Ever Marked (The Claren Trilogy Book 1)

by Mary Akers

  “Who was that leaving just now?” she asked, looking up at her father.

  She noticed a furtive glance pass between her parents before he answered.

  “No one special,” he replied. “Just a man new to town and looking for work. It’s a good thing too. The South wall is crumbling in a few areas and we really need the help.”

  Elora nodded and looked down as she untied her laces. He was lying. She could tell. It was a convincing lie though. Her father managed construction and maintenance of the town facilities and the South Wall truly was in bad shape. But no one had ever come to their home in search of a job before, especially so late in the evening. What really gave him away though was the look that had passed between her parents. Considering they’d been hiding the truth from her for the entirety of her existence, it was surprising how terrible they were at lying.

  Elora made her way to the bathroom to wash her hands and run a wet cloth over her face and neck. She was greeted by an awkward silence upon her return, disrupted only by the sound of her mother setting out a plate full of food on the table. Elora took a seat and smiled appreciatively at her. Her appetite wasn’t what it had been a few minutes ago. She lifted a forkful of food to her lips and chewed slowly as the quiet stretched uncomfortably between them.

  At last her father cleared his throat.

  “I’m sorry, honey. I’m so tired. I think I’m going to turn in,” he said, rising from his seat on the sofa.

  “I think I’ll join him,” her mother said soon after. “I want to be well rested for tomorrow’s celebration!” she gushed with forced enthusiasm.

  Elora nodded and smiled at them as they retreated to their bedroom. She let out a disheartened sigh as their door clicked closed. This was miserable. They had run away to hide. They had been uncomfortable blatantly lying to her.

  “That should count for something at least,” she mused.

  She sat quietly picking at her food, weighted down by the thoughts swirling around in her head.

  “Who was that man really? Why did they lie about him?”

  “What would her parents think when they saw the courtyard?”

  “What would happen tomorrow?”

  Her dinner turned cold before her, forgotten in the fog of worry, confusion, and exhaustion. She finally stood, carrying her dishes into the kitchen where she scraped the remains of her meal into the compost bucket. She washed her plate and put it away before heading to her own room. Giving one last glance at her parents’ closed door, she turned and closed her own.

  Too exhausted for a bath, Elora shed her dirty work clothes into a pile on the floor, trading them for the nightgown she’d left draped across the footboard that morning. She pulled back the sheet and was about to climb into bed when she remembered her necklace. Reaching up, she undid the clasp and gently gathered it in the palm of her hand.

  The seed glinted in the light of her bedside lantern as she lifted it for a closer look. The silver strands that were embedded in the grooves of the seed had multiplied and spread during the course of the week. She had no doubt that this seed and her gift were related. The more she used her ability, the more the seed changed. The two were linked somehow. She closed her hand around the necklace and let out a deep sigh. How she wished she understood any of this. She pulled open the top drawer in her dresser and wrapped the necklace in a handkerchief before tucking it beneath a stack of underclothes.

  Elora extinguished the lantern and climbed into bed, pulling the sheet up to her chin. She stared up at the ceiling as her eyes adjusted to the darkness and troubling thoughts churned in her head. She struggled to squelch her negative feelings and focused instead on an image of Alysa and Trig with their arms bound together, eyes locked on one another, joy written on every feature of their faces. Tomorrow was not about her. Tomorrow was about them. It would be a good day.

  “Rise and shine Elora!”

  Trig’s boisterous voice pierced through the fog of her slumber and she jolted up, sitting amongst her covers and looking around in bemusement. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and gathered her senses.

  “Trig?” she asked confused.

  “I’m out here,” he called from outside the flap of her bedroom window. “I didn’t want to wake up everybody just to get your lazy bones out of bed.”

  “It’s barely sun up, Trig!” she exclaimed in irritation.

  “I know,” he said apologetically. “But my betrothed asked for me to fetch you on my way to her house this morning, and I’m not about to disappoint her today.”

  “Oh my gosh! How long does it take to put a dress on?” Elora groaned, falling back onto her pillow.

  “Apparently it takes 4 hours,” Trig replied bluntly.

  “Considering it’s Alysa, that actually sounds about right,” Elora admitted with a chuckle. “Alright. Give me a minute,” she called out.

  She quickly pulled on trousers and a tunic, slid on her work boots, and tied her hair back into a messy bun. She didn’t even glance in the mirror before slipping out of her bedroom and through the front door.

  Trig gave out a low whistle upon seeing her.

  “Looking stunning this morning Ms. Kerrick,” he teased.

  “Be quiet, you,” she fussed. “If I’m going to be ‘getting dressed’ for 4 hours at Alysa’s house, this is what she gets to start with.”

  “Fair enough,” he conceded. “Shall we?” he asked, crooking his arm to escort her.

  “We shall,” she smiled, grasping his arm as he led them through the front gate.

  They walked in amicable silence, enjoying the peacefulness of the morning. It was already warm despite the early hour and promised to be another hot day. The sun was quickly rising, burning off whatever remained of the morning dew as it turned the sky lovely hues of pink and orange.

  “Thank you, Elora,” Trig said earnestly, patting the hand that she had tucked in his elbow. “Thank you for being her Witness. Thank you for transforming the courtyard. Thank you for opening my eyes. Thank you for being such a true friend to both us. Just thank you. I can never repay you for the happiness you have brought into my life.”

  Elora couldn’t squeeze any words past the lump in her throat. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes and smiled, placing her hand over his.

  He shook his head in understanding, grunting to clear the emotion from his voice.

  “Do you think there is one last rose left on that rosebush?” he asked. “I owe her a rose for today.”

  Elora nodded and then turned her head abruptly as a man entered the road ahead coming from the direction of the stables. Her eyes widened as he came close enough to make out his features. She had never seen him before. He was tall and trim, dressed in tan trousers and a clean but well-worn white button down shirt. His dark blond hair was cut short and his face was clean shaven. His eyes were downturned as he walked at a determined clip. Elora could feel her heartbeat quicken as he neared them. Suddenly he lifted his head and his eyes locked onto Elora’s. They were light blue with a hint of green, like pools of water. She sucked in a breath involuntarily. Her brain seemed to stop working entirely. He was gorgeous.

  His eyes widened slightly as though he seemed to recognize Elora. He held her gaze unwaveringly as he passed within a few feet of her, and nodded in greeting. She was vaguely aware that Trig had nodded back in reply. She had been incapable of reacting, completely stunned by her attraction to him.

  “I’m betting you wished you’d primped a bit more this morning right about now,” Trig teased, nudging her with his elbow after the man had passed out of earshot.

  “What?” she asked, shaking her head in an attempt to restore brain function.

  “That guy was a looker. If I hadn’t already won over my Alysa, I’d be a bit panicked. Especially considering the affect he had on you,” he said, chuckling.

  “What are you talking about?
” Elora mumbled, her cheeks flushing bright pink in embarrassment.

  “I’ve never seen you so gob smacked, Elora. I think you might have even drooled a bit,” he joked, leaning down to inspect her chin.

  Elora shoved him away laughing.

  “Oh stop it!” she cried, reaching up to touch her messy bun before cringing. “Am I a mess, really?”

  “You didn’t even look in a mirror before you came out of the house, did you?” Trig said, shaking his head with a smile. “How on earth are you and Alysa best friends?” he mused.

  “We balance each other,” she replied, shrugging. “So, you’re saying I’m a total mess then,” she said with a groan. “The most attractive man I’ve ever seen in my life walks by and I’m a disaster. I have such amazing luck.”

  “Hey! Don’t say that,” he said defensively. “It’s not true. You’ve seen me nearly every day of your life.”

  “Oh my gosh, Trig! How is Alysa going to survive your terrible sense of humor?” she asked, looking heavenward in exasperation.

  “First off, she loves my sense of humor. Second, I wasn’t kidding. And third, you aren’t a disaster.”

  He looked at her earnestly.

  “You do look a little rough around the edges this morning, but it’s really hard to hide your particular kind of pretty, Elora. I mean, you could be covered in mud and still somehow be attractive. Come to think of it, you usually are covered in mud,” he said, his eyebrows raising wryly as he chuckled.

  Elora punched his shoulder in mock outrage, but she couldn’t help laughing because it was largely true.

  “Thank you, I think,” she said with a chuckle.

  “Kidding aside, that guy couldn’t take his eyes off you,” he said encouragingly.

  “Are you sure he wasn’t like, staring in disgust?” she asked.

  “Nope. I think I might have seen a little drool on his end too,” he said.

  Elora couldn’t help but grin at the thought that there might have been a mutual attraction. She wondered if he would be at the ceremony. Suddenly primping for the next four hours didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

  They walked quietly for a few minutes while Elora replayed the moment in her head. That man was truly the handsomest thing she’d ever seen. Where had he come from? Why was he here? Oh, how she hoped she would see him again. Perhaps at a time when she had put forth a little more effort to look nice. She tucked some loose hairs behind her ear, thinking about how wild she must look this morning.

  “I’m not really sure I believe you, Trig Davenport. I think my ‘kind of pretty’ is rather well hidden this morning,” she lamented. “Alysa would never have left the house in this condition. Hence her stack of proposals.”

  “Let’s not mention those,” Trig muttered. “I adore Alysa and think she’s the most beautiful creature on earth, as you well know,” he explained.

  Elora nodded and was about to voice her agreement when Trig held up his hand to quiet her.

  “But,” he continued, “you have a natural and earthy beauty about you Elora. Your kind of pretty is subtle and unrefined. You are pretty without even trying and apparently without even knowing.”

  Elora tucked her head to hide the blush his words had elicited.

  “Don’t compare yourself to Alysa. She is like a rose. You are like a wildflower. Both are beautiful in their own way. And that guy back there REALLY seemed to like wildflowers,” he said, nudging her with his shoulder.

  “Thank you Trig,” she smiled as her heart swelled with newfound confidence. “Speaking of roses…”

  They had rounded the corner and Elora’s rosebush came into view.

  “Oh wow,” Trig whispered. “It’s perfect.”

  He jogged forward and cupped the perfect bloom that had appeared the night before. He looked up at Elora with happiness and excitement in his eyes.

  “It’s almost as if the bush grew this rose just for her” he remarked.

  Elora smiled and nodded.

  “Perhaps it did,” she whispered.

  Trig laughed with joy as he pulled out his knife and cut the stem. He sliced off the thorns and gently twirled the flower between his fingers.

  “Incredible,” he said softly.

  “A rose for your rose,” Elora smiled.

  “A rose for my rose,” he agreed.

  Chapter 8

  Elora smiled at Alysa’s reflection in the mirror as she tenderly tucked the rose into the tangled braids of her intricate updo. It had taken Elora nearly an hour to plait and arrange Alysa’s thick dark hair just so. And another half hour to help her don the incredible dress her mother had sewn. Elora couldn’t help but laugh at the number of buttons. Trig was sure to appreciate that. But looking at her dear friend, Elora could hardly breathe.

  “You are the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen,” she whispered.

  “Don’t make me cry,” Alysa warned, shaking a finger at Elora.

  “No! No crying. At least not yet,” Elora teased, winking at her. “There’s just no way either of us will make it through this ceremony without tears.”

  Alysa turned away from the full-length mirror and held up a hand mirror to see the reflection of her back. She touched her updo gently, admiring the rose in her hair.

  “It’s perfect,” she breathed.

  “It really is,” Elora agreed.

  Alysa set down the mirror, took a deep breath and smoothed her hands over the dress. “I’m ready. Is it time yet?” she asked anxiously.

  “No, thank goodness,” Elora said, chuckling as she looked down at the white bathing robe she still wore.

  “Why? Oh!” Alysa’s hand flew to her mouth. “Well, get dressed already!” she cried, laughing.

  “It will only take a minute, don’t worry. There’s only the one button after all,” Elora joked as she retreated behind the screen. “My husband will be grateful for that someday. I can’t say the same for yours though! I think Trig might hold a grudge against your mother for that dress.”

  “There are an awful lot of buttons,” she agreed. “I do happen to be an expert seamstress though. I can always sew them back on should the challenge be too frustrating for him,” she giggled.

  Elora stuck her head back around the screen with her mouth agape.

  “Alysa! I never imagined such a scandalous thing would ever come from your lips!” she cried.

  “Well, there are a lot of buttons!” she cried in self-defense, a blush rising up her cheeks.

  Elora let out a gasp of surprise and collapsed into a fit of laughter.

  “Oh Alysa,” she said, wiping at the tears her laughter had wrought. “I will remember this moment forever! This day is just the best.”

  “It really is the best,” Alysa agreed, a smile stretching across her face.

  Elora came back around the screen wearing the beautiful dress Alysa had made for her. She slipped her feet into the delicate slippers Alysa had loaned her since she had none that were suitable. She walked over to the mirror to admire her reflection. Alysa came up behind her to fasten the single button at the base of her neck.

  “You truly are gifted,” Elora said softly as she fingered the intricate embroidery on her skirt.

  “Wait! There’s one more thing!” Alysa cried, walking out to the front hall.

  She came back quickly clutching a small bouquet of wildflowers.

  “Trig left these for you to wear in your hair,” she said, holding up the flowers.

  Elora smiled and a hint of tears glistened in her eyes.

  “He’s quite a person, you know,” she said. “I don’t think anyone else could deserve you.”

  “I know,” Alysa said, smiling at Elora’s reflection in the mirror as she began tucking the flowers amongst the chestnut braids of her loose updo. “There. Now you are perfect too.”

  Elora turned an
d wrapped her friend in a hug. “Thank you for letting me be a part of this special day.”

  “I couldn’t imagine it without you,” Alysa smiled. “Now, it probably really is time to go! I need to get my binding cord and then we can head over to the courtyard,” she called over her shoulder as she hurried to retrieve the cord from another room.

  While she was gone, Elora picked up the hand mirror and held it up to see the reflection of her back in the full-length mirror. She was touched by Trig’s gesture and wanted to see the wildflowers in her hair. She smiled at the sight of them. They suited her. But as her eyes moved down her reflection, the smile slid from her mouth. She sucked in a startled breath.

  Her birthmark had changed drastically. It no longer resembled a small brown seed. There was now a thin line extending from the seed several inches up her spine with what looked like a few delicate little branches extending from either side. It almost looked as though the seed were sprouting. She rubbed her eyes and blinked, trying to clear her vision. It couldn’t be. It was impossible. Her birthmark had transformed. There was no denying it.

  The markings were exquisite. They were beautiful. Elora stared at them, mesmerized with awe but also paralyzed with fear. How could she go out in public like this? Her heartbeat began thudding in her ears and she had to remind herself to breathe. What could she do?

  Alysa hadn’t said a word about it. It was impossible to miss and yet she hadn’t noticed. Just as before, she still couldn’t see it.

  “It’s invisible,” Elora reassured herself. “No one can see it. Pretend it isn’t there.”

  She could feel the panic welling up. Her breathing was rapid and uncontrolled, leaving her lightheaded. She was going to be sick. Putting down the mirror, she placed a hand over her stomach to try to quell a sudden surge of nausea. She looked around desperately for a solution, anxiously rubbing her forehead as she frantically searched the room. She could hear Alysa’s footsteps as she came down the stairs.

  Suddenly her eyes fell upon a scrap of white satin draped across the dress form in the corner of the room. Salvation! She rushed across the room, pulling the scrap free and held it up. It was a rectangle of fabric, simple and sheer, but long enough to serve as a wrap.