Ravenous (2 page)

I SPEND HALF THE NIGHT WANDERING THE DARK CITY STREETS AND
reliving my nightmares.

Once I had a family, a loving mother and father, and a younger brother. Mama and Papa were long gone before I was sent to Belladoma. Hans was all I had left.

Then the wizard's disease curse infected me and I was tossed into quarantine with the rest of Bryre's sick girls. That's when Kymera, the monster girl created by the wizard, stole me and unwittingly sent me on my journey to Belladoma. If only she'd known what really waited for us in that city.

Belladoma
.

The memories creep in around the edges of my vision and I shudder. Like water, they flow through every barrier
I put in their way. My parents raised me to believe in the kindness of strangers. But the people of Belladoma merely watched while their wicked king sent us over the cliff, slowly killing every ounce of that belief.

Finally, I reach our cottage on the outskirts of Bryre. It isn't a large house, but it's too big for just my brother and me, and it's fallen into more disrepair than I can fix easily. The roof needs thatching, and the front window frame is cracked from a recent storm. But the house is painted a pretty blue and the walkway is neat and free from the weeds that would threaten it. I tiptoe into the cottage as the dawn crests the trees with hues of pink and gold. I checked that Hans was asleep before I left to see Ren and the king. The last thing I want to do now is wake him.

Hans suffered enough while I was captive. Reduced to begging, even stealing on occasion, his only other source of food was the small garden I had planted behind our house. When I finally returned, he was so thin, I feared he'd never recover. I wasted no time before volunteering to help out the local baker and butcher, if only to justify the scraps I took home. I promised never to leave him again—unlike our parents.

Until the day they left, we were happy together.

Happiness is not something I'll ever trust easily again.

I hang my cloak on the rack by the door and rub my sleepy eyes. The anger I felt at Ren's house has dulled to embers, leaving me exhausted and hollow. I should sleep for a few hours before another day of trying to coax the old Hans out of his new shell. Perhaps today I'll have better luck.

About a year ago, our parents vanished. No note, not a whisper of where they might have gone. Did they abandon us? Or did something terrible befall them? Are they out there somewhere, alive and waiting for us to join them, or are they already in their graves? If not for my brother, I would have chased after them, hunted down some small trace. But Hans needed me here.

I miss the Hans who was full of life and wonder, constantly curious. It's been my personal mission to bring that boy back. He grew sullen and more frightened after they left. His laughing eyes dulled to a somber gray. Lately, he's become more stubborn than ever—and taller, too. Sometimes, when he gives me a rare smile, hope trills over me, but his smiles are few and far between and always fleeting.

I shuffle across the worn boards of our kitchen floor toward the back of the little house where our bedroom lies. We still share a room as we did when we were young, even though our parents' room lies empty. Neither of us has opened the door since that day. It would be like reopening a raw wound.

But after my night of wandering, I've made up my mind. Hans and I will leave Bryre. There's no reason to stay. Mama and Papa are not coming back. And I cannot stand by and watch while my friends help the people who held me captive and forced me to watch other girls die.

We're better off in the woods.

When I wake, we'll take our belongings and the little money we have to buy a few hens and a goat. Build a little
cottage deep in the woods. No one will trouble us there. We won't have to pretend our parents are still around. It's been over three months since the battle with the wizard; the days tick by and it makes me restless.

Careful not to wake my brother, I pry our door open. Dawn trickles in through the windows, casting light on a sight that stops me in my tracks.

Hans's bed is empty.

Panic rises in a thick, suffocating stream up my chest. The doorknob rattles under my hands.

“Hans?” I whisper, hoping and praying for an answer. None comes. “Hans!” I yell, and fling myself into our room. His bed is tousled and messy. Could something have woken him? Why would he have wandered off in the middle of the night?

I can't help thinking of our parents' disappearance. Hans wouldn't leave me too. We need each other. I toss off the bedclothes to ensure he isn't asleep somewhere deep under the covers. No luck.

Under the bed—the same. I rush to the closet and throw the door wide. Again nothing. His clothes are all there, but no Hans hiding inside.

He can't be gone. He
can't.

Fear crawls under my skin, worming its way over my body. I run through the house, wishing to find something that will let me escape this nightmare. But our cottage is small. There are not many places to hide. I check every single spot we used to play hide-and-seek as small children. The pantry in the kitchen is empty of all but some potatoes and
carrots. The cupboards have a few handfuls of rice and dried beans that I would have cooked for our supper. The nook under the front stair. The hollow in the oak tree out front.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

At last, only one place is left to check: our parents' room.

I stand outside the door, focusing on breathing. This is too eerily like that terrible day a year ago, when Hans and I returned home from school to the same: nothing.

Maybe Hans got the ridiculous notion into his head that he needs his own room. Maybe I'll find him sleeping soundly on their bed, cranky because I woke him.

Or worse, he won't be there at all.

I close my eyes, heart trembling, and reach for the doorknob. It turns slowly, and the hinges creak and groan as the door swings inward. I don't want to look for fear of what I might see. When did I become so afraid?

Everyone I grow close to vanishes. I refuse to lose Hans. He's all I have left.

I force my eyes open.

Hans is not here. Everything is just as my parents left it. Clothes neatly stacked in the closet. Bed perfectly made. The only addition is a thin sheen of dust coating everything. No, Hans has definitely not been in here. Not since they vanished.

I flee the room, slamming the door behind me and sinking down to the floor. Water rushes in my ears, threatening to pull me under again.

Gone. Just like Mama and Papa. Visions of my family waltz before my eyes. Mama cooking in the kitchen, Hans
playing with blocks on the floor or sneaking into their room and jumping on the bed. Papa scolding Hans for rumpling the bed stuffing.

And me, wide-eyed and hopeful that life would bring adventure and a happily ever after. Papa taught me how to use a hammer and a sword, and Mama taught me how to grow my own food and shoot an arrow. Everything I'd need to be resourceful. I took to all of it, but Hans was never quite as good. Mama and Papa always told me that when they were gone, I'd have to look out for him.

Above all, I am a sister, and a fierce one at that.

I will find my brother.

I push myself up off the floor and return to the room I share with Hans. There must be some hint, some clue as to what happened. Hans wouldn't just leave. I sit on the edge of his bed, smoothing over the blankets. No note lies hidden between the sheets or on his pillow. Not even on the floor.

Wait.

A yellow-and-brown feather lies on the floor, half hidden by the bed. It looks like it came from a chicken, except it is much larger than any chicken feather I've ever seen.

Puzzled, I walk over to the window. Caught on the outside of the sill is another feather, as though the window closed on a bird's tail. Several more dot the small yard beyond. A block of ice hardens in my gut. It can't be a coincidence that the feathers have appeared just as Hans has vanished.

They make a trail right up to the wall separating Bryre from the forest. Unlike Ren's cozy home, our cottage is on the outskirts. That was useful. It kept us from being noticed
when our parents disappeared.

But now I'm certain. Something bad is in the forest. It has my brother, and I won't rest until I have him back.

King Oliver holds court each morning, allowing Bryre's citizens to air grievances, settle disputes, or plead for assistance when necessary. Today, I am first in line, trying not to fidget with the lace on my best dress.

My brother is missing. King Oliver must help me find him. With the help of the king's guard, we could comb the forest and get Hans back by nightfall.

There is only one small problem.

I've never told the king or Ren that I have a brother. Or that our parents are missing. We were terrified of being thrown into the orphanage and separated when that happened, so we scraped and stole our way together instead. If I tell them I have a brother, they'll insist on involving my parents. If they find that my parents are gone, it won't be long before they realize that I'm a thief. People lose fingers for that. And get locked in the dungeon as punishment.

At the very least, the king would have put us in the orphanage, and that was enough to give me nightmares. My brother and I had only each other—the thought of possibly being separated, even by well-meaning adults, was unbearable. But now . . . now I will have to come clean. Nothing less will convince them.

“Greta?” Ren's voice jerks me to attention. “What are you doing here?”

I attempt a smile. It would be good to have him on my
side. “I have urgent business for the king.”

“You aren't going to try to convince him not to help Belladoma, are you?”

“No, this has nothing to do with that.” I was upset with Ren last night, but my anger has thawed amid the burning fear I feel for Hans. I have no time to worry about Belladoma now.

“I'm glad to hear it.” Ren glances down at his shoes, and I realize the tips of his ears are turning red. “I spent half the morning trying to talk King Oliver out of it, but he'll have none of it. He won't change his mind. I'm sorry.”

He looks at me hopefully. Perhaps Ren is on my side after all.

But before I can respond, the doors to the throne room swing open and we are ushered in front of the king.

“Greta,” he says, surprised. “Please stand.” I rise to my feet, and Ren takes his place behind the king. Nervousness suddenly swims through my belly. Ren's father, Andrew, the king's steward, is also nearby, as is Delia, on a low bench not far from her father. She looks like she wants to speak, but she wouldn't dare interrupt her father's court without being asked. I wasn't expecting an audience of this size.

“What brings you here this morning?” King Oliver asks.

I swallow the knot in my throat. “I'm here to beg your help in finding a lost boy. My brother. I am sorry I never told you about him before, but we are orphans. We were scared we'd be sent to the orphanage and separated. But now he's disappeared under odd circumstances. Please send
men to search the woods for him. We must find him and bring him home.” The backs of my eyes begin to sting.

The king sits up straighter on his throne, and Delia's eyes shine with curiosity.

“I am indeed surprised by this, Greta, especially to hear that your parents are gone. I am very sorry for your loss. But are you sure your brother hasn't just run away? What were these odd circumstances?”

I pull out the huge feather I hid in my skirts. “This, sire. A trail of them leads away from our home and into the forest. Something took him, I'm certain of it.”

The king takes the feather and turns it over in his hands.

“Please, send as many men as possible. Who knows what might have him? We might need a lot if the size of that feather is any indication.”

The silence that greets me is almost as deafening as the water rushing through the spaces in my brain. I hold my breath.

The king has to help. These are my friends. I've told them the truth.

“This is indeed an unusual feather.” But then something like understanding transforms King Oliver's face. “Greta, I think I know what this is really about.”

“This is about my missing brother.” My heart hangs in my throat.

“You were upset last night that we are sending our army to aid Belladoma.”

“Of course I—”

“You don't really have a brother, do you?” His expression
is sad, but he has made a decision.

My mouth drops open, fumbling over every possible response.

“Greta.” The tone of that one word seals my fate. “You do not want us to help Belladoma. I understand why. Horrible things happened to you there. But we will help them nonetheless. We cannot be delayed by ploys to send our soldiers on wild-goose chases in the woods.” He gestures to the feather. “Even if there were a lost boy, the choice would be between helping one person and an entire city. I must send our men where they can do the most good, to the place that needs our help more. I wish I could heal the invisible wounds Belladoma inflicted, but I can't let a whole city perish. I am sorry, my dear, but that is my final answer.”