Being Ace, page 30
Gasping, I cradle my wounded hand, watching blood ooze down my fingers and pool in my palm. This is the second part of the trade for those who wish to study violin with a fossegrim.
“I told you,” I yelp, “I didn’t come for the fiddle!”
“Use my gift however you see fit. But my departure must be earned.” He reclines on the rock, tucking his violin beneath his chin and coaxing a melody from its strings that raises the hair on my neck.
Still clutching my hand, I stare from the blood to my cradle loom. It’s all I have with me. If I weave now, I’ll stain that undyed wool. Maybe a bloody band is what this creature deserves. Maybe it isn’t his hair, but my own blood, that’s the price of binding him.
I’d give it all to end Rúna’s killer.
But when I take up the shuttle again, and pass it through the warp, my blood doesn’t leave the threads red. No, it’s blue, spreading down the spun wool. Then green. Yellow. Brown.
Deep inside me, a song begs to be released. So as Rúna and I did on so many winter evenings, I part my lips and put melody to the words.
The tune is all too familiar: Rúna’s witch song to the Allfather. But the words this time are different, of two young women who loved, then lost, because life and the people in it can be heartless. I sing of two young women who themselves were taken from the earth too soon. In their absence, they left emptiness so all-consuming that those who loved them were cut to the core.
As I sing, I keep weaving, hands and arms moving in time to the witch-tune. My blood stains the yarn beneath my fingers, dyeing it a tapestry of colors until the band illustrates the lives of which I sing. Soon, it’s plenty long enough for binding, but I keep weaving, keep singing, paying tribute to our lost.
The fossegrim no longer plays his violin, but slouches opposite me on the rock. Droplets cling to his cheeks. Lake water that hasn’t dried yet? Or … tears?
By the time my shuttle runs out of wool, light returns to the sky on the eastern horizon. My voice cracks and grates, my back aches from hunching over this loom, and my fingers have gone numb. I don’t think I can safely spill more blood.
So I cut the finished band from the loom, then hold it up like a banner.
The fossegrim considers it, then me, lifting an eyebrow in question.
“What those people did to your love,” I rasp, “is inexcusable. But so is what you did to other families.”
The fossegrim meets my gaze without flinching. “This world is merciless. Maybe I was doing a service, passing that lesson along.”
“Det er dritt!” I curse at the fossegrim. When he snarls, I add, “Would you have accepted it, if the one who killed your love gave the same excuse?”
He glares with murder in his amber eyes. All the same, he winces at my words.
“You can’t give back the lives you’ve stolen,” I continue, “but you can stop spreading pain. Hurting others will never heal you.” I kneel before the fossegrim, and instead of binding that band around his wrists—so he could never play violin again—or even his neck, I wrap it around his chest like a bandage, directly over his heart.
“Give yourself the peace no one else can,” I say. “And leave others to theirs.”
He stares from that band, stained with the lives of murdered girls, to me. “This does nothing for my grief.”
“But you’ll find your way through it if you give yourself the chance. Choose life, instead of loss.” I pick up his violin, and—though I’m tempted to smash it against the rock—I place it in his hands.
The fossegrim plucks the thinnest of the four strings, sending a piercing note into the air. Cradles the instrument to his chest like a baby. Sighs once, long, deep.
Then he’s gone, him and that violin dissolving into water. Like a bucket overturned, the water splashes down the rock and into the pond, mixing with the current from the falls.
I linger there, on the edge of the cove, until the sun climbs above the treetops and white-throated dippers sing their morning greetings to the sky. There are no more signs of the fossegrim or his alluring songs. Whether he’s gone for good, I can’t say.
But the ache in my own heart doesn’t gnaw so deep.
Still, Rúna is the reason I came all this way, and I don’t want to head back without a word to her. I don’t have it in me to weave another band—a fitting tribute for her, who first taught me to make them. But I find a patch of windflowers, one of Rúna’s favorites, each with seven pristine white petals. After gathering them into a small bouquet, I hold them over the Festa River.
“Wherever you are”—I tip my face toward the sky, the woods, the water—“I hope you’ve found Pétr again. I will remember you always, Rúna. Thank you for teaching me the ancient songs. You’ll live on in each.”
I drop the windflowers into the water. Watch their white petals bob with the current, until the river carries them beyond my sight.
The next day, when the sky is barely beginning to blush with the dawn, I meet Halldor at his cabin. The place would be quite unremarkable—its logs so dulled with age it almost blends into the shadows—were it not for the rosmåling designs Halldor has painted across the entire door. Blossoms, leaves, and vines adorn the wood, along with sweeping, curling brushstrokes in vivid blues, reds, and greens.
Halldor is already outside, a wool hat over his flaming hair and a travel bag on his back. “You really won’t come to Bergen?” he says, and doesn’t try to hide the tremble in his voice.
The smile I give him is genuine. “I think these woods need me here. The fossegrim won’t be the only trouble that haunts them, and who else will be able to deal with such dangers?”
“You don’t owe these people anything.”
“I’m not doing it for them. You have your purpose. I think I’ve finally found mine.”
Halldor doesn’t nod. Doesn’t return my smile. His hands clench the straps of his bag, and I see them shift, as though to pull it off his shoulders.
I place my hands over his, holding the sack in place. “Go to Bergen. Become a famous artist. I will visit you there, I promise. I expect to see a gallery of your work when I arrive.”
The battle in Halldor’s eyes doesn’t fade completely, but he exhales a shuddering breath. “I love you, Birga.”
“Love you, too.” I hug him, then push him toward the road.
We each take the next steps into our lives, fueled by the love that can carry us wherever we must go.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Lara Ameen
Lara Ameen is a screenwriter, novelist, short fiction writer, sensitivity/authenticity reader, and holds a PhD in Education with an emphasis in Disability Studies from Chapman University. She received an MFA in Screenwriting from California State University, Northridge. Her YA Contemporary Fantasy novel was awarded a disabled writers’ grant from Suffering the Silence, and longlisted in Voyage YA’s First Chapters Contest. Her short fiction has been published in Prismatica Magazine, Disabled Voices Anthology, Flash Fiction Magazine, Drunk Monkeys, just femme & dandy, and elsewhere. When not writing, she can be found reading from a never-ending pile of books, drinking boba, or hanging out with her dogs, Bailey and Lizzy.
S. E. Anderson
S. E. Anderson, PhD, is the author of the YA science fiction humor series The Starstruck Saga and Over The Moon, as well as a YA contemporary novel, Aix Marks The Spot, based on her childhood in Provence. Currently, she’s trying to wrangle some comets from the astrophysics laboratory of Marseille, France. Come say hello at www.seandersonauthor.com.
Akemi Dawn Bowman
Akemi Dawn Bowman is a critically-acclaimed author who writes across genres. Her novels include William C. Morris Award Finalist Starfish, The Infinity Courts series, Summer Bird Blue, Harley in the Sky, Generation Misfits, and Where the Lost Ones Go. She has written short fiction for Magic: The Gathering, and has contributed to several upcoming anthologies. She has a BA in social sciences from the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, and currently lives in Scotland with her family. She overthinks everything, including this bio.
Jas Brown
Jas Brown wears many hats. In addition to being an aroace, non-binary author, they’re also a TTRPG player, server, and kdrama enthusiast. They hail from the Pacific Northwest of the US, but plan to travel all over in search of themselves (and good food). They have several previous publications, most notably in the anthology A Pizza My Heart (Pizzathology 1), edited by Jolene Haley. When they’re not writing or playing Dungeons & Dragons, they’re singing, drawing, and listening to BTS.
Cody Daigle-Orians
Cody Daigle-Orians is an asexuality educator and writer. He is the creator of “Ace Dad Advice,” a social media-based ace education project that creates empowering content for young ace and questioning people, and he is the author of the book I Am Ace: Advice on Living Your Best Asexual Life. He is currently working on his second book, a YA guide to ace and aro relationships. Cody lives in Columbus, Ohio.
Madeline Dyer
Madeline Dyer is a novelist, poet, and anthologist. She is the author of the SIBA award-winning Untamed series and the Dangerous Ones trilogy, as well as the Aces in Love series (written as Elin Annalise) and the Roseheart Ballet Academy series (written as Elin Dyer). She is the editor of the Being Ace anthology and co-editor of the Unbound anthology, which was a Suspense Magazine “Best Of” 2021 pick and was named a Foreword INDIES 2021 finalist. Madeline has a herd of Shetland ponies, loves anything ghostly, and can frequently be found exploring wild places. At least one notebook is known to follow her everywhere she goes.
K. Hart
K. Hart is a volunteer with addiction recovery services by day, writer of the weird and wonderful by night. They live in the UK and spend their time devouring every fantasy novel they can get their hands on. They have an absurd taste in clothes and they don’t know how to internet properly. They can be found shouting into the void at @FlorianKHart on Twitter.
Moniza Hossain
Moniza Hossain is a Singaporean author of Bengali descent who writes books full of magic and wonder for children. When she’s not busy writing, she teaches English literature and paints dragons. She lives in Singapore with her family.
Anju Imura
Anju Imura (井邑杏樹) is a Japanese-Italian writer born in Frankfurt, Germany, raised in London, and then raised in Frankfurt again, where they currently reside. When not ambitiously reworking East Asian history into fiction, they brew bitter green tea while musing about the creative process and picking apart the imagination of Hayao Miyazaki. Ever the hermit crab, you might catch them lurking on Twitter (@ImuraAnju) from time to time.
Linsey Miller
Once upon a time, Linsey Miller studied biology in Arkansas. These days, she holds an MFA in fiction and can be found writing about science and magic anywhere there is coffee. She is the author of the Mask of Shadows duology, Belle Révolte, The Game, What We Devour, and the first two books in the Disney Princes series, Prince of Song & Sea and Prince of Thorns & Nightmares. Visit her at linseymiller.com.
RoAnna Sylver
RoAnna Sylver is the author of the Chameleon Moon and the Stake Sauce series, as well as interactive fiction like Dawnfall and The Great Batsby—and passionate about stories that give hope, healing and even fun for LGBQTIA+, disabled and other marginalized people, and thinks we need a lot more. RoAnna is a member of the SFWA as well as a founding member of Kraken Collective Books, and highly recommends you check them out.
S. J. Taylor
Although S. J. Taylor grew up in Arizona’s desert, her heart yearns for Scandinavian forests and winters. Now, she creates stories steeped in Nordic folklore and magic, where young protagonists tackle big adventures and bigger questions. When she’s not writing, she can often be found knitting yet another sweater (sweater weather is the best weather).
Rosiee Thor
Rosiee Thor began her career as a storyteller by demanding to tell her mother bedtime stories instead of the other way around. She spent her childhood reading by flashlight in the closet until she came out as queer. She lives in Oregon with a dog, two cats, and an abundance of plants. She is the author of Tarnished Are The Stars, Fire Becomes Her, Life is Strange: Steph’s Story, and The Meaning of Pride.
Emily Victoria
Emily Victoria is a Canadian prairie girl who writes young adult science fiction and fantasy. When not word-smithing, she likes walking her over-excitable dog, drinking far too much tea, and crocheting things she no longer has the space to store. She works at a library where she takes home far too many books.
Kat Yuen
Kat “Void” Yuen (阮掭艺) is a Chinese-American prose writer and asexualities theorist with a penchant for character-driven fantasy and D/death. He has published fiction, poetry, and non-fiction, with her writing often centering on the interpersonal lives of queer Asian Americans. Void currently resides in San Diego, where she splits his time between volunteer work and overthinking syntax. You can find Kat on Twitter at @voidyuen, where he follows the development of human composting in California with morbid excitement.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Content Warning
Introduction
by Cody Daigle-Orians
How to Love a Sidewinder
by Kat Yuen
Across the Stars
by Akemi Dawn Bowman
Well Suited
by Rosiee Thor
Nylon Bed Socks
by Madeline Dyer
Give up the Ghost
by Linsey Miller
No Such Thing as Just
by K. Hart
Smells Like Teen Virgin
by S. E. Anderson
Sealights
by Emily Victoria
Moonspirited
by Anju Imura
The Third Star
by RoAnna Sylver
The Mermaid’s Sister
by Moniza Hossain
The Hazards of Pressing Play
by Lara Ameen
No Cure for Doubt
by Jas Brown
The Witch of Festa Falls
by S. J. Taylor
About the authors
Copyright
Copyright © 2023 Linsey Miller, Rosiee Thor, Moniza Hossain, Akemi Dawn Bowman, Emily Victoria, S. J. Taylor, RoAnna Sylver, Kat Yuen, K. Hart, Jas Brown, S. E. Anderson, Anju Imura, Lara Ameen, Madeline Dyer with introduction by Cody Daigle-Orians
First published in 2023 by
Page Street Publishing Co.
27 Congress Street, Suite 1511
Salem, MA 01970
www.pagestreetpublishing.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.
eISBN 978-1-64567-784-0
Our eBooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension. 5442, or by e-mail at MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2022952439
Cover design by Rosie Stewart for Page Street Publishing Co.
Cover illustration © Sam Prentice
Linsey Miller, Being Ace
