Up, higher and higher she went. The wind stung her face and whipped her hair about her head. Her blonde locks turned wavy at the disruption. “There we go!” she huffed with one last lunge into the air.
Perched on top of a branch as thick as her body, she straddled it and let her robes fly behind her in the wind. The air felt crisp and refreshed her skin, and the view started to have some appeal to it.
Her town grew small from so high up and made Lessa yearn for the sky. She savored the quiet the height gifted her. Here, she felt the most alive, like she could momentarily fly. Still, reality squeezed at her fantasy. No matter how high she climbed, she never cleared the talons of Blancoren.
This depressing thought brought her mind to the present, and she began to scoop large prillyberries into a basket that was latched around her shoulder. The berries felt ripe to the touch, plump with the delectable juice which made for good medicines.
After a long time of gathering, she heard a branch crack above her. By reflex, she turned on guard, feeling her presence joined with another high up in the wayward sky.
She peered around the vast trunk of the tree the best she could without losing balance. Another disrupted branch gave a crackle that rippled through the quietness of the Field. Her ears perked up at the unwelcome sound. This time it seemed to be coming from above.
She scanned the canopy of the tree and saw nothing. The branches above looked much too thin to challenge her weight but sparse enough for her to see around them. She knew the intruder evaded her keen eyes, making her feel caught off-guard. Lessa played the shadows to her advantage; no one ever played them against her before. An unsettling feeling warned her to be cautious. Whatever shared her tree seemed neither bird nor kindred spirit.
“Who’s there?” she called to the wind in a wary voice. The howling breeze stole her words as a light snow shifted from the canopy, trickling into a swirl around her body. There, again at her back, she heard the rustling of branches. She caught a berry fallen from a twig from the disturbance. Glancing up, she saw the snow brushed clean off a limb by whatever watched her.
She steadied the basket on the branch she straddled, grabbing hold of a thinner one up top. It strained at her tug but held its own as she pulled her body to a standing position. She gripped tight to the thick twig in case she lost her foothold. Leaning around the huge compass of the trunk as much as she could manage, her body pumped with anxiety.
As she positioned herself to peer around the tree, a pair of huge orange eyes gleamed only inches from her face. Lessa’s heart stopped at the sight and a scream hitched in her throat. Her body lurched back at the sudden shock, and she lost her footing on the tree.
Her boots tried to cling to the icy branch as she felt her body sway, struggling to balance. No use. The cracking of wood rippled through the silence, her weight pulling too much on the tiny branch she clung to.
She felt the rush of air at her back as she fell towards the ground. Her limbs flailed all around her. The scream caught in her throat released at full force, ripping through the peaceful silence. The basket of prillyberries cascaded down alongside her.
Moments before she felt the ground at her back, she noticed the same pair of large, peachy eyes glaring down after her. As she crashed to the earth, the prillyberries rained down alongside her, surrounding her crippled body in a sinister sight of red juices. Lessa’s hair tangled about her face as she felt a single tear roll from her eye. Then, the blurry scene vanished to black.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SUNDAY
“But it’s been weeks!” said Arianna. “I’m absolutely losing my mind. Please, I want out of this cage.”
“You know we can’t take such a risk,” said Solomon. “I’ve confided to General Ivo that you’ve only barely survived. He thinks you’re still bedridden, but I assured them Cyn and I could have you able enough to perform in the Free Falls. You can still have a fair shot.”
Arianna feigned listening, tired of this speech. She knew that the general would be all too happy to throw her body in the Pit, regardless if she was still clinging to life, since she had lost the Warrior’s Challenge. If not for Solomon, the regulators would have come for her already. Of course, she was thankful, but she wanted out of her training quarters.
Solomon’s mouth pressed into a firm line. “With the exception of me, Cyn, and the general, the entire district believes you to be dead,” said Solomon, clasping his hands behind his back as he lectured on. “If you were to be seen, we would all be beheaded for disloyalty. General Ivo wants no mention of you until the festivals. He can’t have it known that he’s permitting the existence of someone weak enough to be on the brink of death. It’s against the morale that feeds the city, and he won’t have it tarnished. If I hadn’t vouched for your full recovery, he would’ve already tossed you to the Pit. You’ll just have to stick out a few more weeks,” he said, rejecting her many pleas. “You should consider yourself lucky after all you’ve been through. Be more optimistic, Ara.” He patted her on the head.
“Easy for you to say!” she said, swatting away his hand. “You’re not rotting away in the shadows.” She scoffed, folding her arms.
“I’m always in the shadows! See?” He pinched at his dark skin, throwing his head back in uncontrollable laughter. Arianna couldn’t help but feel her lips tweak up in an unwelcome smile, but it quickly vanished.
“What of my friends? Liam should know I’m not lying at the bottom of the Pit right now.”
“No, it’s too risky. I’m sorry,” he said. “He grieves for you now, but you can mend that relationship later.”
He seemed sincere, but it didn’t soothe Arianna’s anger.
“Ara, your bed is comfortable, your food is fresh, you have access to your training facilities at every hour, and you’re away from the prying eyes of your rivals. You’re dead to them! Imagine the uproar you’ll cause when you step out at the Free Falls Festivals with vengeance on your plate.” He pulled her chin up in his grasp, his look thoughtful. “Just hang in there. Your lessons are done for the day. You’re free to do as you please inside these chambers,” he said. He narrowed his gaze, challenging her to defy him.
She slumped, resigned by his commands.
“You should study the material Talis has generously left for you,” he said. “You’ve barely glanced at any. He sent word that he wouldn’t return for quite some time… some sort of an emergency,” said Solomon, shrugging his shoulders.
Arianna assessed the stack of yellow-paged scrolls Talis brought from his own library. He offered them in an attempt to sway her beliefs. She idly wondered how the parchments came to be in his possession in the first place.
From her skimming, the scrolls told more stories of an enchanted world before King Devlindor’s crowning, but the tales stretched her sanity too far. The real questions she wanted answers to stemmed from how her body healed from such devastating wounds. She supposed it due to the master healer. Although, he still claimed to be a “sorcerer of sorts.”
Of course, her small, meek world spread a little wider with these tales of ancient magic, these bizarre children’s stories. Even if any of it proved true, stories of the past meant nothing to her future. She rubbed at her eyes, her vision clouded in the dim light. She cared nothing of the scrolls. She just wanted out so the fresh air could sort her mind.
Her eyes followed Solomon as he shrugged into his cloak, the red and white complimenting his skin. The trimming skimmed the floor when he laced up his boots, and he padded to the door. “See you tomorrow,” he said as he slipped out. Arianna wanted to scream, left alone again as the Jar tightened its grip even more on her freedom.
She woke later, buried in a pile of mold-smelling scrolls. She hadn’t really retained anything she read and felt groggy as she longed for the outdoors.
Glancing in the cracked mirror near the weaponry, she pushed the tangles from her face. As she observed her figure, she noticed she had grown a bit, curved out more. Her muscles felt ripe an
d ready as she moved her hands up and down her body, touching the crevices of soft skin.
A pale shade claimed her normally tan color, and she frowned as a strange feeling tugged at her heart, longing for the freedom to wander around inside the mountains she hated so much. She clenched her fists, her sanity straining to stay with her. Never before had she imagined any freedom within the mountain walls.
“That’s it!” She gasped as a dangerous thought occurred to her. “The mountains…”
She patted the empty sheath at her thigh and resolved upon her next move. The long snowstorm had finally subsided, so she wouldn’t have that to cover her. Her idea was risky, but excitement rushed through her veins and washed away her reason.
Pulling on her comfy leather boots, she wrapped her cloak around her body and tightened her hood about her face. She looked out of the window. Night fell, but she still heard people bustling about, and curfew hadn’t passed yet.
She slipped out of the door and left the training room behind. The cool outside air energized her as she let her nose sniff at the icy wind. It smelled like blood, mud and sweat, and she welcomed the familiar scent. Basking in the glorious chill of wind on her skin, the feeling exhilarated her, renewing her body and soul as a deep respect for the outside world settled in her gut. She wouldn’t take it for granted again.
Gazing around, she saw most of her peers already left the Dueling Arena. Only a few slaves still practiced. Their wooden swords splintered and cracked with repeated blows, so the slaves paid no mind to Arianna. She moved around them, quickening her footsteps.
Poking her head around the still open gate, she gathered her courage and stepped forth into the street among all of her fellow soldiers. She longed to make a conversation, maybe with Noah or Liam even. Solomon would have her head on his sword if she did… or maybe General Ivo. She decided against it.
With her hood hanging well over her face, she kept her head down and eyes averted. Slipping past the Square, memories of her lost battle flashed before her eyes, making her wince.
All of the sudden, the familiar voice of Pippa somewhere near trickled to her ears, and she turned to see her seated on the stone stairs. “Any idea who might be your next competitor, Risso?” she asked in a shrill voice.
Arianna’s eyes perked at the mention of her adversary’s name. What is she doing with Grinda? Only morbid answers came to mind.
It seemed Pippa perceived her lack of talent as detrimental to her future with the festivals nearing so close. Perhaps she took to this rough crowd for support? Arianna dipped her head, wishing to pull her to safety from the snake-pit.
Grinda bared her horsey teeth at Pippa before the large backhand of a curly-haired boy came down hard on her face. “Red Risso has no competitors!” he spat. The rest of her cronies laughed.
“Quite right,” said Grinda, rubbing a nasty scar on her face. “I buried little Ara in the dust. Or have you forgotten? Now, unless you know of someone else that needs exterminated, maybe a squeaky, peasant-girl such as yourself… please do shut up.” Pippa quivered under her threat.
Arianna’s fists clenched at the mention of her name. She fought every urge not to reveal herself as she gritted her teeth. Then, she remembered that the last time she followed her hasty ego… she died, so she turned away. Winding further up the twisting roads, she left the group and poor Pippa behind.
Soon she found herself crouched below a familiar space. Placing her hand on the cold center stone, it fell inward. Careful to go unnoticed, she slid into her secret space.
Starting her way down the dark tunnel which forever burned golden and copper by way of the firebugs, she soon found herself sucking in the warm air that encircled her in a welcoming clutch. The warmth resonated throughout her body, making her feel more alive than ever. The mouth of the large tavern enveloped her as she spun in circles, savoring her momentary freedom.
She deemed her secret utopia sacred in her mind. Then, a thought occurred to her; her revered hot springs were not as clandestine as she used to believe. A blurred memory of a beautiful blonde who steered an arrow at her chest made her heartbeat quicken.
In all honesty, she had a shared secret utopia… but with whom? She felt quite uncertain. With so much commotion since the night of her encounter with the ‘ghost girl’, Arianna hadn’t the time to give her much thought. Now her mind cleared, ready to solve the mystery put on hold.
Before long, she shrunk out of her robes and kicked her shoes to the side of the swirling pools, pondering the origin of the girl. The water looked enticing. It cascaded down in front of her in thick strings of blue and white, making warm sprays shower her like a welcome rain.
She dived in, head first, letting the waters engulf her in a liquid paradise. Kicking her feet, she plunged back up towards the surface and broke through the ripples in one fierce thrust.
For a moment, she just floated there. She let the comfort enrapture her physically and mentally, but soon the reminiscences of her lost dagger broke through her satiated mind. She waded towards the looming emerald-tinted rock. It stood just as firm and steady as the day the girl had cornered her.
When she reached it, the firebugs took golden flight at her intrusive touch and entwined her in soft, golden light. As she watched nature at play, she felt transported to the moment of her first encounter with the girl who played in the shadows. “Let the water claim your weapon, or I’ll claim your life,” she had warned.
Arianna laughed at the recollection, shocked once again at being accosted in her own secret getaway. Now, after all that had happened since, she seemed almost pleased at the encounter. She imagined the outside world must not be as dull as she once assumed. Lessa showed her it still held a lot of mystery, and Talis and Solomon were constantly trying to force her mind even wider.
For what seemed like an hour, she searched near the spot her dagger had fallen. Her eyes combed the still, glass waters until she was certain it was gone.
Exasperated and saddened by the sure loss of her precious weapon, she made her way to the shore of the warm pools. As she clambered out and squeezed some of the water from her kinky hair, she couldn’t help but glance longingly towards the tunnels. Lessa Thur had disappeared down one of them, and part of Arianna hoped her to return, bow and arrows and all.
She resolved to offer her hand in peace if they should ever meet again. After all, if that girl found her way to this cave of wonders, then she must have been hiding from something too. She’s a slave just like me. How different can we be? Regardless of the would-be answer to her speculations, Arianna wanted to find out for herself.
She wandered towards the tunnels, regarding the magnificent structures. Tilting her head, she gaped at the crowning mouths of the various passages. Where do you lead?
Of the six tunnels looming before her, something caught her eye in the center where she stood. This entrance opened a bit smaller in comparison to the rest but still vast in its own deception. She advanced a few paces and tilted her head in disbelief.
Jolting forward, she ran into the passage. She knelt to the floor just below the hovering stalactites of the entryway. There, in plain sight, lay her beloved dagger. It dazzled in the light of the firebugs as if put on a display.
She turned it over in her fingers, basking in its unfathomable beauty before securing it back in the sheath at her thigh. Her skin still dripped with water, and she wore only coverings on her chest and hips, but with the added weight of her dagger, the cold steel on her flesh made her feel complete. She laughed, feeling that the discovery granted her a twinge of release at the giant lump of stress building up in her chest after the last month.
She glanced at the place where she found her dagger and her eyes noticed something more. A piece of folded parchment lay in the same spot. Arianna lifted the paper and unfolded it, her eagerness tearing a small rip in the soft sheet. The paper felt a bit dampened and worn but still comprehensible. The rip scratched through Arianna’s name, but she knew it to be addressed to her.
Scanning the flawlessly-inked letters, she only took a moment to admire the attractive calligraphy before she began to read:
Dear Belvedor—Slave girl of Warrior’s District,
I realize I bid a most hasty farewell. I do wish to apologize for my rudeness, but my time was up, as I’m sure you well know. I can’t imagine that the rules differ much in your district. That being said, I feel I must also give my apologies for how we met… precaution was needed in the circumstances. After much thought, I realize I am too intrigued to care about the consequences of our meeting, and I would like to possibly meet you again. I understand that this is a daunting task for us both with all of the penances facing us, but, if you’re up for it, I’m curious enough to try. After all, you are the first slave I’ve ever met outside of my district.
At that moment, Arianna knew she must see this girl again. It seemed like they shared the same mind. The possibility of another meeting elated her in every way. She continued to read:
Please, do me this kindness and accept my apologies. Meet me here if you are able. I will return every Sunday around the same time as we met since I have no way of knowing when you might see this. Also, please accept your dagger as peace-offering. It seems a precious possession, and I’m sure you must be fond of it.
In hopes that we meet again,
Lessa Thur
Slave girl of Healer’s District
“Damn!” said Arianna, slapping her hand to her face. The water on her skin made the contact sting and she winced.
How many Sundays have already passed? She started counting in her head but became muddled. Time seemed so foggy since she’d been locked up in her dungeon of a room.
A revelation struck her, “Wait a minute! There was hardly anyone on the streets when I left. People were lounging in the Square. Today must be Sunday!” Her voice echoed off the walls of the cavern.
Belvedor and the Four Corners (Belvedor Saga Book 1) Page 10
