by Alexia Purdy
***
Shade slipped her plate into the sink while scanning her eyes across the lawn out the kitchen window. The dusk was absorbing the day away in colors of tangerine, red and gold. Rinsing the dishes and putting them away, she looked again out into the dimming evening. She spotted Dylan standing near the edge of their lawn. He was staring into the woods behind her house. The property was large and extended a couple acres beyond the grass and a short way into the woods. The house was surrounded by forest and was spaced far enough away into the trees that no one could see it from any other house on the road. Shade thought her mother had probably loved the privacy of the lot when she’d bought it.
The gentle breeze swayed Dylan’s hair, teasing it into a halo which swirled around his head. It hung past his ears and lay straight in jet-black masses. He looked almost like a statue out there, alone and still. Shade wondered what he was doing.
Brisa had taken off before it had gotten too dark. Shade wiped the counter clean and headed out the back door toward the Teleen warrior. He remained where he was, still and as straight as a board, even when she came to a stop beside him. She took a long look into the forest, hoping to catch what he was watching.
“Hey, Dylan, you okay? Did you eat any dinner?” When he didn’t respond, she turned to study his face. His white skin had tanned a bit since leaving the Teleen caves and now had a healthy glow. His shining black hair framed his face nicely as his steel-grey eyes glowed in the sunset and scanned the trees and tall grasses.
“Dylan?”
He turned his eyes to Shade and took in her face, acknowledging her before turning back to the remnants of the day. The seriousness that clung to his face worried her.
“I thought I would be home by now, Shade.” His solemn voice made her shiver.
His arms hung at his sides, never wavering from his statuesque stance, as though his feet were rooted to the land under him. Shade stared at him; he seemed so lost and alone. She often wondered what went through his head. At the graduation parties she’d dragged him to, he’d hung out at the edges of the rooms or in the corners, trying to fade away and become inconspicuous. He would nod and smile at the friends she would introduce to him, but he would leave that as the extent of his conversation. Getting him to mingle was like pulling teeth.
“I know, I’ve been thinking about the same thing. Look, I’m seeing Ilarial tomorrow, and I’ll talk to her about it. Maybe she has an idea of what must be done to break our bond. You are coming tomorrow, right? It’s weapons training day, and I really would like it if you were there.” She watched his face for any hint of emotion. His eyes were full, but like a deep well which one would fear to fall into, they remained elusive. All her pals from school had immediately become infatuated by him. His piercing grey eyes and smooth skin drew all of them in and caused them to become stuttering, lovesick fools. He never seemed to take notice of it or pay them any kind of attention, though. Either that or he just didn’t care.
“I will go with you. But I am of no use there. I don’t see why you would need me there at all.” He sighed while crossing his arms and lifting his face up. He turned toward her. Shade pressed her lips together. She hated that he felt useless to help her with weapons training now, ever since they had first started weapons training and he’d gotten that good knock on her in the face with a wooden sword. They had found themselves wide-eyed with matching split lips and blood dripping down their chins.
Apparently, the blood bind which kept them together had grown stronger and now caused them equal injuries if Dylan caused Shade any sort injury or vice versa. This had ended her being paired with Dylan for sparring and left him an infinitely frustrated sideliner. It didn’t help that Soap, whose given name was Rylan, was now her sparring partner and didn’t receive any injuries when she got hit. She had watched Dylan steam with jealousy when Soap had tripped her, and her right arm received the brunt of scrapes, blood dripping from her scratches. As long as she was injured by someone else, Dylan wouldn’t receive injuries like hers, but he could feel her pain thrashing though him as it coursed through her. They were all the casualties of the fight training.
“Dylan, you are a huge help with the weapons. Who else could teach me how to clean, inspect and name all of them? I can sharpen a knife better than a butcher now because of you. Besides, your insight on my fighting techniques is amazing since you know what to look for, and you show me how to correct things when I mess up. I don’t think Soap would be as good with that as you are.”
“He’s not as good as me in a lot of things, Shade.” Dylan’s lips snarled at the mention of the Teleen Changeling. Bitterness stuck to his voice like thick syrup, making Shade sigh. She felt like she was beating her head on a wall when talking to Dylan about Soap.
“Fine, Dylan, do what you want to do. Your pouting isn’t going to help us any. So get your head on straight before you become dead weight which I have to lug around. I’m doing the best I can, and it really hurts to be dragged down because of your insecurities about things. I’m going to bed. I have a long day tomorrow. I suggest you do the same, grumpy pants.” She swung around and marched back toward the house, not seeing the shock on Dylan’s face as she slammed the porch screen door shut.
Dylan stared at the door for a moment. Turning back to the forest, which called to him in a sweet voice, he closed his eyes. Life in the city had been intriguing at first, but the forest and its power called to him, singing in his head and growing stronger. Every day was more intense than the last. He squeezed his eyelids shut and let his head spin with the songs of the trees and lands. He was missing his home in the caverns. He felt a surge of resentment as thoughts of his brother Darren invaded his serenity. Darren had changed so much since they were children, and watching his brother grow more mischievous and become outright evil had been exhausting. His mother had been right to be concerned for Darren and his sadistic mannerisms. He had almost killed Shade but failed when her untapped magic had trapped him in his own magic mirror. He had caused Dylan so much grief, he’d felt almost nothing when he’d disowned him. Dylan was done covering up Darren’s screw-ups, especially when it involved attempted murder.
Dylan wondered exactly what sort of magic was brewing in Shade, which no one else seemed to know anything about. She was certainly unique. He had enjoyed sparring with her, and the occasional touching and bumping into each other had sent a thrill through him like none he’d never experienced. He found himself wanting to hold her again, to stroke her hair and kiss her deeply, as they had done at the Santiran Fountains. He didn’t even know if she felt the same toward him. She seemed so distracted and busy with her family, her magic and fight training, it didn’t seem like he could ask her much about it at all. His feelings had grown, burning inside him like the bluish-white fire which flowed along under his skin and flickered with electricity. He doubted Shade even had a clue about it.
Opening his storm-filled eyes, he chanced one more longing stare at the woods before turning back to the house.
Chapter Three
