by Ryan Muree
He wanted to do whatever she needed. Help her sisters, have some silly private dinner with Brynntial, help Nida escape, chase away anyone who looked her way with disgust. She deserved so much more.
“You’re—” Her eyelids dropped. “You’re welcome.”
“Will I see you tomorrow?” He hadn’t meant for it to come out so desperate.
She smiled as she slowly backed away. Had she wanted to linger there longer with him? Closer? “Tomorrow. Yes, of course, I’ll come see you tomorrow.”
CHAPTER 11
Rowec had been lounging on a bright purple chaise, tossing some sort of round, red egg in the air and catching it, for at least an hour.
There were only a couple weeks left until the ceremony, and his stupid brother still hadn’t made his way back to even try to rescue him.
But the more he thought about it, the more thankful he was that his brother hadn’t arrived yet. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go.
No. I want to go home, but…
Not yet.
He wanted Nida to leave, too, but she wouldn’t want to leave before the ceremony. If his brothers showed up before the hatching, he couldn’t tell them to wait a few weeks at the temple, and it wasn’t exactly the best idea to tell them to turn around and come all the way back in a few weeks, either. Then again, having an army of Zchi warriors arriving at Brynntial’s temple would probably help him convince her of his release after the ceremony.
He groaned and put the egg down before he crushed it out of frustration.
Checking the moon through the holes in the ceiling, it was clear it had gotten late. Much later than any other time Nida had visited. Where could she be? Maybe Drathella had stopped her, or that other one that seemed nicer—Ascara?
Etta had surrounded herself with plenty of other women to keep her occupied, but that was mostly to let them obsess over how she looked. Maybe even Tialans fell prey to the same worries. He chuckled thinking about them fretting over their scales.
Still no Nida. Not even the footsteps or the little chatter of the younger Tialans running off to do chores. Even the hall seemed more silent than normal.
He made for the exit and poked his head out.
His guards weren’t there. In fact, the halls were entirely empty. Not one sound echoed up the corridor. Where had they gone? Maybe they assumed Nida would be there?
Ascara had mentioned that his room was near the hatchery, hadn’t she?
He could go look and not take too many turns. He’d have to memorize the path he made, but he should be able to manage, considering he wasn’t running for his life this time.
He inched out of his room toward the right side. The golden hall went on for about thirty feet and turned a sharp left. No other options, he poked his head around the corner.
All clear. Not a spirit around.
He considered calling out, but that would be dumb. The last thing he needed was some screaming Tialans when they realized he was snooping around. He’d be locked back down in the cell for sure.
He stepped carefully down the only hall to the left, ears tuned to the sound of anyone coming, until he was presented with a choice to turn right or keep going straight.
Straight ahead was the same old corridor as all the others. To his right, two large golden doors carved with swirls of reptiles with long tails and wings intertwined with flowers waited. If he had just happened on the temple, he’d assume there was treasure behind those doors. No one builds something that fancy to block a regular old room with boring stuff inside.
He scanned the halls one last time for anyone who might be coming and headed for the decorated doors. Hands against the cool, shiny rock, he pressed until a mechanism clicked and the bottom of the door swung open.
A new scent hit him immediately. Sweet and aromatic like the scented oils the village women traded with one another. He stepped inside, inhaling the smell of fresh flowers, but had to watch his feet around vines and leaves.
The door clicked behind him.
He glanced up and found himself in an indoor garden with hundreds of white, luminescent bulbs sprawled along the floor. Each one was pulsing in the moonlight pouring in from the small opening in the center. A Tialan, happily talking to herself as she bent over the flowers, popped up and faced him.
“Nida?”
“Rowec! What are you doing here?” She hopped around the vines and buds to close the distance between them. “You shouldn’t be here. You need to leave!”
“I thought you were coming to visit me.”
She acted as if she might push him out. Instead, she stopped and stared up at him with big teal eyes.
“I was, but I got tied up with Ascara. I was hurrying to do this before I came to you.”
“I’m sorry—”
“How did you get here? What happened to the guards?” She was panting, her voice barely registering above a whisper, so he lowered his.
“They were gone. No one was there.” He glanced around again, the large white buds pulling his attention. “Is this the hatchery? These are your sisters?”
She looked around the room and then back at him with a palm smoothing back the hair near her eyes. “Yes, but—”
“They’re beautiful.” He slowly stepped around the foliage to the nearest bud and knelt. He placed his ear against one, feeling the warmth against his cheek and hearing the pulse of something inside. Twice the width and height of his hand, he placed his palm against the closed petals.
Something knocked from inside.
“What? What was that?”
She sighed and knelt beside him. “Rowec, my unborn sisters. Sisters, this is Rowec.”
How was this possible? “But you’re not flowers. You’re rep—” His eyes met hers. Maybe it was better not to finish that sentence.
“We might be Tialans, but we’re descendants of the first Life Weavers. Before us, were… well, plants. Plants were the first Life Weavers, taking energy and materializing things from the sun.”
He had heard of this before, but it was in ancient texts and supposed myths. Lousha had all the Conductors at one time. It had been the birthplace of all Conducting. His people never bothered to learn how or why since they couldn’t do it themselves. Today, only Fire Breathers lived in Lousha, though there were rumors of Wind Speakers and Water Shapers in other lands. But Life Weavers as plants?
“That’s not… that’s not—”
“Possible? But it is, and I’m their keeper.”
He shook his head and reached for the bud again. “There’s life in every one of these? A—”
“Tialan-human heiress? Yes, in every one.” She slowly circled the garden, caressing buds as she passed. “Our queens used to find a Tialan mate, then courted him, all things you’d expect. But the males died out. All the buds have come out female for several generations. We’ve been forced to seek out a mate for the queen every hatching, and humans are plentiful.”
He lifted his gaze to meet hers from across the garden.
She shrugged a shoulder. “Honestly, Brynn should have found someone suitable a long time ago. Someone understanding and willing. But she didn’t. We’re running out of time because Brynn was hard-headed and didn’t want to gain any favor with humans.”
He ran his palms around another bud, cradling the weight. It thrummed with heat, with light, with a— “Is that a heartbeat?”
She nodded.
It was… incredible. Remarkable. Life literally blossoming in his hands. A living, breathing, magical creature waiting to be born.
“Want to help?” She moved to a mechanical arm protruding from the wall.
“What does that do?”
“Come find out.”
He stepped over the vines and even more carefully around the buds, opposite her at the lever. “Lift it?”
“Yes.”
It took a little effort to push it up with both hands, but it slid into place several inches higher with a click.
The ceiling rumbled and slid apart in
to several pieces, expanding the opening to allow all of the moonlight to beam down onto the indoor garden.
Okay, some of her sisters needed to work on their bedside manner, but this place was a miracle. Even he couldn’t dispute that.
“It’s beautiful,” he murmured.
“It’s officially called The Sanctuary, but most of us just call it the hatchery.”
“Which one will be a queen? Or is that something you won’t know until after they grow up?”
She half-laughed. “Actually, it was decided by first budding.”
First budding? She says that like it’s normal. “So, which one?”
She paced around the edge, eyes roving over the hundreds of buds. “Well, see, that’s the thing—”
He squinted at her, but she wouldn’t look him in the eye.
“Right now, the queen is that one.” She pointed to the bud in the very center soaking up the most moonlight. “Last night, it was that one.” She pointed across the room to one in a darkened corner.
“I don’t get it.”
“So, the more moonlight, sunlight, and water, you get while budding makes you a better Tialan.”
He stared at her.
“Makes you more Tialan.”
Oh.
“Ensures you are less… human… after the human helps with the ceremony.”
He nodded once. “I see. But you’re moving them?”
She nodded, finally meeting his gaze. “I’m not supposed to. But I didn’t think it was fair that the queen should get the most of everything while others sat in the dark, waiting to feel different once they’re born.” She crossed her arms. “I just keep moving them around so they all get an equal chance. The day they hatch, it’ll be completely random. They can decide who will be queen when they’re older.” She stood beside him, solid, sure. “If Brynn had been a little more realistic, we could have had better relations with humans. Our species may have never been in danger. But because of where she grew, she makes all the decisions and could have doomed us all. And…”
“And?”
“And this is why I can’t leave until they’re born. I want to see that they make it, that we won’t die out, and that they get a real chance at equality.”
She had seen the flaws in the system, her own sister leeching off power and control from a society that needed balance and love, as well as connections with the outside world to survive. And here, she had scavenged power her sisters didn’t even know she had. She was playing with the outcome of the next generation right beneath their noses. And he respected it.
“Which one was originally the queen?” he asked.
She bit her lip, peered around, and pointed to one bud among a cluster receiving very little moonlight. “I’m not sure. I’ve done it every night. Maybe that one.”
He stepped through the garden to the one bud currently in the center. He put his hands around its waxy petals. She joined him.
“And if I don’t…”
She flattened her lips. “They die,” she whispered. “No other sisters will ever bud again. We’ll become extinct.”
He swallowed. An entire species would die? “How often do you get… new sisters?”
“I’ve only been alive for one hatching, but I was little. The queen and her mate were so in love, they left to explore Lousha together after.”
His gaze lifted to hers.
“Brynn was the next queen in line. Since you’re not in love with each other, I imagine Brynn will stay queen until one of these is old enough to take over.”
“And the last queen and her mate made these buds?”
She giggled. “No. The jungle did.”
The what?
“We nourish and help the jungle, and it provides the buds for us. The queen and her mate just bloom them.”
He swallowed. “How often does the jungle… give you… the, uh, buds?”
“The jungle decides. These took several years after the last hatching to show up.”
“And how long have you been caring for them?”
Her eyes roamed lovingly over the closed petals, petting and soothing them. “Seven years. I was only fifteen when Brynn gave me this job.”
His jaw dropped. “Seven? Seven years? And they all hatch in about a week?”
Her fingers grazed over his hands, still pressed against the bud. “With your help.”
His heart thudded. His palms itched to smooth her soft hair, radiant in the blue glow.
Even if his brother showed up tomorrow, there’d be no way he could just leave Nida’s future sisters behind. He’d have to go through with the ceremony—he wanted to go through with it.
No wonder they’d caged him. They were desperate. No wonder Nida had saved him in the jungle during his escape.
But it wasn’t just the future Tialans he worried about. He worried for Nida. She needed this, too. She wanted to give them equality, and she deserved to see her plan through. Her cause was just, thoughtful. She deserved to be happy. She deserved everything.
His fingers smoothed over hers. “Nida, I want you to know that no matter what, I’ll stay for the ceremony.”
She threaded her fingers through his. Though they had the bud between them, their hands were together. They were holding hands, and spirits, did he want to hold her.
“Why do you say it like that?”
He took a deep breath. “I’m worried. My brother swore he’d come back for me. I thought he’d be back by now, but if they come, I’m not leaving until the ceremony. I want to help you. Not Brynntial. Not Drathella. I want to help you.”
She smiled. “Rowec, I don’t know what to say.”
He bent forward, focused on the light pink of her lips. The taste of her right there.
She cleared her throat and pulled back. “I’m sorry, I have to… I want to… We need to get you back to your room.”
So close. She had been so close.
She had to feel the same way, didn’t she? She had threaded her fingers through his hands and had leaned in, as well. She… needed to know how he felt.
There was that festival she’d mentioned coming soon. She’d said he was the guest of honor. Maybe he could tell her then.
“Help me,” she said, calling his attention from his daydream. She had begun to slide the vines and buds around the room. “Move them. Just be careful and move them around.”
“But—”
“Be quick. I’m already behind.”
He glanced around the room. Where should he start?
“Get moving!”
He grabbed the most center bud and moved her out of the moonlight. “Sorry.”
No matter how many he shuffled around, he feared they’d tip over or tear. But they moved fairly easily without any mishaps.
He reached around a smallish bud, a runt compared to the others, and gently pushed her to the very center. “There you go, little one. Grow big and strong.”
The door slammed open.
“What in the world are you doing?” Drathella’s voice boomed into the chamber.
CHAPTER 12
Nida jerked upright. Her stomach turned over. Oh no.
“What were you doing? You wretched little slitherskin!” Drathella glided across the floor at record speed with a hand lifted to smack her across the face.
Nida curled away and squeezed her eyes shut. She heard a slap but felt nothing.
She dared to open one eye. Drathella’s hand hovered inches from her face.
Rowec had caught Drathella by the wrist, his body tall and strong before her. His fingers had wrapped all the way around her sister’s wrist and froze her in place.
Without a word he’d stepped between them, commanding Drathella’s full attention. Nida had to peer around him to see her sister’s reaction. If it wasn’t the most awkward moment already, it would have been hilarious. A full-blooded human touching Drathella. Her bulging eyes, her dropping jaw. Even if Nida paid for it later, this made it worth it.
“Let go of me, you fil
th!” Drathella squawked.
Rowec didn’t move.
“Get out of my way, human. This doesn’t concern you,” she snarled.
“On the contrary, I believe this room has everything to do with me.” His tone was dark, deep, and laced with warning. “Isn’t that why I’m here?”
