The Silver Doe by Audrey Parker (historical books to read txt) 📕

being raised in this miniature farmhouse. Then, her eyes were care-free and forever turned up at the corners. Blue crescents never drooped beneath her eyes and Uncle Joel could easily coax a giggle out of her mouth.
The last time that he had seen her, her eyes were ashes. Fire had caught every dream that she had once wished for and burnt it into unrecognizable bits and pieces that lay useless. The only love that had held in her eyes was for Kaz. Her little boy would bring in firewood or weed the garden and the pride in Olivea’s eyes would shine so bright that it would create crevasses that light would filter through. That never ceased, as she grew older.
Uncle Joel had expected that he would never again see the pair of eyes in front of him until he reached the gates of heaven. But this girl, who is obviously the sister that Kaz had spoken about, did see through Olivea’s eyes
When they had meet at the Willow Grove, on the bank of the creek, his nephew had explained how his sister had come to live with him and though it didn’t take much effort to keep her occupied, Kaz couldn’t handle living around her while he was still grieving the death of his mother. He had asked Uncle Joel to please take her, and look after her while she needed it. But after witnessing how similar she is to his late sister, it had him reconsidering.
Olivea’s daughter finally looked up from her conversation and to the doorway, where Uncle Joel was supported between the doorframe. Her eyes first turned puzzled, then lightened as she reconized and older version of her brother. By then her friend had also twisted to see Uncle Joel.
His niece rose and took two steps towards him while her friend watched with wide eyes.
“I am your Uncle Joel, your mother’s brother,” he says. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, Sariah.”
“My friends call me Sari. And this is Clara,” she answers, gesturing to the girl with the long hair. “Did my brother send you?”
“Yes. We better talk,” Uncle Joel sighs.


19,

In the weary morning light, the doe’s injuries seemed worse than they truthfully were. But as the doe’s age wasn’t youthful, he had reason for concern.
The gap in her leg was tiny, only a small one from a thorn bush, though a steady stream of blood flowed freely over her calf. A rose thorn protruded from the gash.
The Silver Doe stumbled and fell to the forest floor. She was at the base of a pine tree, one in a grove full of them. The needles provided a cushion for her to rest on, though the ends of them were sharp as daggers.
Across from the grove, a small farmhouse lay in a clearing. It was weathered a pleasant brown and the doe had to squint to tell the difference between it and the woods surrounding it.
The doe closed her eyes, and inhaled in a deep breath. The air was scented with pine, freshly turned-over dirt and, faintly, of poppies and honeysuckle. Birds chirped overhead and the doe savored the sweet, harmonic notes.


20,

Caroline laced her fingers throughout the seamless billows of cloud and breathed deeply. The air was lukewarm, and carried no other particles, like pollen. That was one detail of her old life that Caroline was eager to forget. Her nose and throat used to clog each spring because of allergies and it had made outside tough for her to endure.
Caroline stretched out on her back. The down beneath her expanded and did not confine her wings, though her head was not supported while she was in that position. She attempted to push herself up using her elbow and found that the fleecy cloud was grasping her with an iron grip. It was like tree sap; it latched on and had thrown away the key. When she stirred both of her arms, they were stuck where she had first placed them.
Now that her attention was on her arms, and her legs once she tried them, she noticed that the bits of the cloud that her skin was touching were glowing a faint light, like the radiance of the full moon. It was steadily growing stronger and more confident with each pulse. Though Caroline knew she had the right to be terrified by what was taking place, she thoughts were strangely serene and her heartbeat kept its regular rhythm.
When she began to sink into the cloud, it felt like a string was fastened around her midsection and was being reeled in like it was attached to a fishing pole. It wasn’t painful to Caroline; it didn’t even tickle.
Caroline sunk through the cushions and the string never seemed to release its hold on her. Neither did the clouds on either side of her, but as she traveled through them the luminosity grew stronger until her vision was nearly blinded by the light. Her hair bunched up around her ears and attacked her mouth because of the clouds pushing it upwards.
Carolines thoughts were still calm, and strangley, she caught herself thinking of how nice it would be to escape from her palace in the clouds. She loved the view, and the freedom of wind enlightening her to sights and judgments that she would have never noticed on her own. But Caroline felt trapped here, like this place, that was a paradise at first glance, was a prison specially created for her. And now that she was finally out, Caroline secretly rejoiced.
And then the string loosened as the clouds swallowed her whole.


21,

The door to the farmhouse creaked open on unsure hinges and a slender girl with long mouse-brown hair exits. She treads over to where the doe is hidden, and gasps when she finally spots her. Though her gasp could have been because of the silver of her pelt, or the intensity of her eyes, the doe understood that the girl had seen the rose thorn lodged in her calf. She darted back into the house to call for help.
Another, more petite, girl with caramel locks and a ragged man with a gray-streaked scalp leave the farmhouse and hurry over to the doe. The girls arrive to her first, and are clearly aware of the does trusting personality. They could also see it in her eyes.
The older man comes next to the silver doe and crouches down next to her. Then he turns to the brunnett girl and sends her for bandages.
He gently looks into the doe’s eyes, willing her to trust him. The doe didn’t need to be convinced though. She understood that his intent was to heal, not harm her.
The first girl returned with bandages and handed them to the man. The other girl, the one that had followed him out of the farmhouse, inched closer until she was next to him, as before she was a few feet away.
She knelt down near the does head and said to the man. “I can keep her calm while you take the thorn out.”
The man retreated to the doe’s hind leg, where the injury was and set to work. The low throb that the doe had felt before was replaced with an increasing speed, and she sucked in a breath and whimpered, like a human would. The girl must have seen the pain in her eyes because she reached for the doe and the doe focused her eyes on the girl in front of her as a distraction.
“Look at me,” the girl kept murmuring. “Look at me.”


22,

The room that Caroline had appeared in was spacious, and contained only white walls, a white ceiling and marbled tileing for the floor. No furniture was present for her to sit on, but that was fine, as she no longer got tired when she was standing up.
The clouds had rested her gentely in this room a few hours ago, and at first glance Caroline had thought herself still suspended in the cloud. Though Caroline had already been in the room for a little over two hours, she was growing increasingly bored. Back in the clouds she had the hills and valleys to gaze down upon, but here there was only white with not even slight variation in the color. It all was beginning to blend together like a blizzard mixes snow and harsh winter air.
Caroline’s chocolate brown eyes began to drift shut; not because she was tired, but out of the weariness of having nothing to do.
Then an invisible door swung open from the outside. The door was full-sized, white and unfolded smoothly from the wall around it, which was why Caroline’s sharp eyes hadn’t noticed it before. Or it just could have not been there before.
The door glided open all the way so that the nonexistent doorknob was brushing the wall behind it. A long corridor lead from the doorway down about thirty yards and then turned left. No one was in Caroline’s sight.
She tried to suppress it, but her curiousity got the best of her. She stood upright and began to creep slowly down the hallway. Her feet, which were barefoot when she was in the clouds but clad in smokey ballat flat now, were soundless against the tiles.


23,

Kaz’s eyes readjusted to the sudden darkness. His wrists and ankles were both bound with sturdy rope and his mouth was gagged with an old rag. His eyes used to be concealed with a blindfold, which had just been removed by his captor.
He stood intimidatingly over Kaz and glared down from his full height. Kaz could see that he had dark eyes and dense eyebrows. His nondescript brown hair ran wild and swung down on his forehead. The skin on his face was black and white; drawn with the hollow curves and gouges that were company to little sleep. A gash like a lightning bolt ran from his left temple and over both of his lips and down his jaw, where it disappeared down his shirt. His lips pressed into a jeering sneer.
“Remember me, Kaz?”
The man’s voice spoke expectantly and surprised Kaz. He had been expecting more actions than words, and certainly not these ones. And the voice itself was recognizable to Kaz. It wasn’t one that he had heard often, but the few times that they had spoken were very memorable to him because of what they had spoken of. But now that the one thing that they had in common is gone, Kaz hadn’t been counting on seeing this man ever again.
The man leered even closer to Kaz, until they were eye level from each other.
“Spare me, Kaz. You know who I am.” He whispered.
He was right. Kaz knew who he was, however he was afraid to admit it to him because of what might be coming next. But he could feel his guard bursting outward and understood that there was nothing he could do to stop it. It was like attempting to keep a bubble caged. You couldn’t jail it and keep it whole. If it brushed against an iron bar it would pop into pieces. If you let it roam free it would eventually float down to the ground, where it would then break its iridescent spear. There’s just no way to win.
Kaz cowered against the floor in terror.


24,

White. There was white everywhere. Different shades, but always the same color. The only thing that varied were the shadows that crept up like gremlins. Caroline could sense them spying on her, watching what she would do next and daring her to turn the wrong way.