by Kim Falconer
Leaves fell from her arms and back as she bent to take off her boots and tie them together by the laces. Hoisting them over her shoulder, she squatted down and relieved herself before heading towards the rocks. She had spent her childhood exploring these woods, even though the forest was considered uncanny, taboo. Almost no-one came here and her family had forbidden her to. She ignored their warnings. The woods called to her, always had, and today she felt especially glad she’d listened.
She reached the boulder grove and smiled. She and Jarrod had named it years ago for no other reason than its massive rocks. They used to pretend that in ancient times giant children played games here, the monoliths mere pebbles to them. They towered over Kalindi’s head, warm to the touch. She slid her hand down the smooth stone in greeting, her eyes welling up. Pressing her lips against the surface, she whispered to the granite stone, I’m scared.
A light breeze touched her face, cooling her cheeks and drying her tears. She walked to the centre of the grove, dropped to her knees and buried her hands in the soil.
‘Goddess of the woods, please help me.’
When she rose, she felt lighter, though thirst dried her throat and her stomach growled. ‘I’m going for a drink and a wash,’ she said to the grove. ‘If you see Jarrod, please send him my way.’
She stopped a few times to navigate the steep descent, occasionally mimicking the sound of a kite.
No answer.
What if something had happened to Jarrod too? What if the entire township of Lividica had been attacked? Could another war have started?
She slipped a few feet before catching herself on a willow root. Steady. It’s a long way down.
She reached the bottom of the gorge and jumped the last few feet to the white-pebbled beach where the creek danced over rock and stone, jabbering like an exuberant child. She dropped her boots, hurrying to reach the water’s edge. She sank her hands into the flow, washing them with white sand before drinking deeply.
Water dripped down her chin as she stood pulling her sweater over her head. Her undershirt followed. She tossed both by her boots and stepped out of her long skirt and leggings.
Gingerly, she walked into the stream, goose bumps rising up her arms and legs. You’re freezing today!
At thigh depth she bent over and splashed her face and breasts and underarms, washing away the dried sweat and fear of the night before. Leaning back on her elbows, she submerged her whole body before jumping up, spluttering.
Kalindi hopped around on the little beach, getting the colour back into her fingers and toes. Her breath came in gasps as she unbraided her hair, letting it fall in front of her face, where it hung past her belly in a sheet of black ripples. Combing out the leaves and twigs with her hands she gathered it together, twisting it into a long rope and knotting it on top of her head. She stood in a shaft of sunlight, dressing before whistling the kite call again, shrill and high.
This time, she heard the rapid-chatter reply of a goshawk, ‘Ki ki ki’.
‘Jarrod!’ She grabbed her boots and scrabbled up the gorge, making her way towards the sound. Vines scratched her legs and branches swept her face before she finally heard the crunch of footfalls ahead.
A smile lifted her face, crinkling her eyes when she spotted him. ‘Jarrod!’
He came towards her with his familiar stride, a compound bow in one hand and a quiver of arrows at his back. He walked like a warrior, his eyes gleaming through a mass of dark brown curls that had escaped the tie at the back of his neck. His shoulders were broad, his body strong and his eyes a deep sea blue. He reached her, rising up on his toes to kiss her lips. He wasn’t a tall youth, but damn, he had presence. Kalindi melted into his arms.
‘What are you doing here, gorgeous one?’ he asked. ‘You said you wouldn’t hunt today.’ He squeezed her tight.
‘You haven’t heard?’ Kalindi pulled back to search his face.
‘Heard what?’
‘Don’t you know?’ She blanched at the memory. ‘They shot Assalo. No dogs anywhere and the house empty, except…in the kitchen…the blood…’ She started to shake, tears filling her eyes.
‘Whoa. Easy now.’ Jarrod put his hands on her shoulders, leading her to a fallen log. He eased her down beside him. ‘Have you been here all night?’
She nodded, rubbing his hand with her thumb.
‘Hungry?’
She nodded again.
He dug into his pack and pulled out half a loaf of bread and a wedge of cheese. ‘Eat a bit first, then let it out slowly, one thing at a time.’
She took a few bites before she spoke, telling him what happened when she got home last night.
Jarrod gathered her up in his arms. ‘Dark demons, Kalindi. Your parents, Bethsay and John’ra? Even D’ran? They’re all dead?’
‘I don’t know, but I’m not going back.’ She wiped her cheek on his shoulder and shuddered.
Jarrod shook his head. ‘You don’t have to. But just think for a moment: who would have done such a thing?’
Kalindi swallowed her last bite. ‘John’ra’s been acting strangely ever since he decided to run for council.’ She packed up the remaining bread and cheese and handed it back to Jarrod. ‘He’s been very touchy.’
‘I remember. His last words to me were, Stay away from my daughter or I will run you out of town.’
She smiled, pushing his shoulder with the palm of her hand. ‘Not about that. John’ra’s never warmed to you, especially since he caught us sparring behind the barn.’
‘I said it’d be risky.’
‘You were right.’ She gave him a light smile before letting it fade. ‘What do I do now?’
‘You have to stay hidden, at least until we know more. Why don’t you take the bow and go south to the seagull cliffs? If anyone sees you, you’re just a girl out hunting. If someone’s after you, you’ll be armed.’
‘What about you?’
‘I’ll check out the estate and meet you at the cove before sunset.’
She closed her eyes and looked away. ‘They might still be there.’
He pulled her into his arms. ‘It’ll be all right. Just don’t let anyone spot you crossing the main road. No-one knows you’re here?’
Kalindi shook her head, pulling on her boots. She took the quiver and bow. ‘Did you bring matches?’ she asked.
He fished in his pocket and handed them over. ‘Take my short knife too.’ He pushed stray hair back from her face. ‘Do you need anything?’
‘If you get into the house?’
He nodded.
‘Can you get my hairbrush and coin purse, and my journal and pens?’
‘Top dresser drawer?’ he asked.
She smiled back. ‘And my wool coat, please. Oh, and my backpack. I left it on the swing-seat.’
‘I’ll get what I can and meet you before dark.’ He kissed her lips.
‘At the cove,’ she said.
Kalindi knelt in front of the kindling. The sea breeze had picked up, making the fire tricky to start. With dry kelp and a stack of twigs, she managed a smoke-covered glow. Cupping her hands around it, she blew gently until it crackled with a bright flame. She sat back, warming her hands and adding twigs and, finally, large chunks of driftwood. Convinced it would not go out she turned to a brace of rabbits she’d trapped. She skinned and gutted them, rinsing the meat in the sea before spitting them over the fire. She smiled. Jarrod would be pleased.
At the thought of him, Kalindi looked up the cliff. The sun had lowered towards the horizon and she didn’t like to think of him shimmying down the sheer face in the dark. She pushed wet tangles off her brow, spotting him on the headland a hundred feet above. He signalled to her, dropping some things over the edge before starting the descent. She ran to where they landed, scooping them into her arms. It was her winter wool coat, the quilt from her bed and a pouch of gold bigger than anything she had in her dresser drawer. Where did he get that?
He took his time climbing down, jumping the last ten feet
and landing lightly in front of her. He didn’t smile. He didn’t even look her in the eyes for more than a second.
‘Thanks,’ she said, clutching her things as they walked back towards the fire.
‘I’m going for a swim,’ he said, pulling off his sweater and unbuttoning his shirt.
‘Wait, Jarrod. Tell me what happened. What did you see?’
‘I won’t be long.’
She nodded and sat cross-legged in front of the fire, turning the spit while he stripped off his pants and disappeared towards the water.
He came back blue and shaking. Kalindi raised the spit and added more driftwood to the flames. They burst to life as Jarrod squatted in front of it, his naked back to the wind. Kalindi took the edge of her quilt and dried his shoulders and hair, the rich brown ringlets uncoiling and bouncing back.
‘Give me the news.’ She turned his face to hers and held it so he couldn’t look away. ‘It can’t be worse than what I imagine.’
He dropped his eyes and shook his head. ‘Let me get dressed…eat something.’
They sat side by side in front of the warm coals eating rabbit, bread and cheese.
‘Delicious,’ he said, tearing off bits of hot meat with his fingers and popping them into his already full mouth.
‘Now,’ Kalindi prompted, ‘you’re washed. You’re fed. Tell me what happened.’
Jarrod took a swig of water and wiped his mouth with his hand. ‘You aren’t going to like it.’
‘Get it over with then.’
He sighed. ‘I walked straight up to the gates as if it was any other day. At least, any other day that your father wasn’t around.’
‘And…’
‘Nothing moved in the paddocks. The fields were empty and there was no sound from the chicken yard. No dogs bolting out to lick me to death.’
‘Just like last night,’ Kalindi whispered. ‘Did you see Assalo?’
He shook his head. ‘Everything felt creepy. Things that you know should be there were missing.’ He pushed his hair from his face and looked at her. ‘The front doors were still open, so I went in.’
Kalindi shivered.
‘The place was empty, just like you said.’
‘The kitchen?’
‘Empty, except for the…’
‘The what?’
‘The splatters of dried blood everywhere. I looked in the sink, but it had been washed clean.’
Kalindi hugged her legs, staring at her feet.
‘I found the flour jar and got your mother’s stash of gold, ran upstairs for your things and left.’
‘How’d you know about the flour jar?’
‘I saw her one day through the window. She was making bread and counting coins.’
‘Lucky.’
‘You’re going to need it.’
She exhaled. ‘Luck, or the coins?’
‘Both.’ He took another swig of water.
‘Did you forget my backpack?’ she asked.
‘It wasn’t there.’ He rubbed his hands together over the fire. ‘I hid your gear by the side of the road and headed into town. I figured there’d be talk.’
‘Was there?’
‘Plenty. The rumour is that assassins from Corsanon murdered your whole family, stock, pets and poultry! The only things left alive were the pigs.’
Kalindi felt her eyes well up again. ‘Why?’
‘There was talk about your dad’s trade agreements; I didn’t get it. Maybe he was in debt. He could’ve owed the wrong people.’
Tears spilled over her cheeks. ‘I can’t go back,’ she whispered.
‘It seems you can’t, Kalindi. Not now.’ He put his arm around her and pulled her close. He held her as the sun slipped under the horizon.
‘Look at this,’ he said, fishing into his pocket. He dangled a silver chain. ‘I got your travelling charm.’
He leaned forward and clasped the turquoise stone around her neck. ‘And…’ He reached into his other pocket. ‘Your hairbrush. Can I?’
Kalindi nodded, undoing the knot of hair at the top of her head and letting her tangles fall to her waist.
His gentle brushing soothed her and she sighed. ‘What am I going to do now?’
‘The whole town thinks you’re dead,’ he said.
‘How’s that?’
‘They couldn’t find any bodies.’
Her eyes went wide and he snapped his mouth shut.
‘Just tell me,’ she said.
‘Kalindi, it looks like they fed the bodies to the pigs. No telling if anyone was missed out. But the assassins—if that’s who really did it—probably knew you weren’t there.’
‘Unless they didn’t know how many of us there were. My sisters are married off. They might have thought I was too.’
‘You’re sixteen, sweetheart.’
‘It’s old enough.’
Kalindi took a deep breath and stood up. She went down to the water and waited for the white foam to whoosh in towards her. She washed her hands and face and Jarrod stooped beside her, doing the same. Together, they walked back to the fire, wet hands entwined.
‘I think you’d best stay hidden.’
‘Me too. I could go north, to Dumarka. My mother’s friend lives there. She’s a Treeon witch. I’ve wanted to visit her for ages.’ She sucked in her breath. ‘I’d be safe there, don’t you think?’
Jarrod laughed. ‘I don’t know who you’re talking about, but if she’s a Treeon witch, you’ll be safe. Nothing can get to them.’
‘But Mamá had powers, and they got to her.’
‘She never practised.’
‘She did! She went to Treeon Temple too when she was younger. That’s where she met the Dumarkian witch, Nell. They trained together for a while. Mamá knew when things were going to happen. She had premonitions.’
‘So do you, but…’
Kalindi’s eyes welled up again as she stared into the fire. ‘But not this time.’
Jarrod rubbed her back. ‘Dumarka then?’
‘I’ve got more than enough money to get there. I’ll go in the morning. Not from Lister Bay, though.’
‘Not from the hub of Lividica,’ Jarrod agreed, letting his hand rest on her shoulder. ‘You can’t risk being seen.’
‘I’ll hike south to Flureon. I can get a clipper from there. Then it’s only a week’s sail to Dumarka.’
‘I’m coming with you.’
She faced him. ‘You can’t.’
‘I can and I will.’
‘Jarrod, listen. I have to go alone. If you disappear with me, it’s like sending out a message: Kalindi Matosh is still alive!’
‘I’m not letting you go alone.’
Her eyebrows went up. ‘Letting?’
‘I just meant…’
‘I know what you meant, but I have to slip away and you can never say where I’ve gone. You can never even say my name again. We can’t even think my name again. I have to change it. Kalindi Rose has to disappear, forever.’
Jarrod turned her hand in his and lifted it up to kiss her knuckles. ‘What name will you take? I need to know that at least, so I can find you.’
She shrugged her shoulders.
‘Rose?’ he suggested. ‘Your middle name is unknown to any outside your family and mine.’
‘Rose sounds like an old auntie.’
He laughed. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘What about Rosette?’
‘Ro-sette.’ He said the name slowly, turning it into two distinct syllables. ‘That’s beautiful.’
‘It’s done then. I’m Rosette. Rosette…de Santo. That’s a common enough family name in these parts. And, Jarrod, we’ve never met. You don’t know me, and Kalindi Matosh is dead. If you think of me, even in your dreams, you must call me Rosette.’
Jarrod buried his face in his hands. ‘I don’t want to be without you, Kalindi.’
She stared at him, eyes narrowing until he looked up.
‘I mean—Rosette. I don’t want to be without you
, Rosette.’
‘You have to. If they find me—if they think you know where I am—both of us are in danger. Can you see that?’
‘I can.’
He kissed her, long, slow and deep. He reached under her wool sweater and cupped her breast.
She stopped his hand. ‘Jarrod, there isn’t time. You’ve been out all day and, if you aren’t home soon, Liam will come looking for you with the dogs. He might be already searching, especially with wind of what’s happened. We can’t risk it.’
‘You wouldn’t trust Liam?’
She shook her head. ‘Not with this.’
‘You certainly let him…’
‘Jarrod, stop. I’m not going to see you for a long time. Don’t end it with an argument about me and your brother.’
Jarrod pulled his hand away from her warm skin and shook his head. ‘I don’t want to leave you.’
‘Me neither. Now go. Hurry.’
He got up, shouldered his bow and stared up at the cliffs. ‘When will I see you again?’
‘I don’t know.’ She handed him his pack.
‘Keep it. There’s still bread for the morning and water. Rosette, I…’
She stopped his words with a kiss, holding his face in her hands. ‘Don’t write to me. Don’t send any messages. It has to be like this. Promise?’
‘I promise.’ He buried his face in her hair. ‘I love you, Rosette de Santo.’
‘I love you too. Tell Liam…’
‘What?’
‘Tell Liam I’m dead.’
They held each other until Jarrod turned abruptly and jogged away. He would have to take the long way around now that it was dark. She hoped he would get home before they sent out a search party. At the rate he disappeared down the beach, she felt sure he would.
Rosette went back to the fire, tears welling again. She picked up a stick and jabbed the coals, making sparks dance like fireflies. What have you done, John’ra? What have you done to us all?
Rosette’s relationship with her father had never been smooth. A tension had lain in between them ever since she could remember. Maybe it had to do with the magic that flowed in her veins, an inheritance from her mother. The power had passed by her siblings to land full force on her, and it had made John’ra nervous.
