The Secret Keeper’s Daughter

Excerpt

If it snows any harder, I won’t be able to finish my normal day’s workload—not that the weather would be an acceptable excuse for Gunnar. My stepfather’s expectations have never been reasonable, particularly where I’m concerned. I’d run away if it weren’t for my mother, and I’d take her with me if he wouldn’t kill me for it. If leaving wouldn’t kill her.

Thinking of her pushes me to work harder. Ever since she got sick, I’ve been relegated to menial work. Gunnar knows I won’t tell her because the last thing I want is to add to her worries when she can’t even get out of bed. She’s already concerned about us kids, and especially me.

I keep telling her I’ll be fine, and I will be. I’m just not sure what that’ll look like. Though her husband is the only father figure I’ve ever known, he’s always made it clear I’m not his. Once Mother’s illness finally wins, he’s either going to give me worse work—if possible—or banish me from the family’s farm.

He never misses an opportunity to remind me I don’t belong, and he’ll never give me anything of his.

I toss the steaming horse manure into a bucket then set the shovel aside. It’s almost impossible to see the house through the squall. As snowflakes dance to the ground, I plead to the skies for help. I’m not sure anyone up there is listening, or if there’s any entities up there at all, but I really don’t have any other option.

Nobody down here can do anything for me, and Gunnar won’t.

“Eira! Eira!”

Instinctively, I grab the shovel and start scooping more excrement.

My youngest sister Runa hurries toward me. She slips on the ice then skids to a stop inches from me, gasping for air and loosening the top of her fur coat. “I ran all… the way here… Mother… she…”

“Stop!” I don’t wait to hear the rest. There’s only one reason anyone would race all this way to tell me about Mother.

She’s near the end. This is it. The only reason Runa is here.

The silent tears trailing down my sister’s pale cheeks tell me I’m right. She tucks one of her tiny, nearly-white braids behind an ear and chews on her lower lip. More tears pool in her light eyes.

I need to be strong for her, for all of my siblings. In any other situation, as the oldest daughter I’d have been slated to step into Mother’s role as caregiver and head of household duties the moment she got sick. Definitely once she leaves the earth. I’ll do what I can while I’m able, assuming Gunnar hasn’t already thrown my things into the fire.

And assuming she hasn’t already passed away.

That’s a thought I can’t even comprehend.

I take Runa’s hand, her skin looking even paler next to mine. “Let’s go.”

She sniffles as she nods, then we burst into a run. Snowflakes smack my face in tiny icy bursts, but I ignore them. Thankfully my fur coat protects the rest of my body. Between the heavy pelts and running from the animal fields to the house, I’m drenched in sweat as my sister and I race up the creaky front steps.

Runa flings open the front door. “Hurry!”

We barely take the time to hang our coats inside before racing to the big bedroom. All of my other siblings are already gathered around the large canopied bed. I can’t even see Mother with such a crowd around her.

“She wants to talk to you alone.” My stepfather’s fair brows draw together. The warning in his piercing eyes tells me not to take up too much of her remaining time.

If it were up to him, I wouldn’t even get to say goodbye to my own mother.

He gathers my siblings, and for a rare moment I get her all to myself. I hurry to Mother’s side and take her hands in mine. “I’m here, Mama.”

I haven’t called her that since I was a little girl—and that’s how I feel suddenly. A lump forms in my throat, and tears sting my eyes. I’ve pushed all my worry and sadness aside since the day she turned ill, and now they threaten to overwhelm me.

My mother turns her head slowly. Her dull eyes light up when our gazes meet. “My precious Eira.”

“Mama.”

“My time has come, darling daughter.”

All I can do is shake my head. I want to tell her she’s wrong, mistaken. But we both know the truth.

“There’s something… I need to tell you. Secrets… I’ve been keeping.”

My heart skips a beat. Is she finally going to tell me about my birth father? She’s always promised she would. Without much time left, the long-awaited day is finally here.

I’d rather have my mother alive and well than know anything about the man who did nothing more than sire me.

“Do you need anything? Can I get you something?” I ask only to put off the inevitable, as if my fussing could add even a moment to her life.

A raspy sigh escapes her mouth. “Your father… isn’t… who you think. Should’ve told you… sooner.”

My stomach drops. I’ve never given any thought to my real father. Literally nothing. The only thing I know is he didn’t stick around to help raise me. Well, that and he obviously has dark hair, eyes, and skin. It’s his features that make me stand out like a palm tree in the snow in a world of blonde hair and light eyes. But other than that, I’ve never wasted my energies pondering his identity or personality. At least, not him specifically. The mysterious half of my heritage, however? I’ve wondered about that more than I’d like to admit.

“You need… to find him. He has… answers. He…” She squeezes my hand. “He’s…”

“Yes?” My breath catches. The suspense is going to do me in. Whatever she’s about to say has to be bad. Maybe he’s in prison for mass murder. Or maybe he’s never been caught. Mother fled here while pregnant. That’s never been a secret. Now I realize she must have been running to keep us safe. It’s the only explanation—I come from someone who’s done terrible things.

“Who is he?” I ask, trying to keep the desperation from my tone. The last thing she needs is any stress right now.

She sucks in a deep breath, closes her eyes. For a moment, I think she took her secret to the grave.

“Mother?” My voice cracks. A tear finally escapes. “Are you still here?”

Her fingers slide through mine and squeeze. She’s still with me. “You… should find him.”

A thought strikes me. My father isn’t a killer, or she wouldn’t tell me to find him. It gives me hope that he isn’t worse than Gunnar. I need to know who he is, because I’m going to need his protection once my stepfather disowns me. Once Mother is gone, I’ll be on my own despite Gunnar’s empty promises to watch out for me.

Mother opens her eyes, meets my gaze. “Find him.”

“Where? Who is he?” I plead.

“He’s… fae.”

The words are like a slap to my face. I struggle to find my voice. “Wh-what?”

She can’t be right. I had to have misheard her. There’s no way my father is fae. It’s impossible. I don’t have any powers. There’s not one thing special about me.

On the other hand, if true, this is a fate worse than death. Everybody hates halflings. Humans and fae hate each other—but both detest halflings. No one accepts them. That explains my stepfather’s utter disdain for me. It isn’t just because I’m another man’s child. I’m a halfling.

It can’t be true. It just can’t.

“D-does Gunnar know?” The question escapes my mouth before I can filter it out.

She shakes her head slowly. “Never tell him.”

Then my stepfather only hates me for normal human reasons. I can only imagine his wrath if he thought I was a halfling.

Mother clears her throat. “Don’t let him find out.”

“To keep me safe.”

She nods. We both know how dangerous this secret is for me.

Knock, knock!

“You’ve had enough time in there!” Gunnar’s voice booms through the thick door.

Mother squeezes my hands again. “You need to know he’s—”

The door bursts open. My stepfather glares at me. “Do you think you’re something special? The rest of us deserve time with her too!”

I glance back down at Mother, her hands limply resting in mine. Silently I plead with her to finish her sentence. To mouth what she was going to tell me. What kind of a fae is my father? And therefore me?

Whatever powers or abilities he has, I have access to as well. I can use those when I’m out on my own protecting myself.

He’ll need to teach me. That is, if he’ll accept his halfling daughter. The fact that he’s never reached out tells me everything I need to know. Unless he stayed away to protect me. No. That’s not a good enough excuse to abandon me.

I’m just as much on my own as I thought. Only now more so. The fact that I’m halfling will only mark me as everyone’s enemy. Soon, all people—human and fae alike—will look at me like Gunnar is glaring at me now.

“Mother?” I squeeze her hands.

She closes her eyes, and she goes limp.

“Mother!”

No response.

I rest my head on her stomach and wail.

Someone pulls me away from her, and I fight them. It’s no use. My stepfather and brothers are bigger and stronger than me.

Gunnar squeezes my arm so tightly that I gasp. His nostrils flare as he stares me down. “Pack your things.”

“But—”

“I already have your future husband on his way.”

Blood drains from my head. “You what?”

“You heard. Go pack your things. I can’t wait for that dowry to be mine.”

I stare at him, dumbfounded. My mother just died moments ago, and he’s marrying me off?

He shoves me. “Get to it!”

The room fills with my nine siblings and other relatives who have been called here for Mother’s end.

I won’t be here to mourn her with them. It doesn’t matter that I’m her firstborn, that she fled to this place to keep me safe. Now I must leave and figure everything out on my own—before a rich, old man arrives to stake his claim on me.

The thought sends a shudder through me. Gunnar wouldn’t care to pick someone kind or compatible with me. He would choose the richest man looking for a wife here in Skoro, and that means only one man. Vog is more than twice my age, is missing teeth, smells bad, and is even crueler than my stepfather. His wife recently died under mysterious circumstances, and there are whispers he had a hand in it.

I have to escape before he arrives, without anyone seeing me go.

Then, in order to survive, I’ll have to figure out who my father is and hope he’ll be willing to help a halfling he never wanted. If he’d accepted me, Mother would’ve stayed with him. But a fae/human couple raising a halfling?

That would never happen.

Fae rule over and oppress humans. They don’t fall in love, and they certainly don’t take care of each other.

I have to pick a side and hide the other half of my identity. Depending on what type of fae I am, I’m either part of the ruling class or the outcasts—the bloodsuckers or shifters who live in and rule the woods. Whether high or lowly, fae terrorize humans. We’re at the bottom of the social chain, lower than the ruthless murderers of the night.

Halflings are even lower than humans.

My father could belong to either class. Either he’s an aristocrat who refused to acknowledge his halfling heir, or he’s a forest dweller who wanted to kill his halfling offspring. Either way, it’s no surprise that Mother ended up on her own. No fae would want me, and I was a baby only a mother could love.

Now I’m a grown woman nobody wants. A despised halfling. I can’t live among humans or fae. Except Mother said to find my father. Might he accept me? Is there a chance? If there is, I need to take it. Even though I don’t know where to begin.

At least I don’t have to live on this farm anymore. Although Gunnar and Vog will surely be after me once they realize I’ve run away. And I’ll be in worse danger if they figure out I’m a halfling. They won’t just kill me—they’ll torture me. Make me wish I was dead.

Maybe I’ll be able to figure out my fae powers on my own and use those against them.

Probably not. From what I’ve heard, most fae spend years honing their powers. As fae are stronger than humans, I’ll probably be safer among them. How can I blend in and find my place amongst their kind? Perhaps my father and his relatives will accept me.

Except my mother moved to Skoro to keep me safe—probably from them. I’m the lowest of the low, after all. Despised by everyone.

Before I can worry about assimilating with my real father’s family, I need to escape my stepfather. First I need to pack what I can carry with me. It’s time to start over.

Completely on my own.