Tide | Tide Book One (Free Sample)

One

Two of the horses met us at the edge of their field, the snow-white mare our mother had loved and Tobin's powerful bay. Inka nudged me, the sun catching on her pale coat and flashing mane, turning her into a glittering island in a green sea. I complied and fished a piece of apple from my pocket for her, much to Tobin's amusement.

"You spoil that horse," he said, shaking his head as we continued to the house.

"Mama wanted her to be spoiled."

We climbed the two short steps to the door. I paused to give the old tomcat lounging on the porch a scratch behind the ears. Kotar, as I'd called him after the one-eyed warrior of lore, wasn't much use in driving pests away anymore, but I'd talked our father into letting me feed him scraps. He closed his one yellow eye with a hoarse purr.

I dropped the hares onto the table inside, and Tobin set the bow down beside them, turning to retrieve a knife. "I'll clean them. You go on to the market."

"Are you sure?" But I lifted the basket our father had left for us, swinging it from hand to hand as I waited for his answer. I knew he would urge me to go on before him. Anything to allow me to meet Edrick Catessar without a chaperone—as much as he would deny it. My brother had never been as stealthy a matchmaker as he was a hunter.

"I'll meet you there."

"Alright." I checked through the basket—fruits, a few flasks of milk, cheese wrapped in a thin cloth, and two extra hares' pelts to barter with—slipped the pouch of coin into my pocket, and pecked Tobin on the cheek before I turned away. "Don't miss the storytelling."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

I let the door swing closed behind me and started down the winding dirt path that led to the village. Our farm sat on the outskirts, deeper into the loose woods than the scattering of houses most lived in, but though the walk was long, it was familiar. Fields and trees lined the path, sunlight and shadow dappling the ground as I passed. When I broke from the trees, I could hear the soft roar of the waves and see the sea stretching beyond. Each white crest shone like diamonds before shattering on the beach, and the water ran to the horizon, one striking blue meeting another.

Once, I would have dreamed of seeking out where that line led, what was beyond it.

Now I was content with my feet on dry land.

I let out a long breath when the first houses of the village came along, the path veering from the water. I returned the few greetings I got as I wound my way to the market; a handful of people working in their gardens or walking the same path. It was a small village and I knew every face, if only by name. My family had settled on our land four generations ago, long enough for our history beyond that to be meaningless. Long enough for us to simply be the farmers that lived in the woods. I was alright with that.

"How is your father, Hania?" a woman who often bought our crops asked as we fell into step beside one another. The smith's wife.

"He's well." I brushed a bit of dirt left behind from my hunt with Tobin off my skirt. "He's hard at work today, of course."

"Will he be joining the storytelling this afternoon?"

"No, I don't think so. Maybe next week."

"Well, tell him I'm eager to have him return."

"I will." I bid her goodbye as our paths split and continued into the busier parts of the market. While anybody could sell their wares or make a trade any day, once a week—the day of the storytelling—the center circle of the village bustled with goods changing hands. Once in a while a traveling merchant appeared, but for the most part it was the same every week, though I didn't mind it. It made buying whatever food and supplies my family needed for the week easier. I knew what was there and how much it would cost us. When our true harvest came in, Tobin and I would be among those selling, but for now I was happy with the freedom to shop.