Gradually, the snow began to soften and melt. In the Room of the Gods, everyone prayed for spring, and in the courtyards of the temple, a persistent drip-drip sounded as the ice on the roof trickled away. Winter ended, and the voices in Ode’s head began.
He was walking between classrooms one morning when he heard a shout. He stopped and looked around, causing a group of young Kinesses to knock into him. They exploded into giggles and scurried off, snickering to one another. Ode ignored them and looked up and down the hallway. He was sure that he had heard something, but there was no one else around. He shivered, although he was not cold, and went on his way.
Later that day, a voice spoke to him. In one of the temple’s reading rooms, where the older Kins and Kinesses retreated to study, a low muttering began to vibrate in his ear. Around him, Kins and Kinesses sat cross-legged at low tables, scriptures spread before them and chests of scrolls at their sides. They were all silent and Ode realized they could not hear the voice. The scripture he had been reading swam before his eyes, and he clutched his head, breathing deeply. For a moment, he panicked, fearing he was about to shift as the voice continued to chatter away. Trying not to attract attention, he slid his hand beneath his shirt and touched the white feather. Its bristles were burning and the voice in his ear grew louder, though he still could not make out what it said.
A furry muzzle nudged his elbow, and Ode jumped. The voice disappeared and he looked down to see Arrow staring back at him. Ode briskly wiped his hand across his damp forehead and began gathering up his things. He had meant to stay in the reading room all afternoon, but he felt nervous and sick.
Once in the hallway, he wondered if he should go for a walk to shift alone, but there was a strong wind blowing and his legs were trembling. He blinked rapidly and showers of color burst across his vision. He had not felt like this since his illness in the Wild Lands.
Battling dizziness, Ode shuffled through the temple to his dormitory. It was a clean, bare room in a hallway of identical rooms with rows of beds and scuffed, green walls. At this time of day, it was empty, and he crawled into his bed, barely managing to pull off his furs and boots before climbing beneath the blankets. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he fell unconscious and almost immediately, a dream began.
In his dream there was a man he had not seen before. The man was tall and strong with brown hair and dark, haunted eyes. He looked as if he had once been handsome, but now his face was twisted and angry. It was only as he crossed a dimly lit room to a table strewn with scrolls that Ode realized the man’s right leg was wooden from the knee down. It tapped against the grimy floorboards.
There was a knock at the door and the man grimaced. By the small, round window in the corner, Ode guessed they must be on a boat.
“Yes?” the man barked.
A slight, blond boy entered. “Captain, a gull has brought a message,” he said.
“What does it say?”
“The Scarlet Isles have agreed to the terms of the Magical Cleansing.”
“We knew that was going to happen,” growled the man. “They have never been Magic sympathetic.”
“And the Hillands are rallying. They have formed an army larger than expected from exiles in the Wild Lands.”
The man paused and rubbed his eyes. “My cousin always was full of surprises,” he said, with a slow smile.
The vision vanished, and Ode awoke suddenly to the sound of hushed voices and running feet. The ship cabin and the man with the wooden leg were gone, and he was in his bed at the temple once more. His blankets were soaked with sweat and his head buzzed with the dregs of the vision. He sat up to see a huddle of Kins near the door, arguing in low voices. The shutters at the windows were closed and the room was dark.
“What’s going on?” he mumbled.
The Kins rarely said an angry word to one another and Ode did not think he had ever heard a group arguing before. A few turned at his voice, but no one replied. They looked tense.
Ode swung his legs to the floor and shuffled across the room, his mind still reeling from the vision. He lifted his hand to his forehead and felt his burning, feverish skin. He knew his vision meant something important, but he could not understand what it was.
“There be state officials in the temple,” one of the younger Kins whispered when Ode was close enough. “They be coming into the mountains to tell us the news. They be arriving just this afternoon without any warning.”
“Officials?”
“Soldiers from the main island.”
“What do they want?” asked Ode. “What’s the news that they bring?”
“War,” said the young Kin, and he looked excited and terrified at once.
A crowd of red cloaks marched past the doorway and Ode caught sight of a familiar face.
“Erek!” he called.
His friend paused, but he did not wear his usual cheerful smile.
“Come back!” a young Kin squeaked as Ode slid into the bustling hallway. “We be told to stay in our rooms!”
“I need to be going,” said Erek, standing aside to let a crowd of mature Kins pass. “I can nay stop to talk.”
“I’ve been lying sick with a fever,” said Ode. “I’ve only just woken, and I don’t know what’s going on. Why is everyone so afraid?”
“There be nothing to fear,” the Kin replied firmly.
“People are speaking of war….”
It was a nasty word that conjured memories of the Wild Lands. For a second, Ode saw the broken, limp body of his father in the dust.
“If the peoples be warring then it is nay to do with the temple. We be for the gods and nothing else. It nay be our decision what the Scarlet Isles be choosing to do. I say it again, there nay be anything to worry over.”
“Is this to do with the Magical Cleansing?” asked Ode, remembering what Asha and the professor had said to him long ago.
Erek’s face drew taut, and he glanced at Arrow.
“I be needing to go,” he said. “I think it be best if you stay in here and out of the officials’ sight.”
Ode watched as his friend turned and disappeared down the hall.
No one in the temple slept that night. Everyone huddled in groups around flickering candles, whispering and waiting. It was shocking to all that the state officials had come so far into the mountains without sending messenger eagles ahead. To have gone to such an effort must mean the news was of deadly importance.
By morning everyone knew: the Magical Cleansing had come to the Scarlet Isles. As the sun rose over the mountains, it was carried in mutters through the temple rooms. When the Kins, Kinesses, and workers in the valley were called into the eating hall for a meeting before breakfast, the audience already knew the announcement. For the first time since The Red Wars, the Scarlet Isles were to join forces with their neighboring countries in the Western Realm. They were going to fight the Magics.
Standing on wooden crates at the head of the eating hall, the High-Kin and High-Kiness attempted to explain the news. Worried, tired faces stared back at them and officials were stationed in a corner, watching. There were ten of them, all dressed in uniforms of gray, which looked a little worse for wear after the journey through the mountains. It was difficult not to notice the sabers dangling from their waists and the rifles slung across their shoulders. They were young and they had the pale skin and fair hair of the Scarletions.
“We be separate from the affairs of the kingdom,” said the High-Kin. “We all be knowing that, but … we be the Castle Temple, too, the royal temple and still akin to the Scarlet Isles. We must be living by their authority.”
Ode saw those around him shift uncomfortably from foot to foot. The only authority the temple was supposed to bow to was the gods’.
“The royal family be granting us this island for our temples, for they be great followers of the gods,” said the High-Kiness in a thin voice. “So it be right that we give back to them if we can.”
Her words produced more fidgeting among
the crowd.
“From now on, I be wanting us all to keep the Western Realm in our prayers,” said the High-Kin. “Of course, we always be praying for the health of our king and kingdom, but we be praying now for strength and success in the fight, too.”
There was a click as one of the officials played with the hilt of his saber.
“The king be knowing how devout we be, and he be sending these officials here to … watch over us,” the High-Kin carried on. “They be stationed here for a while to keep us safe and be living with us.”
There was an audible intake of breath from the crowd. The officials looked around with blank, expressionless faces. Ode almost thought it would have been better if they had smirked or grinned menacingly. As it was, they did not seem human.
“Because of the war, we be taking a view against Magic,” the High-Kiness said. “The Castle Temple be always following the king, and we be never supporting Magics before, but now …” Her voice betrayed her and trembled before she finished in a rush, “Now, we be praying for their defeat and their deaths.”
The hairs on the back of Ode’s neck rose and he saw those around him flinch. No one at the temple ever spoke of Magic, and he wondered how the other Kins and Kinesses felt hearing such news.
“There be nothing for us to fear,” the High-Kin continued. “We be making sure we are a support to our kingdom in its time of need….”
A hand touched Ode’s arm, and he jumped.
“I be leading you out of here,” muttered Erek under his breath. “Be following me and do nay draw attention to yourself.”
Ode was about to argue that the meeting had not finished, but the Kin had already moved away. Ode weaved through the crowd after him, Arrow sliding and twisting between sets of legs like Ode’s shadow. Out of the eating hall, the trio walked down hallways and across courtyards to the Kins’ chambers. They slipped inside a dormitory and Erek pulled the curtain across the doorway. The beds in the room were unmade and there were guttering candles dribbling wax onto the floor from a night of whispers and excitement.
“When I be bringing you to these mountains, I be thinking I brought you to a better place,” said the Kin.
“You did,” replied Ode. “If it weren’t for you, I would have died.”
The Kin shook his head. “Nay, you be in danger now.”
“Why?” said Ode, struggling to keep his voice light.
“I nay be meeting a man before that had a wolf as a pet. There be something strange about that.”
There was a beat of silence.
“Does everyone in the temple suspect me?” Ode finally asked.
“Before they be thinking you a Wildlander and that seemed to make sense. But now things be changing. The temple will become a different place.”
“What should I do?”
“Just now you must be laying low, away from the officials. The wolf must be kept outside so it be nay bringing attention to you.”
Ode glanced down at Arrow, who was watching their conversation with his green eyes as if he could understand what they were saying.
“I’m not sure that’s possible,” he said.
“It be the only way,” replied the Kin firmly. “These officials be nay lying when they say they want Magics dead. It be The Red Wars all over again—Pervorocco, Daric, and the Scarlet Isles joining together to wipe out Magic.”
“But they lost that war, didn’t they?” Ode had picked up some vague understanding of history from his afternoon readings with Erek. He knew The Red Wars had ravaged the Western Realm many, many seasons ago, and that those involved had vowed such a thing would never happen again.
“They lost, yes, but there be many dead,” said Erek. “And I be nay wanting you to die.”
“Why?” asked Ode suddenly.
Erek had always been a comforter and a friend. Ode knew he could rely on the Kin for anything, but there was something determined about his face now that struck Ode as unusual.
“Why?” he persisted when he received no reply.
“You came to me like a gift from the gods,” said Erek at last. “And they be telling me ever since to watch over you.”
Ode wanted to tell the Kin that he was wrong. He was a lowly birther—a poor boy from the Wild Lands. He had been praying to the gods and they had never answered him. He was of no consequence.
“I believe you be chosen by the gods,” said Erek. “I believe you be having a destiny.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The High-Kiness’s Secret
Overnight, it seemed, the Castle Temple transformed. No longer was it a comfort to its occupants—a refuge and a place of peace. Officials prowled the hallways day and night. They claimed a suite of rooms for themselves and carried out frequent searches whenever they pleased. At the ceremonies in the Room of the Gods each evening, they stood watch, their arms folded and their rifles winking in the light of the candles. The Kins and Kinesses did their best to act normal, but none could pretend they were not afraid.
Winter became spring, but the arrival of sunny days and bright breezes did not bring the usual smile to Ode’s face. Like everyone at the Castle Temple, he felt tense and drawn. Mealtimes were quiet and strained affairs in which Kins and Kinesses tried to finish their food as quickly as possible under the supervision of gray uniforms. Lessons were conducted in hushed voices with fervent glances at the door, in case a search was suddenly announced. It seemed as if everyone was waiting for something terrible to happen.
The rising pressure at the temple scared Ode, but his separation from Arrow worried him most of all. He felt lost and alone without his companion by his side. Ode knew that it was safer this way, but it did not make waking each morning without Arrow’s familiar shaggy body sprawled at his feet any easier. He crept away often to visit his wolf, who had to be shut away in a hut in the valley, where it was hoped the officials would not think to go snooping. Each time Ode arrived, Arrow would almost knock him over with excitement, and every time he left, the wolf would howl with anguish. No matter how long they were apart, Ode found that it did not get easier.
His classes had been suspended under Erek’s insistence, so his days were long, endless expanses of nothing. He lurked around the temple, trying to stay out of the officials’ way. He snuck off to see Arrow as often as he could, but still he was bored and aimless. The High-Kin and High-Kiness were under constant supervision, so Ode could not go to them for guidance. Instead, Erek acted as a mediator, carrying messages back and forth between them when he attended meetings with the temple elders.
“The elders be saying they think you should be leaving,” he muttered one spring day.
Ode and Erek stood outside the front of the temple, the valley dropping away before them, then soaring again in jagged waves on the other side. The prayer wheels were tinkling as a yak herder descended the stone steps, spinning the barrels as he went, and their chimes rang across the rocks. At the entrance to the temple were two officials, watching everything with flat, dark eyes.
“But you said before that wouldn’t work,” Ode whispered back. “You said there would be no way to escape without attracting their attention.”
“We be thinking you be attracting their attention more if you stay. They becoming interested in everyone.”
Ode tugged at his red cloak. Erek had given it to him the day after the officials arrived so he might blend in with everyone at the temple. He had always wanted a red cloak, but under these circumstances, he found it did not hold the same value it once had.
“If I did go … where would I go?” he asked. “I don’t know these mountains.”
Erek sighed and pretended to point at something in the valley. The two of them were supposed to be discussing crops. That is what they had told the officials before they stepped outside.
“You be just having to go somewhere,” he said. “Let me speak with the elders and we be seeing what we can do. But be ready to leave at any time.”
Ode could not believe this was happening
again. He had escaped one country threatened by the Magical Cleansing, and now he was about to be forced from another. If the gods had brought him here for a reason, as Erek believed, then what was it? These days he had too much time on his hands, and he brooded over his past often. If he was not thinking of such things, he was worrying about Briar. Though she had rejected him, and though he had not seen her since that fateful meeting, he could not help himself. He hoped that, wherever she was, the officials had not found her. He prayed she was safe.
At night he continued to dream. His visions were incoherent, jumbled images that flashed through his mind. He saw blood and death and red flowers. He wondered what it all meant, and he worried that he would not find out until it was too late.
But it was not only Ode who suffered from the presence of the officials. The Kins and Kinesses, who had always been gentle and kind to one another, were now snappy and irritable. They were afraid, and their fear made them harsh. Ode saw one of the officials push over an old Kin who was carrying plates across a courtyard. Whether he did it on purpose or by accident, it was difficult to tell, but the old Kin fell and the plates clattered against the flagstones, some smashing. No one came to help. The old Kin lay for a long time on the flagstones, groaning softly and clutching his ankle. Ode wanted to go to him, but the official stood watch, almost daring anyone to come near. Instead, the other Kins simply walked by and the old Kin was left to get up on his own.
The officials knocked people over often and it soon became apparent that these were not accidents. Ode witnessed a Kiness tripped in a hallway and he saw a little Kin shoved aside in the eating hall. These small acts of violence stunned the people of the temple into silence. They hated what they saw, but they felt powerless. So their anger turned to each other. Bickering broke out often at ceremonies and in dormitories. Everyone began looking for reasons to argue, and Ode knew it would not be long before they turned on him. He could feel the Kins in his dormitory watching his comings and goings. They knew that there was something odd about him, and they could see that his wolf had disappeared. They did not ask him questions, but Ode felt them quietly seething behind his back. They needed someone to blame for what was happening at the temple, and he was an easy target.
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