Prologue Reveal - From Goodreads: "You may think you have this book figured out, but I'm here to tell you that you're wrong. I can't tell you how many times my jaw dropped while reading this, as Amy surprised me again and again with unexpected plot twists. If you're a fan of fantasy novels looking for something different, make sure you pick this one up!"
Publication date: April 21st, 2015
In a village of masked men, each loves only one woman and must follow the commands of his “goddess” without question. A woman may reject the only man who will love her if she pleases, but she will be alone forever. And a man must stay masked until his goddess returns his love—and if she can’t or won’t, he remains masked forever.
Where the rest of her village celebrates this mystery that binds men and women together, seventeen year old Noll is just done with it. She’s lost all her childhood friends as they’ve paired off, but the worst blow was when her closest companion, Jurij, finds his goddess in Noll’s own sister. Desperate to find a way to break this ancient spell, Noll instead discovers why no man has ever loved her: she is in fact the goddess of the mysterious lord of the village, a Byronic man who refuses to let Noll have her right as a woman to spurn him and who has the power to fight the curse. Thus begins a dangerous game between the two: the choice of woman versus the magic of man. And the stakes are no less than freedom and happiness, life and death—and neither Noll nor the veiled man is willing to lose.
EXCERPT
When
I had real friends, I was the long-lost
queen of the elves.
A warrior queen who hitched up her skirt and wielded a
blade. Who held her retainers in thrall.
Until they left me for their goddesses.
Love. A curse that
snatches friends away.
One day, when only two of my retainers remained, the
old crone who lived on the northern outskirts of the village was our prey. It
was twenty points if you spotted her. Fifty points if you got her to look at
you. A hundred points if she started screaming at you.
You won for life if you got close enough to touch her.
“Noll, please don’t do this,” whispered Jurij from
behind the wooden kitten mask covering his face. Really, his mother still put
him in kitten masks, even though eleven was too old for a boy to be wearing
kittens and bunnies. Especially ones that looked likely to get eaten for
breakfast by as much as a weasel.
“Shut up, I want to see this!” cried Darwyn. Never a
kitten, Darwyn always wore a wolf mask. Yet behind the nasty tooth-bearing wolf
grin—one of my father’s better masks—he was very much a fraidycat.
Darwyn shoved Jurij aside so he could crouch behind
the bush that was our threadbare cover. Jurij nearly toppled over, but I caught
him and set him gently upright. Sometimes I didn’t know if Jurij realized who
was supposed to be serving whom. Queens shouldn’t have to keep retainers from
falling.
“Quiet, both of you.” I scanned the horizon. Nothing.
All was still against the northern mountains save for the old crone’s musty
shack with its weakly smoking chimney.
The edges of my skirt had grazed the dusty road behind us, and I hitched it up
some more so my mother wouldn’t notice later. If she didn’t want me to get the
blasted thing dirty, she should have let me wear Jurij’s trousers, like I had
been that morning. That got me a rap on the back of the head with a wooden
spoon, a common occurrence when I was queen. It made me look too much like a
boy, she scolded, and that would cause a panic.
“Are you going or not?” Darwyn was not one for
patience.
“If you’re so eager, why don’t you go?” I snapped back.
Darwyn shook his wolf-head. “Oh, no, not me.”
I grinned. “That’s because you’re scared.”
Darwyn’s muffled voice grew louder. He stood beside me
and puffed out his chest. “I am not! I’ve
been in the commune.”
I poked toward his chest with Elgar, my trusty
elf-blade. “Liar! You have not.”
Darwyn jumped back, evading my blow. “I have too! My
uncle lives there!” He swatted his hand at Elgar. “Get that stick away from
me.”
“It’s not a stick!” Darwyn never believed me when I
said that Elgar was the blade of a warrior. It just happened to resemble a tree
branch.
Jurij’s quiet voice entered the fray. “Your uncle
lives there? That’s awful.” I was afraid he might cry and the tears would get
caught up in the black material that
covered his eyes. I didn’t want him to drown behind the wooden kitty face. He’d
vanish into thin air like everyone else did when they died, and then we’d be
staring down at Jurij’s clothes and the little kitten mask on the ground, and I
was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from giggling. Some death for a
warrior.
Darwyn shrugged and ran a hand over his elbow. “He
moved in there before I was born. I think a weaver lady was his goddess. It’s
not so strange. Didn’t your aunt send her man there, Jurij?”
Jurij was sniffling. Sniffling. He tried to
rub at his nose, but every time he moved
the back of his hand up to his face, it just clunked against the button that
represented the kitten’s nose.
I sighed and patted Jurij on the back. “A queen’s retainer must never cry, Jurij.”
Darwyn laughed. “Are you still playing that? You’re no
queen, Noll!”
I stopped patting
Jurij and balled my hands into fists. “Be quiet, Darwyn! You used to play it,
too!”
Darwyn put two fingers over his wolf-mask mouth, a gesture we had long ago
decided would stand for the boys sticking out their tongues. Although Darwyn
was the only one who ever did it as of late. “Like I’d want to do what some girl tells me! Girls aren’t even blessed
by love!”
“Of course they are!” It was my turn to put the two
fingers over my mouth. I had a tongue, but a traitorous retainer like Darwyn
wasn’t worthy of the effort it took to stick it out. “Just wait until you find
your goddess, and then we’ll see! If she turns out to be me, I’ll make sure you
rot away in the commune with the rest of the unloved men.”
Darwyn lunged forward and tackled me. My head dragged
against the bush before it hit the
ground, but it still hurt; I could feel the swelling underneath the tangled
knots in my hair. Elgar snapped as I tried to get a grip on my attacker. I
kicked and shoved him, and for a moment, I won the upper hand and rolled on top
of him, almost punching him in the face. Remembering the mask, I settled for
giving him a good smack in the side, but then he kicked upward and caught me in
the chest, sending me backward.
“Stop!” pleaded Jurij. He was standing between us now,
the little timid kitten watching first one friend and then the other, like we
were a dangling string in motion.
“Stay out of this!” Darwyn jumped to his feet and
pointed at me. “She thinks she’s so high and mighty, and she’s not even
someone’s goddess yet!”
“I’m only twelve, idiot! How many goddesses are
younger than thirteen?” A few, but not many. I scrambled to my feet and sent my
tongue out at him. It felt good knowing he couldn’t do the same to me, after
all. My head ached. I didn’t want him to see the tears forming in my eyes,
though, so I ground my teeth once I drew my tongue inward.
“Yeah, well, it’ll be horrible for whoever finds the
goddess in you!” Darwyn made to lunge at me again, but this time Jurij shoved
both his hands at Darwyn’s chest to stop him.
“Just stop,” commanded Jurij. Finally. That was a good
retainer.
My eyes wandered to the old crone’s cottage. No sign
of her. How could she fail to hear the epic struggle outside her door? Maybe
she wasn’t real. Maybe just seeing her was worth twenty points after all.
“Get out of my way, you baby!” shouted Darwyn. “So
what happens if I pull off your mask when your queen is looking, huh? Will you die?”
His greedy fingers reached toward Jurij’s wooden
animal face. Even from behind, I could see the mask tip dangerously to one
side, the strap holding it tightly against Jurij’s dark curls shifting. The strap
broke free, flying up over his head.
My mouth opened to scream. My hands reached up to
cover my eyes. My eyelids strained to close, but it felt as if the moment had
slowed and I could never save him in time. Such simple things. Close your eyes.
Cover your eyes. Scream.
“Do not fool
with such things, child!”
A dark, dirty shawl went flying onto the bush that we
had ruined during our fight.
I came back to life. My head and Darwyn’s wolf mask
spun toward the source of the sound. As my head turned, I saw—even though I
knew better than to look—Jurij crumple to the ground, clinging both arms across
his face desperately because his life depended on it.
“Your eyes better be closed, girl!” The old crone
bellowed. Her own eyes were squeezed together.
I jumped and shut my eyes tightly.
“Hold that shawl tightly over your face, boy, until
you can wear your mask properly!” screamed the old crone. “Off with you both,
boys! Now! Off with you!”
I heard Jurij and Darwyn scrambling, the rustle of the
bush and the stomps of their boots as
they fled, panting. I thought I heard a scream—not from Jurij, but from Darwyn.
He was the real fraidycat. An old crone
was no match for the elf queen’s retainers. But the queen herself was far
braver. So I told myself over and over in my head.
When the last of their footsteps faded away, and I was
sure that Jurij was safe from my stare, I
looked.
Eyes. Huge, bulbous, dark brown eyes. Staring directly
into mine.
The crone’s face was so close I could smell the
shriveled decay from her mouth. She grabbed me by the shoulders, shaking me.
“What were you thinking? You held that boy’s life in your hands! Yet you stood
there like a fool, just starin’ as his mask came off.”
My heart beat faster, and I gasped for more air, but I
wanted to avoid inhaling her stench. “I’m sorry, Ingrith,” I mumbled. I thought if I used her real name, if I let
her lecture me like all the other adults, it would help me break free from her
grasp. I twisted and pulled, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch her. I had
this notion that if I touched her, my fingers would decay.
“Sorry is just a word. Sorry
changes nothing.”
“Let me go.” I could still feel her dirty nails on my
skin.
“You watch yourself, girl.”
“Let me go!”
The crone’s lips grew tight and puckered. Her fingers
relaxed ever so slightly. “You children don’t realize. The lord is watching. Always watching—”
I knew what she was going to say, the words so
familiar to me that I knew them as well as if they were my own. “And he will
not abide villagers who forget the first goddess’s teachings.” The sentence
seemed to loosen the crone’s fingers. She opened her mouth to speak, but I
broke free and ran.
My eyes fell to the grass below my feet as I cut
across the fields to get away from the monster. On the borders of the eastern
woods was a lone cottage, home of Gideon the woodcarver, a warm and comfortable
place so much fuller of life than the shack I left behind me. When I was near
the woods, I could look up freely since
the trees blocked the eastern mountains from view. But until I got closer …
“Noll! Wait up!”
My eyes snapped upward on instinct. I saw the upper
boughs of the trees and almost screamed, my gaze falling back to the grass
beneath my feet. I stopped running and let the gentle rustlings of footsteps
behind me catch up.
“Jurij, please.” I sighed and turned around to face
him, my eyes still on the grass and the pair of small dark boots that covered
his feet. Somehow he managed to step delicately through the grass, not
disturbing a single one of the lilies that covered the hilltops. “Don’t scare
me like that. I almost looked at the castle.”
The toe of Jurij’s boot dug a little into the dirt.
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Is your mask on?”
The boot stopped
moving, and the tip of a black shawl dropped into my view. “Oh. Yeah.”
I shook my head and raised my eyes. There was no need
to fear looking up to the west. In the distance, the mountains that encircled
our village soared far beyond the western fields of crops. I liked the
mountains. From the north, the south, and the west, they embraced our village
with their jagged peaks. In the south, they watched over our fields of
livestock. In the north, they towered above a quarry for copper and stone. And
in the east, they led home and to the woods. But no girl or woman could ever
look up when facing the east. Like the faces of men and boys before their Returnings, just a glance at the castle that
lay beyond the woods against the eastern mountains spelled doom. The earth
would shake and threaten to consume whoever broke the commandment not to look.
It made walking home a bit of a pain, to say the
least.
“Tell me something important like that before you
sneak up on me.”
Jurij’s kitten mask was once again tight against his face, if askew.
The strap was a bit tangled in his dark curls and the pointed tip of one of his
ears. “Right. Sorry.”
He held out the broken pieces of Elgar wrapped in the
dirty black shawl. He seemed very retainer-like. I liked that. “I went to give
this back to the—the lady. She wasn’t there, but you left Elgar.”
I snatched the pieces from Jurij’s hands. “You went
back to the shack? What were you going to say? ‘Sorry
we were spying on you pretending you were a monster, thanks for the dirty old
rag?’”
“No.” Jurij crumpled up the shawl and tucked it under
his belt. A long trail of black cloth tumbled out immediately, making Jurij
look like he had on half a skirt.
I laughed. “Where’s Darwyn?”
“Home.”
Of course. I found out later that Darwyn had whined
straight to his mother that “nasty old Noll” almost knocked his mask off. It was a great way to get
noticed when you had countless brothers and a smitten mother and father
standing between you and any form of attention. But it didn’t have the intended
effect on me. I was used to lectures, and besides, there was something more
important bothering me by then.
I picked up my feet to carry me back home.
Jurij skipped forward to join me. One of his boots
stumbled as we left the grasses behind and hit the dirt path. “What happened
with you and the crone?”
I gripped the pieces of Elgar tighter in my fist.
“Nothing.” I stopped, relieved that we’d finally gotten close enough to the
woods that I could face forward. I put an arm on Jurij’s shoulder to stop him.
“But I touched her.” Or she touched me. “That means I win forever.”
The kitten face cocked a little sideways. “You always
win.”
“Of course. I’m the queen.” I tucked the broken pieces
of Elgar into my apron sash. Elgar was more of a title, bestowed on an endless
number of worthy sticks, but in those days I wouldn’t have admitted that to
Jurij. “Come on. I’ll give you a head start. Race you to the cavern!”
“The cavern? But it’s—”
“Too late! Your head start’s over!” I kicked my feet
up and ran as if that was all my legs knew how to do. The cool breeze slapping
across my face felt lovely as it flew inside my nostrils and mouth. I rushed
past my home, not bothering to look inside the open door.
“Stop! Stop! Noll, you stop this instant!”
The words were something that could easily come out of
a mother’s mouth, but Mother had a little more patience than that. And her
voice didn’t sound like a fragile little bird chirping at the sun’s rising.
“Noll!”
I was just an arm’s length from the start of the trees,
but I stopped, clutching the sharp pain that kicked me in the side.
“Oh dear!” Elfriede walked out of our house, the
needle and thread she was no doubt using to embroider some useless pattern on
one of the aprons still pinched between two fingers. My sister was a little
less than a year older than me, but to my parents’ delight (and disappointment with
me), she was a hundred times more responsible.
“Boy, your mask!” Elfriede never did learn any of my
friends’ names. Not that I could tell her Roslyn from her Marden, either. One
giggling, delicate bird was much like another.
She walked up to Jurij, who had just caught up behind
me. She covered her eyes with her needle-less hand, but I could see her peeking
between her fingers. I didn’t think that would actually protect him if the
situation were as dire as she seemed to think.
“It’s crooked.” Elfriede’s voice was hoarse, almost
trembling. I rolled my eyes.
Jurij patted his head with both hands until he found
the bit of the strap stuck on one of his ears. He pulled it down and twisted
the mask until it lined up evenly.
I could hear Elfriede’s sigh of relief from where I
was standing. She let her fingers fall from her face. “Thank the goddess.” She
considered Jurij for a moment. “There’s a little tear in your strap.”
Without asking, she closed the distance between them
and began sewing the small tear even as the mask sat on his head. From how tall
she stood above him, she might have been ten years older instead of only two.
I walked back toward them, letting my hands fall.
“Don’t you think that’s a little stupid? What if the mask slips while you’re
doing that?”
Elfriede’s cheeks darkened and she yanked the needle
up, pulling her instrument free of the thread and tucking the extra bit into
the mask strap. She stood back and glared at me. “Don’t you talk to me about
being stupid, Noll. All that running isn’t safe when you’re with boys. Look how
his mask was moving.”
His mask had moved for even more dangerous reasons
than a little run, but I knew better than to tell tattletale Elfriede that.
“How would you know what’s safe when
you’re with boys? You’re already thirteen, and no one has found the goddess in
you!” Darwyn’s taunt was worth reusing, especially since I knew my sister would
be more upset about it than I ever was.
Elfriede bit her lip. “Go ahead and kill your friends,
then, for all I care!” The bird wasn’t so beautiful and fragile where I was
concerned.
She retreated into the house and slammed the door
behind her. I wrapped my hand around Jurij’s arm, pulling him eastward. “Come
on. Let’s go. There’re bound to be more
monsters in the cavern.”
Jurij didn’t give beneath my pull. He wouldn’t move.
“Jurij?”
I knew right then, somewhere in my mind, what had
happened. But I was twelve. And Jurij was my last real friend. I knew he’d
leave me one day like the others, but on some level, I didn’t really believe it
yet.
Jurij stood stock still, even as I wrenched my arm
harder and harder to get him to move.
“Oh for—Jurij!”
I yelled, dropping my hands from his arm in frustration. “Ugh. I wish I was
your goddess just so I could get you to obey
me. Even if that means I’d have to put up with all that—yuck—smooching.” I shivered at the thought.
At last Jurij moved, if only to lift his other arm, to
run his fingers across the strap that Elfriede had mended. She was gone from my
sight, but Jurij would never see another.
It struck them all. Sometime around Jurij’s age, the
boys’ voices cracked, shifting from high to deep and back again in a matter of
a few words. They went from little wooden-faced
animals always shorter than you to young men on their way to towering over you.
And one day, at one moment, at some age, earlier for some and later for others,
they looked at a girl they’d probably seen thousands of times before and simply
ceased to be. At least, they weren’t who I knew them to be ever again.
And as with so many of my friends before Jurij, in
that moment all other girls ceased to matter. I was nothing to him now, an
afterthought, a shadow, a memory.
No.
Not him.
My dearest, my most special friend of all, now doomed
to live or die by the choice of the fragile little bird who’d stopped to mend
his strap.
About the author:
Amy McNulty is a freelance writer and editor from Wisconsin with an honors degree in English. She was first published in a national scholarly journal (The Concord Review) while in high school and currently spends her days alternatively writing on business and marketing topics and primarily crafting stories with dastardly villains and antiheroes set in fantastical medieval settings.
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