The King's Cursed Bride

Going into the Unknown: Part 1

            

Exhaustion flooded every crevice in her bones. She feared if they rode for much longer, she'd simply drop off the horse.

"Nearly there, Carissa."

Elon's voice penetrated her mental fog. She straightened and glanced at their surroundings. The landscape was vaguely familiar. "Are we near Hasita?"

"Yes."

Her heart lurched. "Has the darkness overtaken it?"

"It will within another day or so."

Carissa tightened her grip on the saddle horn. She would do everything in her power to keep the darkness as far from her family as possible.

As they neared the village, they began seeing people on the road, heading towards the way she and Elon had just come from—women and children in hay-filled wagons, sacks of food haphazardly piled around them, farmers with lined faces leading the horses. She didn't fault them. If Elon weren't with her, she would run too.

Elon steered the horse around a corner, and she recognized it as the road to Hasita.

She turned to face him. "Are we stopping here?"

Elon slowly reigned the horse to a halt. "Should we? Do you want to see anyone before we cross the border?"

Carissa nodded. "But is there time?"

"There is."

"Then let's go."

Elon nudged the horse forward, weaving them around refugees. A few people eyed them curiously as they swam against the flow of the crowd, while others lifted a hand in recognition and greeting. But there were no happy reunions. The darkness was too close for that.

Carissa tilted her head back, her gaze running up the curtain of black.

The darkness seemed to suck in all light and heat, leaving the air chilly and the light dim, even though the sun was just grazing the horizon. In the low light, colors were muted and dull. Not a single bird sang in the trees.

She huddled a bit closer to Elon, and his arm tightened on her waist.

The village appeared, buildings taking over trees. The horse's hooves clip clopped against the cobblestone square. There were fewer refugees here. The rest of the townspeople peered at them through cracks in shuttered windows. One window was left unshuttered, and four pale, little faces peered at them through it, the wavering glass blurring their features.

Carissa swallowed thickly, the sound loud in the silence.

Elon turned off the main road, into the forest. With the trees crowding around them, there was even less light. Leaves crunched as the horse plodded down the path. Carissa set her head again Elon's chest, and the sound of his breath filled her ears. It was comforting to hear something aside from solitary footsteps of the horse.

Then they came to a clearing, and in the middle sat her little wood and stucco house. The new copper hinge winked at her from afar, the quilted curtains remained closed and still, and the thatched roof was indented on the left, sloping inwards.

If her father would home, he would never allow the roof to be in such disrepair. Did that mean her parents had left? Or that something had happened to them?

Before she could ask Elon, he stopped and dismounted before helping her down.

Though her legs felt thick and clumsy from a day of riding, she rushed to the door and pounded on it, hot pain prickling her skin as her hand scraped against splinters. "Mother? Father?" She stopped to listen for movement.

Silence.

Before she could begin pounding on the door again, Elon joined her. "They're in the cellar. They can't hear you."

Carissa lowered her fisted hand. "Then how do we enter?"

Elon pointed upwards. "Through the roof. I'll climb inside and allow you in from the other side. I would kick down the door, thereby impressing you with my great strength, but I doubt your parents would appreciate the gesture." He winked and grabbed hold of the edges of a nearby windowsill. He used its frame for handholds and footholds before climbing onto the thatched roof. Then he disappeared.

Carissa folded her arms as a light breeze stirred the grass. The trees shushed each other softly. Where was he? Surely he'd climbed inside by now. Carissa rapped on the door.

Elon answered from the other side, "Who is it?"

"Elon."

"Actually, I believe I'm Elon."

"It's your wife, Carissa."

"My what?"

Carissa shook her head, a slight smile sneaking across her lips. "Your wife. You have one of those, remember?" She knocked on the door again, deciding she'd do so until he opened it. "Now you'd best let me in before I become upset. You know what they say: happy wife, happy—"

The door swung open just as she was preparing to knock again, and she fell forward—right into Elon's arms. Of course he'd been there waiting there to catch her. What an Elon thing to do.

Elon hugged her a bit more tightly and rubbed his nose against hers. "Happy wife, happy husband."

She laughed. "Actually, it's happy wife, happy life. That rhymes, so it's catchier."

He shrugged before releasing her. "I still like mine better."

Carissa glanced around the house, and a chill ghosted over her skin.

Withered vegetable shavings were strewn across the table and floor. Dust collected in corners. A candle had burnt itself so low that all that was left was a dried puddle of wax. She walked to her parents' room and opened the door. The bed was unmade. A dress has been tossed over the back of a chair, wrinkles creasing the fabric. Her mother would have never tolerated such disarray.

Carissa knelt and folded the rug back to reveal a trap door. She slipped her fingers between the door and the floorboards and pried the door up. The dim light from her parent's window weakly nudged aside the darkness below, only enough for her to see the packed dirt floor of the cellar.

"Mother? Father?"

***

Author's Note: No sneak peek this time :P I have an ECON exam I'm working on; sorry about that!