A Girl Named Calamity (Alyria 1)

I decided right then, that I couldn’t afford not to trust my grandmother. If she was right, and I didn’t leave, Alyria’s people would be in danger. If she was wrong, then I was the only one in danger. She made me wear the cuffs my entire life. It was easy to latch onto the thought that she was losing her mind, but she had always believed this to be the truth. I didn’t see her making that kind of mistake.

The dull ache in my chest as I rode further away was not for missing Alger. But for my grandmother and Benji. The dog had followed me home from the city one day and chose to never leave. He was part of the family, and I hoped he and Grandmother would be safe, although I wasn’t so worried about Grandmother. She was the

strongest woman I had ever met, even as her body became weaker from age. If there was anything I had learned from her, it was that you made the most of what you were given.

I was given a horse, a forest trail, and a destination. Many didn’t have those things, and that was what pushed me further and further from our cottage in the woods.

I allowed my thoughts to go rampant during the beginning of my journey. Thoughts of my mother overwhelmed me. If it weren’t for her, this wouldn’t be happening, and yet I couldn’t help but feel like the shackles holding me back were finally removed. Guilt sank like lead in my stomach because of it.

I had been ready to settle and get married. Just so I could find out what makes a woman run from a man only to get caught.

Most women would have been happy to settle down and have a couple of children. The thought of that monotonous life only left a bitter taste in my mouth. And it was another reason my horse kept carrying me further from Alger.

My mind kept traveling back to my grandmother’s insistence that I had magic.

So much magic, Calamity.

How could I have had magic and never noticed it? Grandmother had said the breeze talked to her, and to ask it to show me I had magic. When I became frustrated with my melancholy thoughts of my mother, I tried to listen to the land. I asked it to show me in my head but heard nothing. So, then I asked it out loud and felt ridiculous. But the only sounds I heard were the whistle through the trees and the rustle of leaves, which only had worry gnawing at me imagining the creatures crawling around the forest floor. I shook my head at my wild imagination. Wildlife was abundant in Alyria, of course there were animals out here.

I put all my fear and doubt about my journey into a little box and locked it up. I focused on the chirping of the crickets, the soft water noises of a nearby stream and the feel of the breeze on my skin.

A small hum thrummed through my body like a plucked fiddle, and I shook off the strange sensation.

Apprehension eased its way into my chest, and it felt as if I were dabbling in the dark arts, but I tried again. The hum was there, sending a shudder through my body and tickling my skin. I felt it coming from the ground, the trees, the air, as if everything was living beings. The feeling lifted my spirits. It was like finding out a secret I had always wanted to know.

Maybe what Grandmother had said was true, because I felt the humming of the land in my veins, as if it were a piece of me. All it took was asking the land to show me my magic? What a strange world I lived in.

My brow wrinkled in confusion when the steady hum was interrupted by a more erratic one. My heart jumped as a bunny hopped out of the bushes and onto the path before me, the moonlight just bright enough to make it out. My horse only sidestepped the rabbit as if to rub it in that I might have overreacted. The bunny took off, and the strange erratic hum disappeared. I soon realized that the more irregular hum was the bunny.

I closed my eyes and sensed many more soft, inconsistent hums, but when a hard hum rolled through me as though I were plucked instead of a fiddle, I froze. The hum didn’t have a harmless vibe to it; it was so rough it chattered my teeth and sent an icy chill down my spine.

My heart beat fast as every horror story I had ever been told came to mind. Stories Grandmother should have never told me . . .

I was imagining something dragging me off into the woods when the sound of heavy hooves hitting the ground pulled me out of my thoughts.

A horse and rider appeared on the trail before me. I was on a well-ridden trail, so it wasn’t odd seeing another rider.

No, the strange thing was seeing him slow down when he spotted me. A dark hood covered his eyes, and the moonlight only accentuated the black void of his face. A chill had a cold sweat covering my skin as we both stared at each other, unmoving.

His dark cloak blew in the breeze around him, and I swore I could see the heavy breaths of his horse. Not an ordinary thing in the warm Alger air.

I realized that he might have seen me in the same obscure way; I’d stopped my horse just as he had. Maybe this was one big misunderstanding. Or maybe I’d just tell myself that.

I inched my horse forward. I couldn’t be at a standstill any longer, or my heart would beat out of my chest.

A stronger breeze than normal blew my hood around my face and like a soft caress, it ran down my cheek. A voice vibrated inside my mind. “Run . . .”

Even without a shudder from the whisper running through my body, I would have known this was not right, because as I urged my horse forward in bravery, my gut twisted as its only way of warning me.

With an alarm ringing in my mind and no warning, I raced directly to the right and off the path. My hood flew off with the momentum. We swerved around the tight-knit trees. They were so close I could reach out and touch one on both sides. I heard the sounds of hooves crunching leaves and sticks, alerting me the rider was following.

I tightened my knees around my horse as we hopped over a stream in one fluid motion. I wasn’t an experienced rider, but with the sound of the rider behind me, fear of falling off was the last thing on my mind.

The break in the trees ahead announced the end of the forest, and I urged my horse faster until we made it out of the woods and into a valley.

The Red Forest was an ominous presence on the other side. The sun hadn’t risen, but with the rider closing distance behind me and the adrenalin coursing through my veins, I pushed my horse faster in its direction. We flew across the valley, hooves kicking up grass as they hit the ground forcefully. I squeezed my knees around my horse’s flank to keep me seated, and that only pushed him faster.

By the time I saw the outline of the dark red trees against the silver moonlight and how eerie they were in their stillness, it was too late to change my mind.