by Eliza Tilton
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lucino
“Here.” I gave Jeslyn a piece of bread.
Her face was ashen, and she took the bread, holding it as she found a spot on the deck to sit.
I sat beside her. It was our fifth night aboard the boat. The rocking motion of the waves had been rough on her. She spent the first few days vomiting over the side of the ship and sitting in the crow’s nest. Her nausea had passed, but after today’s rough storm, her skin coloring had pasty undertones.
“What happened?” she asked softly.
The question could be for many things, but I sensed she wanted to know about the past, about what took place in Daath. I hadn’t decided if I would tell her. This time at sea had passed quickly and with few arguments.
She broke off a small piece of bread and put it into her mouth.
“The truth won’t change the past,” I said.
“No, but I need to hear it.”
“What do you want to know?”
She picked at the bread, taking another piece. “When you told me why I was kidnapped, were you telling the truth?”
“Yes.”
“And about my brother, when you said he was dead?”
“I was misinformed. I thought he had been killed.”
I waited for her to ask another question, but her mouth opened and shut without words as if she struggled with her thoughts. Her anger had faded over our journey. Between our ridiculous deck duties and her sickness, there was little time to be angry at one another.
“Was any of it real?”
I didn’t understand what she asked. “Which part?”
Her hands squeezed the bread and she lifted her head, turning to face me. “At the wedding, you said you never thought you could feel the way you did when I walked in.”
At her words, I remembered that day in the temple. How she appeared like an ethereal light floating to me, the dress accentuating every feminine curve of her body. Her golden aura absorbed everything around her, including me. When she had walked in, my plans had changed.
“What is the point of this discussion?” I dismissed the foreign warmth her gaze gave me.
Her face paled, and I thought she’d vomit again. She turned away, shaking her head.
No, I wouldn’t allow myself to entertain those thoughts, not after her brother had made a mockery out of me.
She placed the remainder of the bread on the ship’s ledge and left.
I wished she would’ve stayed angry instead of posing these questions. My head ached, an uncommon ailment for me. She and this ship were distracting me from my true goals.
The wind whipped the sails.
Forced to sit on sodden wood, I breathed in and out, thinking. Jeslyn could ask as many questions as she wanted; my plans wouldn’t change, not this time.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Avikar
Father never said much about Stormwood, except that the trees were big terebinths. Staring at a gigantic trunk almost as big as Lord Tyre’s castle, I couldn’t believe my eyes. This wasn’t big, this was gargantuan!
“Is that really a tree?” Raven tugged at my arm and bounced on her toes.
“We call them the ancients. They are the oldest and most cherished trees in Tarrtainya.” Cael continued walking. “The tales say these trees were here before anything walked the lands. This is a sacred wood.”
“My father never mentioned them being this big.” I gazed upward, unable to see the treetops. The giant trees created a sky canopy and only specks of sunlight filtered to the ground.
“To most, they’re just giant trees, but to The Order, it’s home.” He ended his sentence in front of one of the trees, rubbing his hand along the bark, until he stopped and pressed in, revealing a massive secret door. Bark rippled before my eyes, becoming malleable. Cael shifted pieces of the bark until a handle appeared.
“Welcome to Stormwood.”
Cael pushed the door open and Raven walked in first. I followed.
The inside of the tree reminded me of a tiny village. Small homes were carved into the wood; curving stairs and rope bridges crisscrossed from the dirt ground to the high top. Lanterns illuminated the inside of the tree, making the entire place glow warmly.
“Impossible,” I said.
“Not impossible,” Cael corrected. “These trees are holy, protected by The Creator. Their wood is strong and resilient. When The Order discovered Stormwood, ages ago, they began building inside the trees.”
“What about the fire? This entire place could burn.” Raven spun around, letting out little gasps while pointing at the hanging lanterns and wooden huts.
“Fire can’t harm this wood.”
Raven and I both stopped walking and stared at him.
Cael smiled. “I told you, this wood is holy.”
A girl dressed in blue and black robes with whitish-blonde hair ran to Cael, smiling. “You’ve returned!” She slammed into him and gave him a big hug.
“Hello, Ginna. This is Avikar and Raven.”
“It’s very nice to meet you.” She smiled at Raven. “Cael’s told me a lot about you.”
Cael blushed and gently moved Ginna to the side.
“It’s nice to meet you too.” Raven’s gaze shifted toward Cael. “I hope he was nice in his storytelling.”
Ginna giggled. “Oh, he was.”
“Ginna, why don’t you show them to the quarters. I need to meet with Malak.”
“Of course. Follow me.”
We walked deeper into the tree, past women washing clothes in bins and children chasing after a chicken. This wasn’t what I expected when Cael said we would be going to The Order’s hideout. I imagined a stuffy, cold structure with old, grumpy men in black and red robes. Yet, there were children and women here, and it reminded me of the small community of Lakewood.
Ginna led us to a stairway carved out of the inside of the tree that circled around the trunk. Wooden platforms supporting small, thatched shacks lined the stairway. The structure of the village consisted of a mix of ropes and wood.
“Here’s where you’ll be staying.” Ginna pointed to me. “Hey, Jonas!” she yelled into the doorway of a shack on our right. “Got a visitor!”
A man with a bushy gray mustache that curled up at the ends stepped out. “Send him in,” he said, wiping his hands on a cloth.
Raven grabbed my arm. Her fingers dug deep and she leaned against me.
“And where do the women stay?” I slid my arm around her waist, hugging her to my side.
Ginna pointed to a similar shack near the next rising staircase. “Over there.”
I leaned into Raven. “You’ll be fine,” I whispered. “But if anything happens, whistle. I’ll come for you.”
She held onto my arm, biting her lower lip. “Okay.” She let go, and I gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head before she followed Ginna across the bridge.
“Well, come in,” Jonas said. “I’ll show you your cot.”
The inside of the shack was larger than I’d expected: one long, rectangular room. Three bunks lined the wall across from a cooking space. A wooden table sat in the middle, surrounded by wooden stools.
“You’ll sleep here.” Jonas pointed to one of the lower bunks. He walked toward a wooden door on the right side of the room and opened it. “Back here is where you do your business. See this pot?”
I nodded.
“When you use it, dump the contents into this outside bucket and pulley it down.”
The back wall of the bathroom had a large window cut out of it. A bucket tied to a rope sat on a ledge. I looked outside the window to the bottom of the village.
“One of the cleaners takes the bucket, empties it, and pulleys it—” Jonas sneezed, interrupting himself.
I waited for him to finish, but he sneezed four more t
imes, then twice more.
“Are you all right?”
Catching his breath, he shook his head. “Nose doesn’t agree with living in a tree.”
He patted his round belly. “That’s it for now. Sit and clean up if you wish. Suppertime will be soon. I need to finish my work.”
“Thank you.”
I looked out the window again, feeling sorry for whoever had to clean out my bucket.
Chapter Thirty
Avikar
I sat at a long wooden table surrounded by regular folk, no fancy robes or armor, just workers. Raven sat across from me wearing a plain green dress that brought out the almond color of her skin. She wore her hair braided on the right side, and I wondered how they convinced her to put on a dress.
Cael still hadn’t returned from his meeting. Malak’s name had sounded familiar, but I couldn’t remember where I’d heard it before, or who he was.
Raven dipped a wooden spoon into a bowl of soup that simmered with rosemary, leeks, and potatoes. She sipped slowly and caught me staring.
I winked.
Conversations went on around us, but all of it merged into one loud noise. Raven glanced back and forth at the people sitting near us. She’d never been outside of Daath, and I could only imagine what her thoughts must be.
“What is this place?” I asked Ginna who seemed more than happy to tell us.
“This is the work tree. We provide supplies for The Order.” Ginna smeared boiled blueberries over a piece of fanna. “There are a total of six trees: the work tree, the healing tree, the training tree, the base tree, the living tree, and the holy tree.”
“Are they all this big?” Raven smiled as she gazed up at the high ceiling.
“No, some are much smaller,” Ginna said. “This is the biggest because of all the work we do. The others are half this size. Tomorrow, I’ll show you the rest, except the holy tree. No one but priests and guards are allowed in there.”
“Keeping my friends company?” Cael patted Ginna’s shoulder and she slid over to let him sit.
“I was just telling them about the trees,” she said. “I thought I could show them tomorrow.”
“Where were you?” I asked. We hadn’t seen Cael since we first arrived in the afternoon.
He smiled and nodded at the man sitting next to Raven. “I updated General Malak. He has men stationed around the forest. Lucy won’t get close.”
He sounded confident, but this was Lucy. She may have not shown herself since the pass, but she was out there. What was she waiting for? I wanted to believe we had lost her and that she was wandering the mountains searching for us, but luck and I were never the best of friends.
“What’s the plan?” When I had told Cael about Lucino and his shapeshifting ability, he was shocked—almost didn’t believe it. The Order had suspected Lucy of using magic, but they had no clue about her shapeshifting brother.
“The general wants to meet with you tomorrow. You’ve fought against one of them. You understand their skills better than any of our men.”
I nodded, not wanting to admit I didn’t actually remember the fight.
A hand touched my leg. Raven had moved to sit beside me. “I’m coming.”
Cael shook his head. “Women aren’t allowed in the training tree.”
“Why? You have no female fighters?”
“If it were up to me, I would have you train a few of our men, but unless you’re a priestess, you can’t go in.”
Raven’s hand tensed against my leg.
“You wouldn’t want to show off and make the men feel bad,” I said.
She frowned. “I don’t understand why a woman can’t fight alongside her friends.”
“I trust you more than anyone to have my back.”
“That’s because you’re terrible at watching your own.”
I bumped her shoulder, and she smiled.
“You can come with me,” Ginna said. “The women have a few places of their own the men aren’t allowed in.”
Cael raised an eyebrow. “What places are those?”
She shrugged, and Cael playfully nudged her. The gesture turned her pale skin red.
“Walk with me.” Raven grabbed my hand.
I stood with her. “Excuse us.”
Raven’s hand gripped mine and she swung our arms back and forth. “Can you believe this place?”
“How are you doing? All of this must be a bit overwhelming.”
“I would never expect anyone to live in a tree.”
“I meant, outside of Daath.”
“Oh.” Her hand held mine a little tighter. “There’s a lot to learn, but it’s not so different from home.”
Her gaze wandered around at the timber shacks. Twine and wildflowers decorated each home differently. Some houses had more yellow, some had more blue, but each had its own personality—a clay pot with yellow shrubbery, a twined bench, a dangling circle of colored balls. This tree had more than just people; calmness filled the air.
“I still don’t understand why I’ve never heard about this place,” I grumbled.
Raven shrugged. “Maybe The Order kept it a secret.”
Whether The Order kept the hideout a secret was irrelevant. All the stories about Stormwood mentioned giant trees, but there was a big difference between a large tree and a mass of trees that people lived in.
Our path led us to an area set up for offerings with a white stone statue of The Creator: head of a lion, body of a man, and massive arched wings.
“What is that?” Raven walked closer and ran her hand across the carved image.
I realized she never talked about The Creator or any god. “It’s a statue of The Creator. People leave offerings around it and pray for blessings.”
She tilted her head. “Why? Who’s The Creator?”
“God. Do you pray to someone else?”
She bit her lip and crossed her arms. Her eyes inspected every token placed on the floor— small candles, purple and cerulean flower petals, and fruit. “Sometimes I pray for safety and courage to all the gods: the gods of water, earth, and fire. There are no temples in Daath. Lucino forbids worship of any kind. He said the only god is the one who protects the land, and that’s him.”
Sometimes I forgot how little Raven understood about the outside world. I wrapped a hand around her waist. “One day, I’ll have to tell you the story my mother told me.” I kissed the top of her hand. “Come on,” I said, and ushered her away from the altar to a more secluded place.
Raven leaned into me as we walked, laughter from people still eating their dinner drifting by us. I held her closer, inhaling her honey-scented hair and feeling her against my side.
We stood behind a shack. The structure blocked us from sight.
She crept her fingers under my shirt, playing with the fabric. I turned her so that we faced one another. I hadn’t kissed her in a long time—at least not really kissed her. Her chocolate eyes pulled me in, warm and endless. I pressed my lips to hers, sliding my hands to her hips to pull her against me.
She kissed me back, and each time our lips brushed across one another, she would kiss harder. Excitement raced through me as my body responded to her hands tugging at the ends of my hair, her fingertips sweeping my neck and making me crazy.
My hands slid farther down her sides. It was always a battle kissing her. I wanted more; more than was proper.
She stood on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around me tighter. My lips left her mouth and found her neck.
“Avikar . . . .”
I broke away to kiss her lips and look in her eyes.
She placed her hand on my cheek, smiling at me, her cheeks flushed. “I love you,” she said.
In three words, I knew what she hinted at. Heat filled her breath and it made me want to find a place to be alone with her.
&nb
sp; “I love you, too.” I kissed her lightly on the lips, looking around us.
We were near a rope ladder that travelled up the tree to a high walkway. “Want to check this place out?” I nodded toward the ladder.
She smiled and started climbing.
The ladder took us to an empty walkway that spiraled around the width of the tree, almost to the top. There weren’t any shacks or people up here, just the walkway. When I glanced down, my head dizzied. How much higher did this tree reach? Gargantuan wasn’t a big enough word to describe this place.
“Here.” Raven tugged me to an oval door in the wall. “Where do you think it goes?”
“Let’s find out.” I stepped in front of her, pushing it open.
Raven gasped, and I couldn’t stop grinning.
We walked outside onto a branch the width of a road. Big egg-shaped leaves, gold and orange from the changing weather, hung in bunches around us. A woodpecker with a bright red head pecked at the tree right above the door.
“This is unbelievable.” Raven squeezed my hand.
Anytime I had climbed trees in the past, I’d look down and sweat at the distance, but here, I couldn’t see the ground. The branches were too wide, and the leaves concealed everything, including us.
Realizing how alone we were, for the first time since leaving Daath, I grabbed Raven and rubbed the heavy cotton of her dress.
“We’re alone,” she said, sliding her arms around my neck.
“Very alone,” I replied right before my lips connected with hers.
Alone.
Finally.
Raven’s lips had to be the softest lips that ever existed. When they slipped to any part of my face or neck, I wanted to take that dress and throw it off of the tree. I picked her up, hugging her waist, and pressed her against the bark. Her breath caught and I grinned.
While the dress was pretty to look at, it covered everything a little too well. The only patch of skin showing was her neck. My hands slid from her back to her front, slowly moving up her stomach.
