Not the bald, fat shopkeeper—his voice had been harsh and grating. Not Morte or Mordred either. The voice behind me had a musical quality, a rise and fall that charmed the ears. A sound that made you think of a rakish smile and the warm autumn sun. Or it used to. Now hearing it so unexpectedly, it snuck into my soul, as crafty as the man it belonged to and, just as quick, shred it to pieces.
“C’mon, boy. I don’t have all day. Turn around careful like, with no sudden movements.”
Don’t do it, those broken pieces of my soul screamed. Run. Never look back. Never let them see you cry.
Except I was literally in a corner. There was nowhere to run.
I am a child of the trees. Though the wind may howl, I will not break, I reassured myself.
Plastering a mask on my face, I turned and smirked at Robin Hood.
“Long time no see, Dad.”
The prince of thieves stared at me for a good thirty seconds before recognition lit up and widened his moss-green eyes.
“Rexi?!” he whisper shouted, all signs of composure abandoned.
Breaking his cool soothed some of my cracks like poultice.
I am a child of the trees. Though the wind may howl, I will not break. Not for you. Never for you.
“Eyesight failing you a bit, old man? Or maybe you never thought you’d see me again after you sold me off to that moldy green hag?”
He stepped back, putting his hands up in front of him. “Shhh. It wasn’t like that.”
“Oh, it wasn’t?” I railed. “Maybe your memory is as warped as mine, but I can’t imagine another scenario where the master of thieves forgot to steal back his own daughter. I was there. I saw you. You came, then you used me to pay off taxes and left me to rot in Emerald!”
Anger and yelling wasn’t stealth, but it was either that or dissolve into tears.
I’d rather die for real.
The pawnbroker snorted loudly and jerked, knocking over some of his goods before settling down again.
“Did I teach you nothing?” Dad set his crossbow to the side and grabbed a coin purse from a hidden compartment under the till. “Your whining can wait until we’re done here.”
Wrong thing to say.
“Oh, spell no—”
Dad stopped retreating and rushed me, putting his hands over my mouth. I did the only sensible thing. I bit him.
At that point, a lot of things happened at once. Dad yowled. DumBeau came crashing through the door, bringing the support beam I’d attached his leash to with him. The racket snapped the pawnbroker to attention. He grabbed one of his stock of Excalibur knockoffs and came lumbering toward us much faster than his girth suggested he was capable of, especially with a portion of the roof raining down around him.
“Now, look at what you’ve done. Haven’t changed a bit, I see,” Dad said, breaking into a run—but not before grabbing what he could on the way out.
“Me?” I said, sprinting faster, passing him. “Here’s a news flash. Your debt is paid in full and your daughter died. So from now on, pretend you don’t know me.”
We made it outside while the pawnbroker picked his way through the debris. Dad snagged my hood and yanked, pulling me to him in a crushing embrace.
“Hey. Get off.”
That only made him hold tighter.
“Stupid, willful child. I never thought I’d see you again. This isn’t over. I’ll lead him away and meet you at the tree house.” He trailed off, then reached low and tossed me straight up into the air as if I weighed less than a leaf.
Swallowing a shriek, I grabbed a branch and hung on, taking shelter in the trees as Dad bolted into the forest, the pawnbroker chasing after him.
“Newly Reduced Price: The perfect cookie-cutter home for anyone with a sweet tooth. Plenty of upgrades, but needs a new oven. Motivated sellers. MUST SEE!”
—Rumpel’s Real Estate Brokers
9
Home Decrepit Home
I bit my lip, half to stop it from trembling and half to stop from screaming curses after my father. Like one hug and leading the fat baldy away would make up for leaving me for SIX YEARS?! He could go to rot for all I cared. I didn’t need his approval. His love.
“Argh. Do you hear me? I don’t need you!” I scoffed at him even though he was out of earshot. “You must be snorting pixie dust if you think I’m gonna fall for this again. That I’ll go wait for you not to come back for me.”
And yet, as soon as it was safe to jump down from my hiding place, my feet still headed to the treetops I’d grown up in rather than taking the fastest way out of the woods and back to the land of Fairy Tales. “The merry men’s camp is sort of on the way,” I rationalized.
In the same way that if you kept turning left, you’d eventually go right.
My footsteps started off slow, but soon they quickened, maxing out my speed. I raced back to the home of my youth, hoping that maybe just this once.…
A smile split my face even as my nerves and the jogging made my tummy roil. What would Will and Tuck say when they saw me after so long? Had they wondered where I’d gone? I’d never managed to be one of the boys, but they’d tolerated me while I tried.
Fryer Tuck in particular took care of me when the guys’ relentless teasing proved too much. We’d kept vigil over the campfires and grills together, and Tuck had taught me the subtle art of revenge: spitting or putting boogers in Will’s food.
The skill proved quite useful in the Emerald kitchens.
For years, I’d kept most of my merry girl memories locked tight in a corner of my mind, but I freed them now. I could hear my childhood giggles in the rustling of the leaves. I could feel the thrill of climbing trees and leaping from branch to branch like a flying squirrel. I was better at it than any other—even if I always came up short in the archery and looting departments. Sure, I could swipe all manner of little, broken, discarded trinkets, but that didn’t pay the bribes or the taxes.
Still, I’d proudly bring Dad all the old pots and slipped horseshoes I’d found in the forest. He’d sigh and pat my head, then send me off to Tuck to fry up some food while he went back out to rob from the rich and give to the poor. And given that we lived in trees, there really wasn’t anyone poorer than us.
But it had been a good life, and I missed it fiercely when I was in a soft bed during my Emerald imprisonment. A daring thought darted through my head. Perhaps this was where my story was supposed to go, now that I was free of that Emerald nonsense. I didn’t need a new life; I could just go back to my old one—my pre-Dorthea life.