Clara Hinterland's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Clara Hinterland sat in the tree line above the frost-covered square. She wanted to understand the couple below her. The woman clutched a scarf. The man kept his hands in his pockets. Clara watched them the way she watched everyone in EverFrost, hunting for the truth people hid behind polite faces. She believed she could mend broken bonds if she learned what each heart really wanted. So she waited, silent, in her black sandals and worn Victorian coat. The couple argued in low voices. Clara could not hear the words. She pulled out her journal, the one that held the memories she gathered while shape-shifting into other creatures. Its runes glowed faint blue. She pressed her palm to the page and let the change begin. Her fingers thinned. Feathers pushed through her skin. She meant to fly closer as a bird and listen. But the change stalled halfway. Her arm was half feather, half hand. Pain shot up her spine. She had never failed a shift before. She gripped a branch and forced herself back to human shape. The effort left her shaking. Down below, the woman shoved the scarf into the man's chest and walked away. Clara had learned nothing. "You'll fall out of that tree one day." Clara turned. Her brother stood at the base of the trunk. Ignacio wore his leather work vest, brass buckles catching the pale light. His squared glasses had frost on the rims. He led this town, and everyone brought him their troubles. He rarely climbed up here to bring Clara hers. "I was working," Clara said. She climbed down, hiding her trembling hands. Ignacio watched her land. "That couple is the third pair to fight this week. And you're not the only one who's noticed the changes." He tapped his temple. "People forget things. Small things. A name. A promise. My best mechanic couldn't remember his own wife this morning." Clara went still. She thought of her stalled shift, the pain, the half-formed feathers. "Something is wrong with the magic here." "Something is wrong with the people," Ignacio said. "They're pulling apart. I can fix engines, Clara. I can't fix a marriage that's forgetting itself." He looked at her the way he had when they were children and he needed her help. "You see what others miss. I need those eyes now." Clara opened her journal. The pages she'd filled for years suddenly felt thin. She had watched people to understand them. She had never asked why so many bonds were breaking at once. The forgetting and the fighting were the same wound. "I'll need to get closer than a tree," she said. "Closer than watching." Ignacio nodded. "Start with the mechanic. Before he forgets her face for good." Clara closed the journal. Watching was no longer enough. She would have to walk into the heart of the sickness herself.