Leaf and Stone: Wards of the Thicket, #0

By Erik Marshall

In Cold Harbor, fear creeps in from many sources. Acidic rain falls from the sky. Packs of wild dogs haunt the streets. Poverty makes even the strong desperate.

Seven-year-old Kay refuses to let fear claim her. Even while hiding in her bedroom with her little brother. Protecting him from their own father. 

If Kay takes the risk of her life, can she and her brother truly find solace...even in the darkest of places?

"Leaf and Stone" tells the story of one of the best-loved characters from Erik Marshall's dark fantasy suspense novel, Children Without Faces.

(Trigger warning: contains realistic portrayals of domestic abuse.)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tangled Sky Press
• Release date: Jan 29, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386894735

Book preview

Leaf and Stone

Leaf and Stone

A Wards of the Thicket Story

Erik Marshall

Tangled Sky Press

Contents

Leaf and Stone

Also by Erik Marshall

About the Author

Leaf and Stone

The soft creak of the floorboard made Kay flinch. She reached down, pulled the thin moth-eaten blanket up so it touched her chin. A small hand grabbed her arm, and Kay leaned to pull her brother close. His tiny body pressed against her, and they lay together in the darkness. Listening.

Another squeak. Quieter, further away.

Tim exhaled and she could feel him look up at her. Do ya think he's going to bed?

She knew that she ought to look down into his eyes, knew that he wanted a comforting look, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the door. Wasn't much of a door, with the boards broken and splintered to leave cracks as wide as her thumb. The air moved, made the splotchy skin that hung over the small window near the top of the room shiver. The sound of rain hiss-splatting against the roof and walls grew louder, then quieted again.

He'd stepped out.

Good, ‘cause it meant that he wasn't near them no more.

Bad, ‘cause it was rainin’, and the forest-rain would sting his skin and eat at his clothes. It'd happened before. Drunk as he was, he'd not notice right away. When he did, it'd make him mad.

Coldness slithered inside of her and wrapped around her guts.

Kay? Tim whispered again, and this time she managed to look down. His forever-too-long brown hair hung down, nearly concealing his eyes.

Don't matter if he is, she said, unable to bring herself to lie. She fought for a smile and offered it to him, smoothing his hair back. At four years, he looked nothing like their Da; she prayed he never would.

He searched her face, then ducked his head to press against her chin and chest. Are you scared?

Are you kiddin’? she asked with a snort. I’m seven. There ain't nothin' that scares me.

Nothin’?

Nope.

Not even a shadowcat that can eat ya in your bed?

Not even them, she said and forced herself to breath slow. To listen without seeming like she was, so Tim wouldn't spook again.

His voice came again, quieter now, softer than a whisper. Not even Da?

Kay opened her mouth to lie when the outside door slammed. A man screamed — no, howled. Something crashed.

Tim buried his face into her, his small hands gripping her arm and back so hard it hurt.

Something else broke. Footfalls stomped. Closer.

Closer. The board outside their room groaned…

…And silence. Kay's mouth filled with bile. Sweat dripped down her brow, into her eyes, and she tried to make out if there was anything blocking the cracks in her door and she thought that there was and she thought she'd be sick.

Breathing.