Cursed by Rebecca Trynes

to do. Without his sister to help him now, how was he going to make it out of the wagon without his family seeing him? Neither one of them had actually thought that far, but he refused to think about failing this attempt. He would simply have to work something out when the time came.
    Neither of his companions spoke during the trip, so he had no idea who he was travelling with and the uncertainty had his breath coming in quick pants of fear that it could be his father. If it was, he was almost certain that he would be put under lock and key were he discovered. Katarina would never be allowed to visit him alone ever again, for it wouldn’t take much deduction to associate her with the escape.
    If it was not his father in the wagon, then it would be his mother and most likely one of his brothers. What would they do if they discovered him? His mother only visited him rarely, as the sight of him seemed to cause her great distress, so he did not know how she would react. If it were one of his brothers accompanying her, he assumed they would react as his father would want them to.
    If they did not notice his presence, would they leave the wagon unguarded whilst they traded with the humans?
    The wagon seemed to move along at a snail’s pace. When it slowed even more, he became aware of a slight murmur, like many people talking all at once. He didn’t dare peek out of the cloth for fear he would be seen, but his ears strained to catch every sound. Scent was masked because of the musty reek of the cloth and he wished fervently that he could smell the fresh air, the scent of dew on the grass, anything that would confirm that he was indeed outside. Free.
    As the wagon drew closer to the village, he realised that he must have been asleep for more than an hour as that was how long Katarina had told him the trip would take. The murmuring sound grew louder and he was able to make out snatches of conversation as they passed by some villagers. Cows mooed, sheep baaed and chickens clucked. It was music to his neglected ears.
    Finally, the wagon drew to a halt and he heard a male voice say, “I shall be quick.”
    “Do not hasten thyself, dear Patrick,” his mother replied, “for I will be viewing the wares of the weaver and may take quite some time.”
    He heard his brother sigh in resignation and then their footsteps departed.
    He lay there for a long moment, hardly daring to breathe. Were they really gone or was it a trick? Would they not just pull back the cloth to reveal his deception? Surely they would. With a surge of courage, he pushed back the cloth and looked around, eyes wide.
    The village was teeming with life. Many a human male and female were trading goods with each other, talking and laughing, looking as if they hadn’t a care in the world. It was his first glimpse of human life and it left him envious. Especially as he spied a group of young children flitting about chasing each other, cheeks rosy and grins on their faces. What he wouldn’t have given to be that carefree, filled with energy, robust with healthy vigour.
    Looking down, he took in his wasted limbs, so thin that the bones were clearly visible beneath the thin layer of translucently pale skin. What wretched misery. He must have done something truly terrible in a past life, if there were such a thing, to deserve the existence he had been given. Surely Fate was not so cruel as to bestow this kind of tragedy upon someone for no reason.
    Feeling the weight of despair descend upon him, he shook himself quickly and forced his eyes from the sight of his withered body before he became lost in his own depression.
    Moving towards the end of the wagon was a monumental struggle. Simply pushing the cloth away enough so that he could move without becoming entangled was half the effort, but finally, he reached the only part of the structure that wasn’t a raised wall. With a deep breath and a shot of courage, he rolled off the back of the wagon.
    He barely felt the