The ringleader of the raiders narrowed light gray eyes at the struggling child, his lips set in a grim line over a bristly white beard. “What does your magic do, boy?”

Magic. He went still, and fear wicked through him like snow melting against bare skin. 

Now even the raiders would know he had no value. 

The man shook him so hard his head snapped. “Answer me!”

I blink, coming back to the present moment with a sharp inhale. The room shifts into focus: our one-room cottage, my mam kneading dough at the kitchen table, the fire steady in the hearth and adding to the heat of the day.

And the last vestiges of the vision slip away like wisps of fog in the sunlight. 

My heart races too fast, and I rub the palm of my hand into my chest, where the constant prickliness grows into a buzzing. 

I’ve never had a vision before.

It couldn’t have been a vision. Just a daydream. Dozing off while gazing outside.

But then, who was the boy? And how could they speak so casually of magic when it’s forbidden?

“Amrys,” Mam says, drawing me back into the stifling air of the kitchen.

She’s unaware that a moment ago, I was in another place, perhaps another time, watching an event unfold that has zero meaning to me.

Yet, the voices whisper. Voices only I can hear.

A chill runs through me, and I shudder.

The buzzing intensifies, making my head pound.

“Amrys,” she says again, and this time she comes around the table, taking my shoulder with a flour-covered hand and turning me to face her. Her brow knits as she studies my face. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” I whisper, but I’m terrified she’ll see through me. 

Something changed after Anwen and Idris disappeared.

The villagers say they ran away together. They were betrothed. They couldn’t wait. They wanted to get out from under King Afon’s thumb and his rules and taxes.

It makes sense.

Except Anwen was my best friend. And I know what she really felt for Idris.

She wouldn’t leave without telling me.

But she did. Only three weeks ago, and I miss her something fierce. 

In her place, the voices came. I wake up at night with a sense of dread heavy in my chest. 

And now a vision.

Not a vision, I tell myself. Just my imagination going overboard.

Because I’m scared something happened to her. Something that prevented her from bidding me farewell.

Something to do with Idris.

Mam’s eyes narrow as she studies my face, and she exhales. “You’re worried about the claiming tonight?”

The claiming. I grasp at her words and nod, relieved she thinks that’s what I’m worried about. I’ve spared little thought for the Calan Mai festival tonight. 

Even though we both expect Brenin to claim me as his woman. It’s tradition. Tonight he can take me without a bride price, without speaking with my father.

Which is good, because my father’s not here. 

“When will Tad return?” I ask. “Didn’t the king say he only needed the men for a fortnight?”

Mam’s shoulders tighten, and her lips compress, but she doesn’t meet my eyes.. “It’s within the king’s right to extend their duty,” she says. “The men owe King Afon one month of service every year.”

“Then they should be back any day now,” I say. “It’s been five weeks.”

She sighs and pounds into the dough as if she’d exact her anger on it. “I know you want your father here. But consider instead how fortunate you are the king only wanted experienced warriors, or your brother and Brenin would both be gone as well.”

I snort, imagining my awkward younger brother trying to handle a broad sword. “Tarrant would cause bodily harm to himself if you put a weapon in his hands.”

“He’s only fourteen, Amrys. Give him some time.” But she’s fighting a smile. 

They are coming.

I bang my thigh against the kitchen table and spin around to look outside. 

The heat from the cooking fire washes over my face, causing sweat to bead along my hairline and making my arms sticky. 

They are closer. 

The words whisper fear across my skin, raising goosebumps in spite of the heat.

A shudder runs through me. The scarf around my hair traps the heat close to my head, but it can’t stave off the cold chill at the nape of my neck.

Who is coming?

Is it the menfolk?

I grip the counter and then release it with a shake of my head. It’s just because of the vision. It has me spooked.

Mam clucks her tongue. “There’s a reason your father put a sword in your hand instead of his,” she says, continuing our conversation as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening. 

But I barely hear her, I’m so distracted. 

“And maybe because you’re useless in the kitchen,” she adds, casting another glance at me as I stand there proving her point. “Off with you, find your brother and tell him to stop wasting time at the river. I need more hazel for the festival.”

I jerk my head in agreement. “Yes, Mam.”

Outside, a raven calls, and three of the black birds descend to rest on a low branch visible through the window. Even Mam looks up over. 

Neither of us speaks as we stare at the dark omen.

“They are just birds,” she says, breaking the silence and attacking the bread again. 

A cloud covers the sun, casting the room in shadow. The ravens scream and take to the sky, and we both turn our faces toward them. Tight lines around my mother’s eyes betray her own uneasiness. Neither of us breathes, waiting to hear voices, calls, whistles, anything to mean the men have returned.

But there’s only the ravens, screeching as they circle before coming to land again. One turns its head, its beady black eye pinning me in place. Staring at me. 

I don’t take my eyes from it. 

A raw edge of darkness rubs at my flesh, leaving me jumpy with apprehension.

Whispers in the corner of the room tug at my thoughts, but I resist looking up. I know what I will see: my new companion, the black haze, the one that haunts me when my nightmares wake me in the night. Tiny fingers like wisps of smoke only I can see, reaching toward me.

My blood pulses in my temples, my breath quickening.

Am I going insane? How much longer will I be able to hide it?

Mam’s shoulders droop. “Find Terrant for me. I want him home.” She pushes my dark hair back beneath my scarf. “Your father will be back before the festival. I’m certain of it.”

“Yes, Mam,” I say. I grab a basket in case I find mushrooms or berries along the way, then I duck out the door. 

The smithy behind our house is silent. I glance at it, longing to see smoke from my father’s fires filtering through the thatched roof. A month is a long time to not hear the echoes of Tad’s hammer in the forge. But he left with the other men.

Dust kicks up around my bare feet as I find the path winding away from our one-room house. The trees have let loose their leaves and obscure the river running through the forest, but from here I can see the trail of new growth the water prompts in its wake. 

I stroll down the hill, past the children racing the chickens across the dirt, past the cluster of houses closer to the river. A few people glance my way, but nobody smiles or waves or calls out to me, and a few turn their faces away. Brenin is the only person in the village who accepts me. If he thinks I’m odd, it doesn’t bother him. 

I spot the fields to his house and make a detour, crossing the path that leads through the pastures where his family’s cows wander near the trees. I could use a friendly face.

A horse whinnies in the distance, somewhere between the forest and the fields. The sound is quiet, but tiny flashes of green prance to life in front of my vision, sharpening my hearing. I turn my face, listening.

The tremors in the dirt tell the story of several horses. Too fast for a caravan, too many to be mere visitors.

A scream rings out, followed by a dog’s frantic barking before it yelps and goes silent.

They are here, the voices whisper.

A sheet of solid terror slams into my body at the same time the realization crashes through my mind.  

“Raiders!” I cry.  

The word rips from my throat, barely louder than a whisper, but it cuts through the chaos in my mind like a blade. More screams, cries, wails reach my ears, and the acrid scent of burning floods my nostrils, stinging my eyes. Smoke is rising now, dark plumes curling into the sky. 

The village is on fire.