I turned my eyes from the battlefield, too sick to watch. The flap was still open to the tent we’d just left and, desperate for a distraction, my eyes found the discarded gerani cluttering the dirt floor. Casting a look of longing at the fruit, my stomach growled goodbye.
Jenen chose an escape route and sprinted into the smoke, Menen and his cargo (us) at his heels. I glanced at Crenen hanging down the other side of Menen's back. His eyes watched everything around us as we raced for the forest, his expression too complicated to guess what he was thinking.
We ran through the night. By the time Menen let me down, my stomach had bruises as purple as gerani.
He’d been gentler with Crenen, for obvious reasons, but you wouldn't know it the way Crenen complained the whole time his cousin lowered him onto the grass. As soon as Crenen was free of Menen's grip, he raised his claws and slashed at Menen's cheek with a sharp hiss, just missing flesh.
“Disobey order again and we kill.”
“Yes, Master.” Menen bowed his head.
I glanced around and spotted Jenen sitting on a fallen tree, his arms folded, his eyes dancing with shadows. I considered taking a seat beside him and prying for information about the Seer but thought better of it.
Crenen's voice brought me back to him. “How come we have to sleep when Strange Coward Boy still up?”
“Go to sleep,” Menen whispered to me before turning back to Crenen. “Better?”
Crenen growled.
I had no argument. I was just grateful for the chance to get the rest I'd been wanting so much. I searched in the gloom for something to prop myself against, but finally gave up and looked instead for the softest bit of grass. I finally found it and, flopping down, fell toward sleep.
I dreamed.
At least, I hoped it was a dream. Chances were it was another world I’d stumbled into, where I would discover more evil, sharp-toothed monstrosities lurking in wait to chomp on my hand and bend me to their will as they pulled my mind apart in my struggle to comprehend my outrageous situation. And I wasn't thinking of Small Red Fuzzies.
I stood in a dark field shrouded in oppressive blue mist, unable to see more than five feet in any direction. My eyes stung from straining to see through the aerosol vapor, and moisture clung to my hair and dripped to the ground. It was dark and muggy; bitter cold. I shivered, my jacket doing little good against the biting wind that churned the mist in a bizarre dance.
It seemed too real to be a dream. It was too dang cold.
I wondered what to do as I hugged myself. Move, I decided. It would be warmer. I walked, mist churning at my feet and wisping through my hair. Chances were, with my increasing bad luck (it had always been horrible, but never like this), I would never find an end—or, if I did, there would only be grinning, pointed teeth ready to gnash me to tiny bits until I resembled a mutilated gerani.
I kept going. Perhaps in this misty expanse I could find a puddle that would take me home. Mist creates puddles, right?
I lost track of time as I searched in vain for an exit. Forever had come and gone since I found myself in the vast emptiness. Or had it been a few seconds? This place felt as though time had little to do with it; as though the mist would haunt the plains forever, yet at any second it would disperse to reveal something wonderful—like maybe sunlight.
Despair seized me like a hand squeezing my lungs. Would I remain alone in this gloomy place, shivering with cold and fear, unable to find shelter or food? My stomach growled, but I had nothing to eat, and the ground beneath me was frozen solid, devoid of any life.
The air grew thick. Mist shifted and slithered like strange creatures at my ankles. I spun on my heels to run, only to see mist; mist everywhere. It was like death, heavy and bitter and dark. I was trapped, unable to escape as it choked me. I wanted to scream.
Falling to my knees, I bit my lip and tried to reason with myself. “C’mon now, Key, think. This isn’t the end. Some stupid blue mist can’t kill you just by being there. It's pretty much nothingness, right? You can't be afraid of nothing...” Never mind that the vapor was, in actuality, something.
“A very wise conclusion,” a clear voice said.
I jumped to my feet and whipped around. My jaw dropped as I laid eyes on her for the first time. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life. Long, flowing golden hair framed an angelic face and rose-pink eyes deterred the mist around her. She was a young woman, probably only a few years my senior, and she was taller than I am (which wasn't too hard). She was slender and graceful—perfect in every possible way as she stood before me, sweeping white gown trailing behind her.
Only after I memorized her by heart did I remember she’d spoken. “Pardon?” I asked.
She smiled warmly and raised her hand. “Not only wise, but very careful.”
Careful? I decided to ask. “Uh, how?”
She laughed like a tinkling fountain. “You think before you speak, dear friend.” She curtsied and offered her flawless hand again. “Come. I will give you leave of the misty plains.”
I took her hand and the mist curled away, taking the darkness with it. Brilliant golden light filled my vision. I stumbled forward and closed my eyes, teeth clenching as I sucked in air.
“Are you all right?” the woman asked as she cupped her smooth hands over my face. When she took them away, I could see perfectly, a subtle ache the only sign I’d nearly been blinded. “I'm so sorry,” she whispered. “I forgot to adjust your eyes.”
I might’ve responded but I was too busy gawking at the place before me. Everything was made of gold, yet it flowed as smoothly as if it were a real valley. Golden water gurgled in its gold-bedded stream, and gold-flecked leaves danced on their golden branches. The mountains surrounding the valley were dark shades of gold, capped by gold-colored snow while gold-hued clouds floated across a white-gold sky. It was breathtaking.
“Welcome to the Golden Valley, Key,” the woman said.
Appropriately named—a little obvious though.
I turned my attention back to the woman, surprised that she knew my name. “And you are?”
“Oh.” She raised a hand to her pink lips and laughed. “I am so sorry, once again. My name is Veija.” She curtsied. “It is an honor to meet you, Key.”
“And why is that?”
“Because you are Vendaeva.”
Yeah, that. I figured as much. “And why are we in the Gold Valley?”
“Golden.”
“Right. Whatever. You gonna answer my question?” I didn't mean to sound short-tempered, but I was tired from walking for who-knew-how-long and, while this might have been a dream, it felt as though I hadn't slept in days.
“Oh, of course.” She was a little absentminded, I decided. “I wanted to meet you and so I brought you here.”
I decided to take a wild guess. “And I had to enter the misty plains before you could take me here, to this little golden world of yours?”
She blinked. “How did you know? You’re most perceptive.”
I might've slapped my forehead, but that would have been bad manners, and my mother trained me better than that.
—Okay, that’s a lie. I did slap my forehead, mother or no mother.
“Mosquito?” Veija asked.
I refrained from slapping my forehead again. “Uh, yeah.”
“Oh dear. I didn’t know we had any of those in here.” She glanced around, hair rippling down one shoulder. “I’ll have to get them exterminated. I’m sorry it disturbed you.”
Okay, so her naïvety and concern were kind of cute.
“It’s fine,” I assured her, putting my best fake smile on. She fell for it.
“Wonderful.” She beamed, her pretty face radiant. “As I was saying, I...” She trailed off and frowned.
“What?” I asked.
“I forgot what I was saying,” she said with a giggle.
I stifled a sigh. “That’s okay. Did you have an important reason for bringing me here, or can you take me back
?”
“Yes.” She smiled like a sunbeam.
Yes, to which part? “Okay...”
“I want you to see something, but we’re nearly out of time.”
Gee. I wondered whose fault that was.
Veija turned toward a tall, golden tree hovering over the gurgling stream. She waved her hand before her. “You must understand.” The tree wavered and then disappeared, replaced by the blue mist, though it kept the same shape as its predecessor. “This is a sickness.”
Gah! And I’d breathed it in. I stepped back, heart failing, wondering how long it would be before my hair started falling out.
“It is not contagious to you, Key,” Veija said. “It can only affect Paradisians. This is the dreaded Paradisaical disease that has been killing our people over the last decade. Half the population of our world has been destroyed by it.” Her eyes shimmered.
“So, what caused the disease?” I asked, willing my heart to work again as I eyed the twisting mist.
“A good question. We believe Kirid Clan created it.”
My eyes narrowed. “But why would they create something that can cause them harm too? Or are they immune to it?”
She shook her head. “They didn’t mean to create it. It was their greed. Paradise is a beautiful, peaceful place, but the curse of Kirid has taken the form of destruction. In order to cleanse Paradise of greed and malice, the core of our world has created this disease to stop the wickedness of Kirid Clan from spreading. Unfortunately, the core cannot stop from destroying other lives in the process.”
“And this is where I come in?”
She smiled sweetly. “Very good, Key. This is the purpose of Vendaeva. You must stop the disease from overcoming the whole of Paradise. This is the reason you were summoned by the great Phudel.”
“You mean the puddle?” I raised a brow. I didn't mention to her that the great Phudel hadn't been responsible for my presence here—that I'd only come because some idiot teenage jock had pushed me in. The puddle had only taken it from there.
“Well, yes, you could call it that,” she said with a blush.
I was beginning to suspect that every non-English word I’d heard thus far was just a glorified term for something less-than-amazing that they didn’t want me to see for what it really was.
“Okay, so how am I supposed to stop this deadly illness?”
“That,” she raised a finger and then lowered it again, looking dejected, “I don’t know.”
My eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you the Seer?”
She gasped. “How did you know?”
Too predictable. “Wild guess,” I said aloud. “So, you really don’t know?”
She shook her head. “I’m—” She broke off and spun around. “Oh no. I must leave. Our time is done.”
Before I could respond, the images all blurred and fused together, then dripped like wet paint on a canvas. My mind began to spin, and I teetered, fell, and lost consciousness. When I opened my eyes again, my first sight was of Crenen’s mismatched eyes four inches from my face.
8
The Realm of Yenen
“Aaahh!”
I scrambled to my feet, twisting away to avoid colliding with Crenen.
He was kneeling on the ground beside my soft patch of grass, watching me with wry amusement. “What matter, Strange Coward Girl? Scream like woman.” He put his finger (claw and all) in his ear.
I scowled. “What d’ya mean, ‘what matter’? You were this close to my face.” I held my hands out to show the proximity. “What the freak?”
He was still smiling. “Strange Coward Boy mumbling funny words from dream and we was wanting know what mumblings be. No ‘freak’ present,” he assured me. “You mention something of dying persons and tried hitting self while scrunching nose—like this,” he wrinkled his nose. “Strange Coward Boy need hear self some time. Would get great laugh.”
I stared at him, trying to comprehend not only his words but his sense of humor. How were “dying persons” funny?
“Just, never get that close again, okay?”
Crenen lifted his chin. “We do what please us. Sooner you and Tall Strong Jerk know that, sooner you last long.”
I said nothing, but instead looked around for Menen and Jenen, recalling what had been happening before I fell asleep. It was a wonder Crenen was acting so nonchalant after the attack—or, considering what sort of devil Crenen appeared to be, perhaps it wasn't so much of a wonder. “Where’re your cronies?” I asked, not finding my fellow slaves.
Crenen blinked and laughed his most maniacal laugh, sending shivers down my spine. “Lowly Cronies One and Two, yeah? Very clever Strange Coward Boy.” He gestured off into the trees. “You been sleeping long time—two days. Yesterday, Sick Nasty Dog offer to use sharp nose and scout ahead for signs of Slimy Bad Kirid and to prepare for re-arrival, and we send Tall Strong Jerk along to make certain Sick Nasty Dog not foolishly run off.”
“But didn't Jenen want to stick around because of me and this Seer of yours?” I recalled Veija and managed a strained smile. She’d been as helpful to me as a textbook—meaning none.
“Sick Nasty Dog think he very clever,” Crenen said, lounging back in the shady grass, folding his arms behind his head. His movements were surprisingly lithe, considering how injured he’d been before. His lopsided ponytail splayed across the dewy grass, probably catching all sorts of gnats, while his red wrap darkened as it soaked in the morning dew. “He probably thinking he outwit us and claim Strange Coward Boy, then find own Seer. Maybe.”
“So Menen is a sort of precaution against that; a way to make Jenen think twice about doing anything rash.” Frankly, of the two twins, Crenen struck me as the rash type. Jenen was a lot more subdued (though definitely as evil as his brother).
Crenen nodded, fixing his eyes on the branches overhead. “We almost to Realm of Yenen. Be there in a matter of some time.”
His sense of distance was astonishing. “Realm of Yenen. Is that, like, your headquarters or something?”
“Yeah. Many of Order of Crenen won’t re-arrive this time. Too many die at Slimy Bad Kirid attack.” His eyes lost their focus, then he blinked. “Tall Strong Jerk and Sick Nasty Dog be coming back soon, and we travel then, yeah?” He raised one clawed hand to the sky. “Anyway, surprise, Strange Coward Boy.”
I looked up—
—And my jaw dropped. The trees around us were packed with thousands upon thousands of Paradisaical Purple Fruit. I felt my mouth water as I recalled the scrumptious taste of those perfect grapes—er, gerani.
“We dwell in most fertile part of Paradise. Here grow most best Fruits of Paradise. We lucky enough to hide in Large Ample Grove last night, yeah?” He rose to his feet, perhaps a little slower than normal, and reached up to the branches, plucking a bunch from the tree.
Wait a second—
A tree? I thought grapes grew on vines.
Oh well. Who was I to argue?
“Eat. Tall Strong Jerk not like Paradisaical Purple Fruit, so he not see, yeah?”
I nodded and took the precious bundle from Crenen, staring at the spherical delights, each flawless and unspoiled. I popped what I thought was the largest of the bunch into my mouth and allowed the flavorful fruit to burst, juices spurting from my mouth and dribbling down my chin. Dang, these were good.
“In dream, Strange Coward Boy mention something of Seer, yeah?”
As I wiped my chin with my jacket sleeve, I tried to remember more of the strange dream. It was a little vague, but still clearer than any dreams I'd had before in my life. “Oh, uh, earlier you mentioned something about a Seer. I guess that entered my dreams.” I was potentially telling a lie, but I didn't know for sure if it was a dream or something more.
A familiar voice spoke from the trees. “Eating gerani causes you to be more in tune with supernatural elements. Isn’t that right, Crenen?” Jenen stepped into view, followed closely by Menen, who was eyeing the fruit in my hands with disdain.
Crenen f
lashed them both an evil grin.
Jenen continued. “Whilst under the influence of gerani you might even be visited by persons of tremendous power.” He shot Crenen a suspicious glance.
“But only so say crazy persons, yeah?” Crenen said.
“I met her,” I admitted, deciding it was best not to let the two of them start arguing again.
Crenen burst out laughing—again showing that either the rest of us had lost our respective senses of humor, or his was far different from ours. “Seer waste no time, yeah?”
“You saw the Seer?” Jenen asked, ignoring his twin.
I nodded, too happy with my non-berry, tree-clinging, out-of-season grapes to care about whatever politics plagued the brothers.
“Did the Seer mention being allied with Crenen?” asked Jenen.
I shrugged as I munched away.
“Hardly in condition to give detail, yeah?” Crenen cackled. “Paradisaical Purple Fruit only good for mind that sleeps, or Small Red Fuzzies.”
“Now he admits it,” Menen muttered in the background.
Wait a second. Had Crenen intoxicated me to keep me from thinking too clearly? Because it had worked. I was being toyed with and I found myself unable to care.
Jenen scowled.
“Win again, yeah? You come back with Tall Strong Jerk. Tells us you needing Strange Coward Boy enough to serve us, yeah? Make us wonder why Sick Nasty Dog need Vendaeva so much. Make intriguing situation, in which we have upper hand.”
The effeminate twin's face darkened, reminding me of when I’d stupidly called him a girl to his pretty face. The fear attached to that memory was almost enough to pull me from my stupor—but not quite.
“Let’s go,” Jenen said, and turned his back on everyone to walk the way he’d just come through the trees.
“What did he do?” Crenen asked, his attention now on Menen, trademark grin gone.
“He stared at the ground the entire time,” Menen said. “He refused to look around unless he couldn’t help it at all, and he would not enter the Realm.”
“Still foolish,” Crenen growled, digging his claws into his other hand until blood was drawn.
A Liar in Paradise Page 9
