Prologue
Over the Hills and Far Away
"Lark, don't go wanderin' off now, daydreamin' the day away," Lark heard her mother hollaring after her as the long, wiry grass beat against her willowy legs. "We've got things to do, ya hear and for goodness sakes, don't let your brother wander off and get bit by somethin'. I don't have the time nor the energy to carry his behind all the way down to Clover to see Dr. Wertz!" Her mother's voice wavered over the wind. Lark, only fourteen then, should have sensed that something was the matter- but at that time, her only thought was the great silver pool of water that was just behind the large oak trees and the way the water would feel on her skin that seemed to be lit afire in the early July sun.
Her pale skin shimmered like polished silver in the rays of light. Her voice was soft and light in the summer air, humming the old hymn that her mother often sang while washing dishes. She twirled amongst the buttercups and daffodils, her long mane of coal black hair swirling with the movements of her long limbs. She laughed at her own silliness, her long, onyx lashes fluttering against the dusting of freckles on her pale cheeks.
"Lark! Where are you? You're missin' all the fun!" She heard her younger brother Luke yelling from behind the large, brown tree trunks. His hair was a white, blonde. The kind of blonde that you rarely saw on anyone passed the age of seven. He was six years lucky and still going strong, not a strand of wheat or gold peeking through. Luke had the same pale blue eyes as she did, but with his coloring, it wasn't as shocking or bewitching.
"Just let me finish this so-," She began trailing off as a high-pitched scream cut through the air like a razor. Her eyes, which had been halfway, closed, now bulged and darted around prolonging what she already knew.
"Momma!" Luke cried, his thirteen-year-old body immediately taking off towards the cabin.
It didn't take thought to command her own legs to pump after her younger brother's. Terrible thoughts raced in her mind, none of which could possibly be as horrifying as the scene she would find.
Luke ran up the steps of the patio, his flat feet smacking the old wooden floorboards as he yanked open the screen door and flew in. "Mom?" He called out as Lark followed him into the house, her eyes darting around.
"Momma?" She echoed, her feet shuffling towards the hallway as she checked each room. "Mom? Where are you? Mom!" She moaned as two warm teardrops fell down her cheek. She could hear her brother's own failed attempts at summoning their mother, but it was no use. There was no sign of struggle. There was no sign that she had left. There was no sign of anything.
The only thing that either child had in their life was gone. Without a trace.