A Girl Named Calamity (Alyria 1)

I had a lot of hopes. But the only one I truly desired was that my name wouldn’t become my fate.

—Calamity

PROLOGUE

WELCOME TO ALYRIA

My eyes widened as Grandmother came into sight of the cottage. No wonder she had wanted to go into town alone; I would have never let her buy such a thing. Where did she even find the money?

“Why do we need a horse?” I asked.

Grandmother led a chestnut gelding beside her. He was beautiful, with a white blaze down his nose and four white socks.

“I thought a horse could help us plow the garden.”

My brows pulled together. “The garden? Grandmother, our garden is the size of this horse.” All we had planted was a small amount of vegetables and potatoes for the two of us, and Grandmother’s healing herbs.

She glanced at me, her expression of disapproval. I should have known she would ignore my question with the way I was dressed. “Do you listen to anything I teach you?” she asked, putting her hand on her hip. I’d been more focused on the horse when Grandmother came into sight of the cottage than how I had looked.

“Of course.” Sometimes . . .

“Then why do you look like a strumpet?”

I sighed. The hem of my skirts was tucked into the girdle of my dress, allowing a breeze to my legs. Grandmother always had a way with propriety. One I never understood. We were peasants. Why did we have to act like the women at court?

“Why did you buy a horse?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“I already told you.”

A frown pulled on my lips. We didn’t need a horse to plow the garden. It had always been my job, and there was no reason that Grandmother should have spent a fortune on a horse to do it.

I crossed my arms. “Where did you get the money?”

“Girl, stop with the inquisition. It’s been a long walk back from town,” she said as she headed past me to the small stable we owned, which was more suited for a donkey than a horse.

Worry began to gnaw at me, and I chewed my lip. Was this the first sign of her losing her mind as I’d heard of others doing with old age?

“Have you thought about the blacksmith’s son’s marriage offer?”

I paused. Was that why she had bought the horse? Because she thought I was going to leave her?

“I’m thinking about it, Grandmother.” I was hardly thinking about anything else. It wasn’t even that I was thinking so much about him, than I was my future. I felt out of place as I looked at our small cottage; the shabby roof, the warped wooden door, and the dirty glass windows.

It had always been home, but I’d wondered what would come next. Surely this small life in Alger wouldn’t be my only future. And then when men began to show some interest, a new door opened. A door I didn’t necessarily want, but a door nonetheless. Guilt sank like lead in my stomach. I was itching for something else in my life while Grandmother might be losing her mind? What was wrong with me?

“I just want you to be happy, Cal.”

I forced the guilt down. “No, you want grandchildren.”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “That, too.”

“No matter what happens, I will always be here to help you,” I said. We only had a small farm with a few chickens and one dairy cow, but it was still a substantial amount of work. And I supposed now a horse to take care of . . . “Grand—”

“Go get some Elderflower from the garden, please,” she cut me off.

“What for?”

“Someone in town is having an allergic reaction. They will be here in a little bit.”

Grandmother was the healer in Alger. Some villagers were wary of her unusual practices, but when they were bleeding out, or their skin was rotting away from the Pox, many quickly changed their minds. It wasn’t as though Grandmother’s practice of magic was unusual. It was that she was doing it in Alger; the city known for a quiet magic-free life.

In truth, it was nothing special compared to the rest of Alyria. It was said the land had whispered its name into the first people’s ears who settled here. Many families traveled from Elian, the neighboring country to the new and exciting Alyria. The magic used to be free for everyone to use until it had swum around in human men’s heads whispering thoughts of insanity. But sin

ce the magic had been sealed into the land, only those with the innate ability could use it. Grandmother had a little magic, something that hadn’t been passed down to me.

I sighed and walked up towards the garden, leaving my skirts tucked into my girdle and my sleeves pushed up to my elbows. The sun glinted off the two silver cuffs adorning my wrists like expensive metal shackles. They were big enough to slide up and down in the bath, but I never took them off. The children whom I had played with in the past always assumed I had a wealthy father, as there was no other reasonable explanation for me to have them.

The truth was, I had no father. And I knew of no reason I had to wear them either. But Grandmother was stern, insistent on the fact that I should never take them off. Instead of feeling special for wearing such expensive cuffs, it felt as if they were grounding me to a life that wasn’t meant to be.

Whenever I spoke to Grandmother about them, she evaded the question or she got defensive. The only words she’d ever shared with me were to never take them off. I’d come to my own conclusion that she had put an enchantment on them to keep me safe. I was the only person in her life, and I believed she was only trying to protect me.

Although, after this new purchase of hers, I imagined I would have to sell them so we could get by, regardless of the way she felt about it.

I shook my head, not believing she had spent so much money on something as trivial as plowing the garden. I hoped she hadn’t spent all of our small savings. I swallowed, while worry eased its way into my chest. What would I do without her if she was sick?

I didn’t know. I could handle anything but that.

Though, I might have spoken a bit too soon.

CHAPTER ONE

THE TRUTH OF TWO SILVER CUFFS

A draft and a tug on my wrist woke me from a fitful sleep. I sighed, rolling over on my pallet while expecting the morning sunrise and my grandmother’s berating voice. But no light shined through the small window, and the sight I saw instead, sent an icy chill down my spine.

A sick woman stood over me. Long blond hair, similar to mine, but stuck to her sweat-soaked face. She looked familiar as if I should have known her, but I was sure that I’d never seen her before. She would have been beautiful if not for the pallor of her skin and her thin body.

I let out a breath, trying to calm my drumming heart and scooted back a foot. She must be here to see Grandmother. I was about to shout to wake her, but the woman’s agonized moan did it instead as she hunched over in pain.

“What’s going on?” Grandmother hollered from her pallet in the corner. I looked the woman over, wondering what could be causing her so much pain when I realized she had one of my silver cuffs in her hands. My eyes immediately shot to my wrist, to check if what I saw was actually real. It felt as if I were naked as I stared at my bare wrist graced with a tan line. The sensation of having it off was freeing, and yet had apprehension rolling in my stomach.

The woman backed up, knocking a book off the table she was using for support and eyed the door. I wanted to tell her to take it and run, but after a second of deliberation, I changed my mind. Grandmother would be furious, but in reality, the woman didn’t look like she could walk let alone run.