Sage Ashwood's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Sage Ashwood wanted a place where hybrids like her could gather without fear, but she did not own a single foot of Ragnabog's soil. She stood at the edge of the town square, her rabbit ears flat against her back, and watched a hybrid boy get chased off the well steps. He had scales down his arms. Two guards shoved him into the dirt. Sage's long legs tensed to run to him, but she stopped. If she made a scene, she would lose her chance today. She had come for one reason. The town council was auctioning a scrap of land near the old wall. Nobody wanted it. The soil was thin and rocks poked through the weeds. To Sage it looked like the first safe patch she could offer her people. She crossed the square and raised her hand at the auction post. "I'll take it," she said. "All of it." She emptied her coin pouch on the table. It was every coin she had saved sweeping floors for three winters. The clerk counted the coins twice. Then he pushed a paper toward her and made her press her thumb to the ink. "Signed and sealed," he said. "The plot by the wall is yours." Sage held the deed against her chest. For the first time, hybrids had a corner of Ragnabog to call their own. She thought of the boy with the scales. She thought of every outcast hiding in the marsh. Now she could invite them onto ground no one could take. A graceful hybrid stepped out of the crowd toward her. She was rabbit-born like Sage, with long ears and powerful legs, but she moved like someone used to being obeyed. She was the council's chosen speaker for hybrid affairs, and Sage had heard her name whispered with both hope and warning. Luna Hareborn. "You bought the plot by the wall," Luna said. She did not smile. "You should read what you signed." Sage looked down at the deed. Below her thumbprint, small letters spelled a clause she had skipped. Any hybrid who gathered others on private land without a council pass would face the stocks. Luna nodded toward the far end of the square. A heavy wooden restraint stood there. Its weathered boards held two hand-holes and cold iron pins. Fresh scratches marked where the last prisoner had struggled. "The land is yours," Luna said. "But the moment you welcome anyone onto it, the council can lock you in those." Sage's grip tightened on the paper. She had wanted safe ground. Now she owned a trap. To use her land as she dreamed, she needed a council pass, and Luna was the one who granted them. "Then help me get a pass," Sage said. Luna studied her for a long moment. "Passes cost more than coins," she said. Then she turned and walked away, leaving Sage alone with her deed and the stocks in plain view.