Chapter 1
THE NAME STOLEN BY NIGHT
CHAPTER 1: THE VILLAGE THAT DID NOT KNOW HER
Rain had been falling since before sunrise.
In the village of Vareth, rain was nothing unusual. The village stood between an ancient forest and rolling hills that were shrouded in mist for most of the year. Stone houses lined the narrow streets, their roofs darkened by age, while iron lanterns hung beside their doors even when daylight was bright enough to see by. The people of Vareth were accustomed to damp air, muddy ground, and the sound of branches scraping against one another in the middle of the night.
But that morning, something was different.
No roosters crowed. No merchants opened their stalls early. Even the dogs that usually wandered around the old well had chosen to hide beneath the houses. Through her window, Nara watched the mist creep between the buildings like water searching for a crack. It was far too thick for autumn, and it moved against the direction of the wind.
As though the entire village were waiting for something.
Or someone.
Nara noticed none of this when she woke to the sound of something falling in the kitchen. She opened her eyes, stared at the wooden ceiling of her bedroom, and let out a long sigh.
“If that’s another rat, I’m moving out.”
A second crash sounded from downstairs.
Nara scrambled out of bed. She snatched the thin coat hanging beside her wardrobe and hurried down the stairs. In the kitchen, a basket lay overturned on the floor. The three eggs that were supposed to be their breakfast had vanished, and the small window beside the sink stood wide open.
“Mira?”
There was no answer.
Nara approached the window. Cold air slipped through the wooden frame, carrying the smell of wet earth and something that made her pause.
Iron.
It was faint, but strong enough to remind her of blood.
Three thin, dark-red streaks marked the windowsill. Nara touched one with her fingertip. The liquid had already dried.
“Mira,” she called again, more quietly this time.
Mira appeared in the doorway carrying an armful of firewood. Her brown hair was tied back carelessly, and the cold had turned her cheeks pink.
“You’re awake?”
“No. I’m sleepwalking.” Nara pointed at the empty basket. “We’ve had an egg thief.”
Mira set the firewood beside the stove and inspected the window. The faint smile that had appeared on her face vanished when she noticed the red stains.
“Don’t touch those again.”
“I already did.”
“Why do you always do things before thinking?”
“Because if I wait for you to think, we might not finish breakfast until tomorrow.”
Usually, Mira would have had a sharp reply ready. This time, however, she stared at the stains with a face drained of color.
“Have you seen marks like these before?” Nara asked.
Mira shook her head too quickly. “No.”
Her answer sounded convincing. Her eyes did not.
Before Nara could question her further, heavy footsteps sounded in the hallway. Orven, Nara’s father, appeared in a rumpled shirt, his expression already dark with irritation.
“What happened?”
“Someone stole our eggs,” Nara said. “And left something that looks suspiciously like blood on the window.”
Orven’s gaze moved to the windowsill.
For a moment, he did not move at all.
Then he crossed the kitchen, shut the window, and drew the curtains.
“Stay away from it.”
Nara folded her arms. “Everyone keeps telling me not to touch things. Perhaps someone could explain why.”
“Because I said so.”
“That isn’t an explanation.”
Orven turned toward her. His eyes were tired, but beneath the exhaustion lay something Nara rarely saw in him.
Fear.
“Not everything needs to be understood, Nara.”
“That’s convenient. Especially when no one wants to tell me anything.”
He looked as though he wanted to answer. Instead, he took a cloth from beside the sink and wiped the red stains from the windowsill. He worked carefully, making certain that not a single mark remained.
Then he threw the cloth into the stove.
Nara watched the flames consume it.
“What was that supposed to accomplish?”
“Forget what you saw.”
“I’m not going to forget a bloody window just because you tell me to.”
Orven’s jaw tightened.
“Then pretend you did.”
He left the kitchen before she could respond.
Nara stared at the doorway, increasingly certain that something was terribly wrong in Vareth. Her father was hiding something. Mira was hiding something. And whatever had left those marks on the windowsill had frightened them both.
She hated secrets.
Especially the kind that seemed to involve her.
Outside, the rain continued to fall.
Nara dressed, pulled on her boots, and fastened her coat. If her father intended to spend the entire morning pretending nothing had happened, she would find someone in the village willing to give her a proper answer.
Before leaving, she glanced once more at the kitchen window.
For a fleeting instant, she thought she saw a pale handprint on the other side of the glass.
Then she blinked.
It was gone.
Nara told herself it was a trick of the light.
She had no idea how often she would repeat those words before the day was over.
