The Veiled One

Part One: Bells

Chapter One:

In which I start to make funeral arrangements

The crunch of leaves under my boots as I trudge out of the Forest of Endless Night seems as good a death knell as any. Tomorrow is the Feast of the Redeemer, and by the day's end I will be a married man. Beside me, Leo jostles my shoulder, his close-cropped black curly hair glistening with leftover sweat from our work. He doesn't know what I've got planned, and neither does Martina. But soon, the whole village will sing of me, Sylas the sacrifice. Sylas, the savior. Sylas, the widower of the Eternal Bride.

"Have you put up your ivy garlands yet?" Leo asks from beside me. His boots, like mine, rasp across the ground as we come from yet another hard day's labor in the forest. My hands, twisted with calluses and blisters no amount of healing salve can soothe, clutch at my shovel. My shoulders ache, and my back feels as if one more stretch will shear it in two.

"Not yet, no," I reply, distracted. I can see a light on the sill of my cottage far off in the distance, the one I share with my little brother Endor. Endor. He's only ten, and the mere idea of leaving him drives an iron spike of guilt deep into my gut. But if I want to ensure that I never see his face twisted into a grotesque mask of terror, then I must depart the village at dawn tomorrow.

Leo clucks his tongue. "If you don't decorate your house, the gods will be angry with you. Look what happened to Erato!"

"We all know the real reason Erato caught the pox was because she got fond of a certain soldier from the Infested Regions!"

Leo makes the Sign of the Blessed, kissing his fingertips before pressing them to his forehead in a gesture of nervous deference. I snort and lick my fingers, holding them up to the sky. The ultimate sign of defiance. It's the rudest gesture I knew, and the surest way to mark me as a nonbeliever.

Leo lets out a larger gasp, black eyes wide, and makes the Sign of the Blessed six times, one for each of the major gods.

"I don't understand how Endor can be such a devout," he mutters following behind me as I kick the dirt. "You barely believe."

"I don't believe at all, Leo. Endor believes solely because the faith is the only thing he has left of our mother. If you'd seen the things I've seen, Leo, been where I've been... Then you'd be a nonbeliever too."

Leo doesn't say anything, a wise choice. We come out of the forest fully and start on the mile-long path back to town. As we pass by the meadow where the Veiled One's castle sits, Leo makes the Sign of the Blessed once more. I, however, stop and gaze at it, the stones that practically sparkle with mica in the early evening sun, the towers that crest off into space, seemingly suspended in midair. I wonder which bedroom will be mine, and if I will go to her or if she will come to me.

"Are you all right?" Leo asks as we suddenly start walking again. I feel like my mind is back at that castle, and I shake my head.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I was just thinking of the old stories."

"Do you believe them?" he asks, kicking some gravel from the path. I look behind us at the retreating crenellations of the castle and shrug.

"I don't know. Maybe."

"I don't understand why you can't believe in the gods but you can believe in magic. There's no such thing."

"Isn't there?" I mutter.

"Whatever. My grandmother told me once that an exiled princess lives in that castle and that she's crazy. She kills all her husbands, and her parents send her more every year because everyone else thinks she's a witch."