But the shepherds, if they resented Ode, did not resort to calling him names. Most were older men and women who were naturally quiet and withdrawn, and they kept their comments to themselves. Ode swapped places with one of their members and, after a few trial shifts over a period of days, he was finally permitted to watch the sheep at night. There had been more killings recently and the team were disheartened. The lead shepherd, a woman with white hair and brown eyes named Leai, sent Ode to his shift that evening with a warning that should a pack of wolves attack, Ode must be on his guard. It would not do to play the hero and lose his life.
Ode took his time finding a suitable perch for the evening. He had become accustomed to the mountainside across the valley where the yaks grazed, developing his own particular seats that he enjoyed, seats settled into the crevices of rocks or cocooned by scrubby bushes. He was unfamiliar with the curving of the land here and it took a while to become comfortable in the fading light. Arrow was forced to stay back and slither through the undergrowth since the sheep would scatter in a panic if they so much as sensed him near.
The cupped valley began to darken, as if the light were being poured out of it, and the coolness of nighttime arrived. The mountains were notoriously cold after sundown—even in the early summer—and Ode wrapped his fur coat tightly around himself. He was seated on an overhanging rock with the sheep grazing below and he could see the peaceful quietness of the valley stretching out before them. There were pinpricks of light from the huts of workers across the mountainside and in the valley, like yellow stitches in black velvet. He imagined the groups of men and women he knew from his days working in the fields, sharing stories after dinner at the temple, gathered around the fire with mending in their laps or a bucket of peas to shell. He had often seen them collected like that in groups, and he had always wondered why it could not be like that with the herders. Those who watched the livestock all seemed distant and separate.
Ode looked across the valley to the Castle Temple, with its glowing blaze of lights, cut into the rock. He would swap even the groups of men and women gathered around the fires in the valley to be in the temple surrounded by the Kins and Kinesses. Inside those red walls, life seemed so pure. Ode had often been sent to the temple in the evenings to complete odd jobs, and he had noted the pleasant evening hush that descended as the sun faded from the sky. The younger Kins and Kinesses would retreat to their dormitories to practice their prayers, watched over by the older members. Candles would alight as many wandered off in groups to read scripture together while the moon steadily soared into the sky. And Ode wanted to be among them. He wanted it desperately—he wanted it too much.
Ode pulled himself off his perch and trudged down the mountainside to collect some sheep that had drifted away. He gathered the herd back together, then returned to his post. His mind often wandered while he watched over the animals and he speculated, not for the first time, whether that was the very reason the High-Kin had placed him there. It would be too easy to muddle along in the valley with the friendly groups of workers and to never have the time or the space to contemplate the gods.
Ode rarely thought of the Taone or his past life if he could help it. The memories were too painful and too distant. Sometimes during ceremonies, when the Kins and Kinesses prayed, he would mutter about Cala and Blue Moon, asking for their safety and protection, but he would not let himself think too long on such things. These days, he made a conscious effort to push them from his mind. He did not often think of his Magic, either, and he suspected that it had all but disappeared. Sometimes he caught himself wondering if he really ever did transform into a bird. He certainly felt no desire to do so anymore.
Hunched on the rock, Ode looked up to the vast sky. It was black and flat now, scattered with stars like freckles. Ode wondered if there were eyes watching him; he wondered if he was not alone.
If you are the gods then tell me to join the temple, he pleaded.
Around him the lights of the huts were gradually extinguished as the workers fell asleep. Opposite, the temple was fading to a pale glow as many went to their beds and only those intending to pray or read into the night kept their candles flickering.
Send me a sign, please, Ode prayed. Show me what I must do.
Arrow growled and Ode’s eyes snapped open.
Ode could just barely see his wolf’s crouched, gray form in the moonlight, hackles high and mouth pulled back in a snarl. The sheep had heard the sound and were beginning to run away—round shadows disappearing down the mountainside. Ode clenched his jaw and felt for the dagger tucked into his boot. He wondered if it was the pack of mountain wolves everyone had been chattering about at mealtimes. His heart began to hammer at the thought.
Arrow’s growl grew louder and deeper as Ode edged off his rock and stood behind his companion. His fingers folded around the handle of his dagger. Though he sometimes practiced the fighting he and Blue Moon had once trained for together, he knew that the reality of a battle was different and he was afraid.
Ode crept a little closer and held the dagger high, poised ready for a fight, but it was not a pack of wolves he saw. His held breath whooshed out in a gasp, and he almost stumbled. Before him in the moonlight was a snow leopard. He knew that it must be the infamous mountain beast, for there was a painting of one in the temple. He also knew that they were rare. Erek had told him that he would most likely live his whole life in the mountains and never set eyes on such a creature. But before him now was an animal with a long, squat body and silvery fur marked with black rings. Its head was small and its tail long. It had piercing blue eyes, and it stood frozen, one of its large front paws lifted.
Arrow’s growl exploded into a bark and he leaped off his haunches at the snow leopard. The two collided with screams of rage and snapped and scratched at each other. Their roars tore through the quiet of the night and Ode felt sure the whole mountainside must be awoken. The two animals fought fiercely on their hind legs before the leopard swiped Arrow away with its great claws. The wolf was knocked back with a whine and a line of blood stained his fur. Ode saw the leopard get ready to pounce and he instinctively ran forward, his knife in his hands.
“No!”
Ode stepped but one pace before a flash of red leaped from the shadows and jumped onto him.
He felt the knife in his hand tear at something. There was the sound of ripping before Ode fell against the rocks with a groan of pain, the knife knocked from his grasp. He looked up to see a small figure with a red cloak scrambling through the darkness. He knew instantly that it must be a Kiness, for the knife had cut her headscarf in two and it was falling away.
“Jet!” she cried, and the leopard responded with a purr.
But Ode scarcely noticed, for he was looking at her hair. As the headscarf dropped away, a tumble of thick, golden waves like the dazzling blaze of the sun escaped down her back. He heard her cry in alarm, and he saw her snatching for the scraps of material to cover herself. He wanted to call out to her, but he was mesmerized by the luminous shine she emitted.
In an instant, she had disappeared, fading into the night. The leopard followed, and Arrow growled after it. Ode, meanwhile, was left with sunbeams in his eyes and his heart stolen like some kind of Magic.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The Kiness
There were no sheep killings that night. Once Ode had recovered from his moonlit encounter, he stumbled down the mountainside to collect the panicked sheep, relieved that none were missing. Arrow’s cut was not deep and only his dignity suffered a lasting wound. Once he had allowed Ode to fuss over him and clean his injury, he retreated to the undergrowth, growling quietly to himself.
For the rest of the night, Ode sat in a daze. He watched the sun slowly stretch over the peaks of the distant purple mountains and he saw bright yellow light fall into the valley, but he barely noticed. He could think of nothing but the Kiness he had seen and the beautiful radiance of her golden hair.
When Leai came to relieve him tha
t morning, she saw that none of the sheep had been taken and could not contain her amazement. She patted Ode on the back and congratulated his skill, but Ode said nothing.
“I be hearing an almighty uproar in the night,” she said. “That be you fighting off the wolves?”
Ode nodded dumbly, for he did not know what else to say.
“You be a blessing for us,” she said.
Ode felt like a fraud, so he bowed his head.
But even once he had retreated to the wooden hut to rest for the morning, he could not forget the Kiness. He tried to eat, but he was not hungry, and he tried to sleep, but he could not, due to the spangles of golden light that danced across his vision when he closed his eyes.
That evening, he followed the other workers from the valley up the steps to the temple for supper, but his thoughts were elsewhere. When the yak herders hissed jibes at his back, he did not notice, and when one of the milkmaids tried to share a joke with him, he looked back at her blankly. Inside the eating hall, he scanned the crowd for the golden-haired Kiness, but if she was there, he could not see her.
Ode was sulky and preoccupied throughout dinner. He let Erek chatter away beside him and grunted occasionally to pretend he was listening, but he did not register what the Kin said. Spooning hot broth into his mouth, Ode looked up often, studying all of the Kinesses in his line of sight and prompting some of them to frown back at him. He felt sure that if she were there, he would just know; her unrivalled beauty would radiate from her. Once the meal finished, a crowd gathered around him to offer congratulations for his successful night fighting away the wolves.
“You be a hero!”
“If you be watching our herds then they be safe!”
Ode stared at his hands and tried to ignore the glares from the yak herders, who were making faces at him from the other side of the room.
“I barely did anything,” he answered truthfully, but the crowd all shook their heads and chided him for being so modest.
At the first opportunity, Ode slipped away, leaving the crowd still huddled and babbling in the eating hall. He hurried across one of the courtyards, his sandals scuffing the flagstones, and disappeared down a quiet, dim hallway with a sigh of relief.
“Psst!”
Ode jumped and peered into a shadowed room beside him. He could just about see the outline of a person crouched against the wall.
“Come in, and pull the curtain across!”
It was her. Ode’s heart pumped in his chest. He darted into the room and pulled the velvet curtain across the doorway so fast that Arrow was left stranded on the other side, growling.
“You be telling your wolf to be quiet?” she said, her voice like the soft gush of a stream. “We be found if he nay quiet.”
Ode’s throat was suddenly dry and he just nodded dumbly.
“Well, be getting on with it then!”
“Hush,” Ode croaked at the curtain, and Arrow quieted on the other side with a disgruntled snort.
“That be better,” said the Kiness.
As Ode’s eyes adjusted to the darkened room, he saw that it was indeed the girl he had met last night—the one who had been bathed in moonlight. She wore a red cloak neatly tied over a shapeless brown dress, but even that could not detract from her astonishing beauty. She was small, fair, and graceful, with delicate features and large blue eyes. A line of neat, careful stitches curved across the pale fabric of her headdress where it had been sewn back together.
“I be having to say I tore it myself,” she said, noticing him looking at it. “The High-Kiness nay believe me truly, but she be too busy to bother much.”
Ode simply nodded.
“I be seeing you run out of the eating hall and I rushed down the other hallway to catch you. I be hearing them all around you in the hall talking about last night….”
The girl bit down on her full, red lip and her blue eyes grew worried as she paused, waiting for him to answer.
“I … I didn’t tell anyone,” Ode sputtered eventually.
“Praise be to the gods!”
The girl raised her hands toward the ceiling and collapsed against one of the many desks in the room, clearly in relief. They were in a temple classroom, normally full of young Kins and Kinesses learning their scripture during the day.
“You know that Jet was nay ever going to hurt the sheep, yes?” she quickly added. “You know that we was trying to protect them?”
Ode nodded vaguely, staring at her headdress again. He longed to see the golden shine of her hair folded beneath the pale tucks. He could still remember it, flashing like a glittering ray of sunshine.
“You will nay tell the High-Kin or High-Kiness any of this … will you?”
Ode paused. He desperately wanted to please her, but he did not like the idea of keeping secrets from the High-Kin or High-Kiness. He did not want to deceive those who had given him so much.
“Why were you there?” he asked finally.
“To protect the sheep, like I be saying.”
“But, why did you have a snow leopard with you? And aren’t all Kins and Kinesses supposed to stay in the temple after dark?”
The Kiness kneaded her long, elegant fingers together. The more Ode looked at her, the more he became convinced that she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He had to stop himself from reaching out to touch her cheek; he longed to know if its shining, pearly luster was real.
“Jet is my … friend. I found her many seasons ago, and I be only able to see her at night when it’s dark and the others asleep.”
“The snow leopard is your companion?”
“Yes.”
“Kins and Kinesses don’t have companions!”
“You have a wolf, do you not?” the Kiness faltered and quickly corrected herself. “I mean, you be having a wolf, yes?”
“Why did you just—” began Ode, frowning.
“I be leaving now,” she interrupted, still twisting her fingers. “I be having to go or else they be wondering where I am. Just be promising me that you nay be telling anyone. I nay know what would happen if it was all found out. I be only trying to help.”
The girl gave him a beseeching look as she gathered herself together, and Ode felt panic bloom in his chest. He did not want her to go. He wanted them to talk in this classroom all night.
“I won’t tell,” he said recklessly.
“Thank you,” she whispered, then overwhelmed him with a sweet smile that made his cheeks flame red.
“But what is your name?” he cried as she pulled back the curtain from the doorway to leave. “Please,” he added, when he saw her deliberating.
“My name is Briar,” she answered softly, at last.
“Briar,” he repeated.
And then, with another shimmering smile, she was gone.
All night, Ode felt as if he were floating among the purple mountaintops. He could not sleep, all he could do was dream of Briar. He was sure that he must never have set eyes on her before, for he surely would have been struck instantly by her beauty. There were many Kinesses at the temple and they were always coming and going, so it was possible that their paths had never crossed. But if he had never seen her, then he hoped desperately that none of the other boys or men working in the valley had either. Sometimes he heard the yak herders laughing and joking about the milkmaids or the Kinesses. He did not like the way they talked and the thought of them snickering over Briar made him furious. At one point in the night, he sat bolt upright and punched his pillow, so overcome by the very thought of it.
In the early hours of the next morning, he finally drifted into a light, fitful sleep, plagued by thoughts of golden hair that burned like the summer sun and blue eyes as calm and deep as a lake. He awoke to fervent voices barking orders and a fluttering sensation in his chest. His first thoughts were of Briar and he gazed around the room with a dopey grin.
“Glad someone be looking so happy,” said the shepherd in the bed next to him. “You not be hearing the news yet, th
en.”
Ode quickly wiped the smile off his face and listened as the others told him about the massacre during the night. The wolves had come again and destroyed almost a quarter of the flock. The shepherd on duty had tried to stop them and had been injured in his efforts. He had only managed to save his own life by leaping down the mountainside and hiding in a crevice.
“I know it be not your turn to look after the sheep again, Ode,” said Leai, her face appearing worn with worry. “But will you take the night shift this evening?”
Ode nodded.
That morning in the eating hall, the night’s killings were all anyone could talk about. The room vibrated with gory details and scandal. Ode, however, had other thoughts on his mind and he looked for Briar everywhere. He loitered around the crowds of young Kinesses, and he scrutinized every headdress that passed, but he did not see her. He was on his second lap of the eating hall when Erek called him over.
“There always be a seat next to me for you, you knows that. Why you be walking around the hall looking for spaces?” Erek asked.
Ode mumbled something about not noticing him and finally sat down, feeling gloomy. If he could not see Briar at mealtimes, when could he see her? He did not know what he would do if he never set eyes on her again; he could not even bear the thought.
“Those wolf killings on your mind?” asked Erek quietly.
Ode nodded, because that seemed as good a reason as any for his remoteness.
“Thought that be it,” said the Kin, slurping his water. “Your wolf be acting strange, too.”
Ode looked at Arrow, who was staring intently back at him. All night the wolf had nudged him and growled as Ode tossed and turned in his bed.
“I reckon they put out a few shepherds tonight to watch over the flock so you nay need to worry, yes?”
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