by Eliza Tilton
She laughed, throwing her head back. “I like you. I’ll keep your little secret, for now. Tonight is a celebration.”
I grabbed her wrist and ripped her hand from my shirt. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I don’t know what you call water where you live, but that isn’t it.” “I thought it tasted minty.”
“Better go home,” she said, patting my hand and smiling. “Wouldn’t want you drinking anything else.”
Before I could ask her another question, she winked and walked away, returning to her group of friends who had almost disappeared into the crowd. I looked around to see if anyone was watching, then sniffed the liquid in the mug. Mint. When I tilted the mug, allowing the light from the festival to shine inside, a green hue flashed in the liquid.
Warmth swarmed over my skin in waves. I threw the mug on the ground, wondering what drink would taste of mint. The green liquid spilled out, and I swore it formed the shape of a lizard.
Ever since the fight with Lucino, my mind hadn’t been right. The details of the fight faded in and out of my memories. The most important moment of my life, and I could barely remember it. But something else bothered me, no, haunted me, something I had forgotten.
Ugh. I ran a hand through my hair, pushing it off my forehead, and closed my eyes as the night breeze blew against my hot face. All the excitement of the night left, and suddenly I wanted to see Raven.
I was done with Daath and its strange festivals.
Chapter Two
Avikar
Raven sat by the small pond near Jericho’s home, aimlessly tossing rocks into the shallow water. Her jet hair rolled across her back in waves, the braids from earlier undone and the ribbons thrown on the grass. Next to her lay a glass bottle with only a splash of red liquid in it. I sighed. Did she drink that entire thing?
I sat beside her, and she threw another pebble into the water. Her eyes were red, and her face blotchy. Had she been crying?
“Raven.”
She continued ignoring me. I brushed her long hair away from her face with my hand. I wanted to tell her about the festival and the weird girl, but only after I learned why she was out here crying.
“Talk to me.”
Sniffling, she wiped her face with the sleeve of her shirt. “I’m fine.”
I knew the price of keeping the pain locked away. Whatever happened with Rachel hurt her. But, how could I get Raven to talk about her past, when I hadn’t told her about Jimri? Not knowing what to say, I rubbed her back.
Soon, her sniffles stopped and she glanced over at me, eyes still red. I smiled and she kissed me. Her lips reminded me of soft cotton, and they were the sweetest lips I ever tasted, almost berry-like. My stomach filled with excitement. Every time we kissed, all I could think of was more.
More of her.
We lowered to the ground, side by side, arms intertwined. She pressed her lips hard against mine, more forceful than she’d ever been.
“You’re going to be in trouble if you keep kissing me like this.”
Raven rolled on top of me, planting her hands on my chest. “Don’t tell me you’re suddenly shy?”
“Of course not.”
“Good.” Raven leaned down and pushed her lips hard against mine, driving my senses into a frenzy.
No matter how much I wanted to explore every part of her, I wouldn’t . . . not like this. In all the time I’d known her, I’d never seen her so upset and it bothered me. Slowly, I sat up, holding her in a tight hug. With her chest against mine, her heart beat faster and faster, thumping against me.
She pushed me away and jumped to her feet. “What are you about?”
I stood, wary of her behavior. “Did you drink that entire bottle?”
Her chocolate eyes watered and she bit her bottom lip.
I reached for her hand. “Let’s go inside.”
“You’d rather go to sleep than stay out here with me?” She slid her hand across my chest.
“Of course not, but you’re upset. Does Lucas have anything to do with it? You never mentioned him. What happened with your sister?”
Raven’s lip quivered, and I thought she’d cry.
Instead, she growled. “It doesn’t matter what happened!” The words flew out in a rage and her chest heaved with fury. “And I don’t want to talk about it.” She shoved past me and stomped away from the pond, her shoulders shaking.
What could have her so upset?
So many times, I thought of telling her the truth about Jimri, but I didn’t. Even though I understood his death wasn’t my fault, I was still ashamed. The past hurt. I could understand her better than anyone. And yet, here I stood, too cowardly to reveal my own weakness.
Maybe if I shared my past, she’d finally share hers.
Jericho sat at the table playing with his daughter, Merrin, whose blonde curls reminded me of my younger sister, Calli. I wanted to keep my promise to Jeslyn and return home soon. I’d already stayed in Daath longer than I planned.
“Morning.” I yawned as I slipped into the wooden seat.
“Morning. How was the festival?”
I grabbed a piece of fanna from the center of the table and rubbed butter on it. “Interesting. Raven left early. Have you seen her?”
“No, and I don’t suspect she’ll be getting up anytime soon. She stumbled upstairs last night. Seems she had a bit too much to drink.” He stopped bouncing Merrin on his lap and met my gaze, frowning.
“Not my doing. She was upset.”
“Why did she want to leave the festival?”
“I’m not sure. She was in a great mood until we bumped into Rachel and her brother-in-law.”
“Hmm.” Jericho’s brow furrowed.
“What?”
“I’ve noticed Raven gets very distressed around her sister’s husband.”
My blood pumped. “If he ever laid a hand on her—”
“Don’t assume anything. It’s just an observation. Whatever is troubling Raven, she’ll tell us when she’s ready. In the meantime, you can take her some tea.”
Raven’s bedroom door creaked as I opened it. The white curtains were drawn, allowing only a partial light to enter the room. She lay sprawled across the bed, face hidden, one foot hanging off, the other missing a sandal, and one arm cradling a nearby pillow.
Her dark hair spread out across the bed, covering her back.
A small lantern sat on an oak night table next to Raven’s bed. I walked in and placed the hot tea on the table. Grabbing her foot, I sat on the bed and took off her remaining sandal.
Raven groaned and rolled over.
“Good morning,” I said softly.
She curled into a ball and buried her head under the blanket. “What are you doing here?” she grumbled.
“I brought you some tea. How are you feeling?”
Raven stuck her head out from under the blanket. “Absolutely horrible.”
Puffy circles surrounded her eyes, and her face lacked any touch of color. I scooted closer to her and crawled under the blankets, bringing her body to mine. Raven snuggled next to me, burrowing her head into my chest. “I’m sorry for getting angry.”
I kissed the top of her head and combed her hair with my fingers.
“Don’t, I’m disgusting right now.” She tried to back away from me.
“You could never be disgusting,” I whispered.
“Avikar . . . .”
I held her a bit longer before she pulled herself up. As she slowly sat straighter, her hand went to her brow. “Oh, it feels as if there’s someone hitting me with a log.”
“Keep that as a reminder next time you decide to drink an entire bottle of wine.” I handed her the tea. “Raven, last night at the festival—”
Boisterous laughter drifted from downstairs. Raven’s brows furrowe
d as she tilted her head, mirroring what I imagined I must look like, until the louder of the voices erupted in a bellowing laugh. Raven’s eyes lit up and a wide smile stretched across her face. Quickly, she set the tea on her night table and leapt out of bed, stumbling over me in the process, and falling to the floor.
I stood, laughing, then helped her to her feet. “Who are you so excited to see?”
Raven clapped her hands and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Cael is back!” she squealed as she ran out of the room.
Who is Cael?
I followed Raven downstairs to where a tall boy in all black clothes stood laughing with Jericho.
“Cael!” Raven jumped into his arms.
“Hey, Bird,” he said, wrapping his big arms around her.
The interaction made my hands clench and unclench at each laugh and touch.
“When did you come back? How have you been? I missed you so much!” Raven rambled, staying in his arms far too long for my liking.
Finally, Cael let her go. “Just now. I came straight here.”
Raven bounced on her toes. I guessed she didn’t have a headache anymore. I grit my teeth. Who was this guy?
“It’s good to have you back home,” Jericho said, clapping a hand to Cael’s shoulder. “I’ll go get Anna. She’ll be happy to see you.”
Raven skipped over to me. “Avikar, meet Cael,” she said, while dragging me over to Blond Boy whose short hair curled like a girl’s.
“It’s great to meet you, Avikar.” Cael shook my hand.
I made sure to squeeze hard.
“Likewise,” I said. “How do you two know each other?” I tried to keep the contempt out of my voice.
“Cael is my oldest friend,” Raven said, smiling a little too wide. “I still can’t believe you’re back. I never thought I would see you again.”
Raven hugged him. Again. “You shouldn’t have left,” she whispered.
Cael wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back.
Heat raced through my body, and I had to grab a marble in my pocket to keep from hitting him.
“I’m sorry about your parents,” he said. “Jericho told me. I went there first.”
Raven continued hugging him. Cael hugged her back. My teeth ground. Was this a hugging festival? I’d never seen two people hug so much!
Raven finally broke away from Cael. “Tell me everything. What were The Shores like?”
Cael’s smile faded. “The Shores are nothing like we thought.”
Even with Lucino gone, Jericho and his men hadn’t ventured out to The Shores. I kept asking why, and they’d respond with something vague like, “It’s best to leave them be.” The secrecy about the Northern Land seemed pointless. Raven told me The Shores was a place for exiled villagers. Anytime I pushed Jericho for more information, he’d sidestep the conversation. What was so important about that place?
“Is that you, Cael? Oh, bless my poppies, it is!” Anna joined the greeting fest with hugs and kisses, Jericho walking in behind her.
“We can talk more later,” Jericho said to Cael, ending any chance of me finding out more information.
While everyone flocked to Cael, I decided to check on Brushfire. She needed a run, and I needed to think. In the cover of night, couldn’t other people have confused the minted drink with water? Why did I stand out? And why was that such a big mistake to make?
Brushfire stood in her stall, her foot sweeping against the ground as I approached.
“Morning, girl.” I opened the latch and led her out. “How are you doing?”
I took the big wooden brush off the wall and stroked it against her skin. We’d been on a long journey together, from the grief of losing my brother, to the battle where we met Jericho, and then onto Daath. Things made sense when I rode Brushfire. She never judged and never disappointed. She was my heart in moving form.
I rubbed under her neck as I brushed her. “You ready for a run?”
She nudged me with her head and I patted her nose. “Me too.”
The forest near the temple was too dangerous and overgrown for Brushfire to navigate through, so, after an exhilarating romp, I left her by the brook that marked the entrance to the strange woods. I’d visited this place a few times since the fight with Lucino, hoping the scenery would trigger a memory, but nothing had happened.
Heat pressed all around me; sweat dripped down my face and soaked my shirt. Each time I inhaled, my chest tightened, and I had to wipe my palms off on my pants. I searched the awkwardly bent trees, dripping with moss, for birds, or monkeys, or anything living.
Nothing.
Forests should never be this quiet.
Nothing good thrived here.
I kept an eye out for the massive spider webs. Bugs didn’t scare me, but a spider bigger than my fist . . . The last time I entered this forest, I had seen one of the oversized spiders spin a bird between its legs. Spiders shouldn’t be that big!
Sunlight beamed onto the cracked white temple with two lizardmen sculptures guarding the entrance. With my bow ready, I waited, checking the area for visitors. When I heard nothing but my own breath, I crept toward the massive entrance.
My skin itched, as though a bug crawled around beneath my flesh, and the air tingled with a hum that vibrated through me. A few steps inside and my chest tightened. There never seemed to be enough air in this place.
The temple was empty. The large pit sat in the center, waiting to swallow anyone stupid enough to approach. I sat on the first step of the spiraled stairs that descended into the darkness, examining the void. My dagger vibrated, as it did every time I came close to this pit. My muscles tensed, and vertigo threatened to send me forward, but I fought it back.
Why couldn’t I stop thinking about this place? I needed to learn more about this temple; I just had to find someone willing to talk.
I placed my bow on the ground and took out my father’s dagger, examining the runes adorning the hilt. Their similarity to the runes carved into the temple floor raised too many questions—ones I had no answers to. My father rarely spoke of his war days, only that he’d served the king. How did a warrior fight beside the king’s men, then stop everything to raise horses and children? I no longer pictured myself working on a farm, not after everything I’d experienced.
Raven didn’t know I visited the temple every couple of days. I didn’t like lying to her, but she would probably tell me to let it go.
Slipping the dagger back in its sheath, I took out the piece of vellum I’d been using to make reliefs and made sure I’d copied all of the runes from the floor, especially those that matched my dagger. I needed to know why the runes were on this dagger. Until recently, no one believed Daath existed, including my father. Had he lied? Had he known the truth all along?
Question after question attacked my mind. None of this made sense!
Satisfied I had every rune etched, I slipped the vellum back into my pocket and headed out.
Brushfire and I cantered around the flower fields where Daath cultivated their dye flowers. Every color splattered the green grass in a tumbling rainbow. It seemed a waste to spend so much work on dye, but Daath was a land of color and beauty, and I couldn’t argue when I’d see a girl walking around in one of Daath’s signature dresses.
When I arrived back to Jericho’s, the suns had set and Raven waited for me by the barn.
“Where have you been? I couldn’t find you.”
I slowed Brushfire and dismounted, then grabbed her reins. “Where’s your friend?”
“Washing up for supper.”
Brushfire snorted as I put her back into the stall.
Raven leaned against the stall door, petting Brushfire’s head. “Is everything all right? You seem distracted.”
“There was this girl at the festival,” I said. “She knew I wasn’t from Daath.”
“She did.”
Raven shook her head. “No, Avikar. You need to stop being paranoid about every person. Lucino’s gone, and soon his guard will fall. Jericho’s men have a plan—”
“I need to leave.”
“What?”
“I need to go home, and I want you to come with me.” I grabbed her hands.
Raven turned her head away from me. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” I tugged her closer to me. “You said whenever I was ready to go home, you would leave with me.”
“I know . . . but . . . .”
“But what?”
She faced me, and I searched her brown eyes, trying to understand what could possibly keep her here.
“We will, soon. I promise,” she said, a faint smile forming on her lips.
“Why not now? What’s so important we have to stay?”
“Cael just returned—”
I dropped her hands. “You want to stay because of him?”
Raven reached for me but I stepped back.
“It’s not what you think, Avikar. He’s like a brother to me and I haven’t seen him in five years.”
A brother, sure. I shook my head and started walking out of the barn.
“Avikar!”
I wasn’t going to fight with her, not now. “We’ll talk later. I’m tired.”
Raven might have not believed me, but I didn’t care. I was leaving Daath. I just had to convince her to go with me.
Chapter Three
Lucino
Oddly, Lucy had not come to visit me before her travels. I understood her frustration with what transpired at the temple, but that was merely a setback. My powers had strengthened even without Jeslyn’s essence, and with her alive, I could still infuse her golden aura with mine. If I could get her back to the temple, I could finish the ritual.
I would succeed.
The beaker in front of me gurgled with a foul smelling liquid. “Really, Romulus, must you concoct such vile scents?”
