Devil's Playground by Heather Eagar

Author:Heather Eagar [Eager, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-62135-486-4
Publisher: Clean Reads

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After retrieving supplies from the house, I prepare to head back into the woods. We had a lot of food stored for the winter, but our supply is dwindling fast. I hope it will hold out a little longer, at least until we figure out what to do next. I throw the heavy sack over my shoulder, but lose my balance and the sack falls to the floor beside me. It sits there, taunting me. I don’t know how I am going to manage this. The thought of journeying all the way back tonight, with or without the food, makes me want to cry. But my family is counting on me. I plant my feet and heave the sack over my shoulder once more, my knees buckling under the weight.

It is not going to be possible to carry the food back until I regain my strength. It has been taxing staying invisible, not to mention the effort it took to burn a hole in Hathorne’s door; my body doesn’t know what to do with itself. With time I will become stronger, and I will be able to do more without tiring, but time is not something I have on my side.

Dropping the sack by the cold fireplace, I slump into the chair Father sat in each evening. It seems like years since we last gathered around him, the fire crackling as he read from the Bible. Isaiah is his favorite and was the prophet we heard most often. I hated it then, but I miss it now.

As the sun begins to set, a cool breeze sweeps through a crack in one of the windows, and I wrap my arms around myself. I am tempted to use my powers to start a fire in the hearth, but know that would not be wise. I am so weak, even attempting it would be futile and only drain what strength I have left.

I could try to make it back to my family without using my magic, letting the dark night be my cover. But even if I manage to get to the woods unnoticed and I don’t run into the deputies, it is a half a day’s journey, and I cannot imagine making it halfway down the road. “What am I going to do?” I mutter. “I should not be here.”

“But then you wouldn’t be able to see me!”

My head whips toward the sound of the voice I still hear in my dreams. I wonder if I have fallen asleep and this is just another trick my cruel subconscious is playing on me. Sebastian stands in the doorway to my home, the setting sun bathing him in its glory. A slight breeze rustles his hair. With a tired smile, I rest my head on the back of the chair. Even if it is just a dream, I will take what I can get.

“Not even a hello?” the voice asks.

My head pops back up. “Hello?”

“I’ve had better.” Sebastian laughs. “But it will do.

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