hand out to touch his shoulder, but he instantly pulled away.

"Do you wish to ride me someday?"

Bryn shrugged. "If you don't want me to, I won't."

He nodded.
"Why did you buy me then if you do not wish to ride me?"

She played with a piece of grass in her fingers. "Being owned made you angry, didn't it?" The stallion nodded. "I was too scared to become angry when I was." Again, he nodded but said nothing. She looked up into his eyes and tried again to move toward him. The stallion glanced at her and put his ears flat back against his neck as a warning. He kept one keen eye on her and continued grazing. "May I touch you?" she asked softly. The muscles in his neck and shoulders rippled softly as he considered it.

"Bryn?"

"Yes?"

He turned to her, his eyes full of pain and anger. "
You may touch me. But when I say stop, you must stop. Will you do that for me?"