Authors: Elissa Sussman
Stray
For my family,
both given and found
T
here once were four sisters
Who were exceptionally ordinary,
But desired more than a maiden should desire
Ravaged by their shameful wants
Their loving hearts never bloomed
Instead four wicked brambles
Grew in their place
Each tainted
With poisonous magic
âThe Four Sisters 2:16
Contents
Tahlia's Cinnamon Bookbinder Bread
A
islynn's hands were bleeding. Her dress was stained with dirt and muck, her hair unraveling with each heaving breath. The scent of dampness, of mud and sweat, filled her nose. She was alone in the cold, dark garden, with a ruined dress and bloodied palms.
Through the nighttime came the muffled sounds of the spring ball, of laughter and dancing and people falling in love. Aislynn felt so very far away and wished that this was just another nightmare. That this was something she could be awakened from.
All of it was her fault. She should have tried harder, should have controlled the curse, should have remained on the Path. But there was no use wishing to change what could not be changed.
Soon they would come looking for her. With a trembling hand, Aislynn brushed the dust from her gown, careful not to bloody the material, and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Glancing at the destroyed rosebushes strewn across the dirt, Aislynn went though the gate, up the stairs, and back to the ball.
That morning she had woken tangled in sheets and nightmares. The linens were easily discarded, but the dreams lingered like smoke. In them she was always alone. Alone in an unknown forest, with sharp branches and a round, waxen moon above her.
But last night had been different.
Last night there had been footsteps. They had echoed in the dark, and Aislynn had searched the shadows, turning round and round until a pair of yellow eyes appeared in front of her, as if they had been there all along. Above her, the clouds had shifted, and the moonlight revealed the creature. A long snout and wet, wide mouth. A wolf.
No matter how many times Aislynn prayed for a chaste heart, no matter how often she vowed to keep her desires pure, every evening her wild wishes followed her to bed, sprawling across her pillow and tangling in her hair. Jealous, prideful wishes. And as she slept, they wrapped themselves around her and twisted into nightmares.
Aislynn knew she was to blame. No good girl had such dreams, of darkness and moonlight and now of wolves. Of animals so fierce that they lived off brambles sharp enough to cut their pink tongues. The dream was a warning, a reminder that a maiden's heart was capable of growing both roses and thorns. That if she was not careful, if she was not diligent, her step along the Path would falter.
Aislynn stood and faced the wall. Crossing her wrists over her chest, she could feel the warmth of her heavy gold locket against her palm. She dropped to her knees and, in a sleep-sore murmur, recited the words inscribed on the pendant.
“I will accept the Path I am taking. I will not stray. I will not yearn for what I cannot have. I will heed the words of my advisers and guard my loving heart against cursed magic. Ever after.”
As Aislynn's heartbeat settled back into a slow, steady rhythm, she heard the soft patter of footsteps and the rustle of uniforms in the hallway. Her bedroom door opened, letting in Tahlia, tea, and the beginning of the day.
Aislynn would not mention last night's dream. She forced a smile and sat back on her bed, smoothing her nightgown tightly around her stockinged feet and legs. Just another secret to keep.
“Good morning,” said Tahlia as she set the tray down on the vanity and pulled back the curtains, inviting bright spring sunlight into the bedroom. From behind, the fairy godmother barely looked like a person, more like a soft triangle in her wimple and loose robes. As was traditional, her uniform hid all but her hands and face. She returned Aislynn's smile, only hers was easy and sweet, the corners of her green eyes crinkling.
“What would my lady like to wear today?” Tahlia asked, dropping sugar cubes into the tea with two soft
plinks
before opening the massive wardrobe to reveal the dozens of blue dresses inside. Without waiting for a response, the fairy godmother retrieved two gowns. The one she passed to Aislynn was a cotton periwinkle dress that had been worn dozens of times. Pretty and simple.
The other dress Tahlia hung carefully next to the mirror. It was exquisite. Made of a rich satin, the vibrant sapphire color was slightly muted by a layer of organza across the massive skirt. Blue lace and delicate beading decorated the long sleeves and high collar that were customary for a young lady from the Northern Kingdom.
But it wasn't the sleeves or the neckline that had Aislynn's attention. It was the rose. Now that she was sixteen, it would be embroidered on each of her gowns: a rose in perfect bloom over her heart.
Disappointed that she had to wait until the evening to wear the beautiful gown, Aislynn stepped into the cotton day dress. Tahlia tended to the endless line of buttons down its back, and Aislynn did her best not to flinch each time her fairy godmother's fingers brushed against bare skin. No matter the warmth of the room, or the heat of the season, Tahlia's hands, like all fairy godmothers', were frigid.
The morning bell rang just as the last button was fastened. Slipping into her shoes, Aislynn followed Tahlia out of the bedroom and down the stairs to breakfast.
Four years at Nerine Academy, but to Aislynn it had never felt anything like a home. Until a girl was settled into her married life, everything else was only temporary. It was best not to get attached, and the academy made it easy. Everything was stone, hard and bleak. Though Northerners were fond of embellishments, the only decorations the headmistress tolerated were the enormous tapestries. The one outside the dining hall portrayed a young woman with her head arched back, her mouth open in a silent scream. Between the hands crossed over her heart was a tangle of briars tearing through her chest, bloodying her fingers. She had black hair like Aislynn's.