Extinction_Planet Urth

by Jennifer Martucci

  I want to snap at him and say, “Of course you know we’re overflowing with help because you eavesdropped on every word we exchanged!” but don’t. Today is a day of peace. I remind myself that peace is not merely a word, but an action. If I want peace, I must be peace. So instead I say in the sweetest voice I can muster, “Yes, that’s true. But how would it look if their leader isn’t there working alongside them?”

  “Oh man,” John exclaims. He kicks a tuft of weeds at his feet.

  “I’ll go back,” Sully says. “I’ll get things started and you can join us as soon as you’re done at the vineyard.”

  “Then the boys can stay and show Garan their weapons and enjoy the vineyard and we can accept the wonderful gift from Leo,” I agree.

  “Or, if you’re worried about your people not seeing their leader, you can return and work while Sully, the boys and I go to the vineyard,” Cadogan says with all the calm of a coiled snake.

  “And me. I’m coming, too. No matter who stays,” Garan adds.

  “Oh of course,” Cadogan says with cloying humility. “Of course you’ll accompany us, your highness.

  I think for a moment. I trust Prince Garan implicitly. Regardless of my misgivings about Cadogan, with Sully and Garan present to protect the children, I suppose my worry is unnecessary. Locking eyes with Cadogan, I say, “That’s a good idea. I’ll return to Cassowary and leave the boys here with Sully and Prince Garan.”

  “I’ll ride back with them personally. At least then I’ll have an excuse to be there and help.” The prince winks at me.

  I nod. “Fair enough.” I open my arms to William and John. “Get over here. Load me up,” I say. They immediately close the distance between us and fall into my arms. I hug them tightly together then individually. “I love you,” I whisper to each of them.

  “Love you, Mom,” John says.

  “I love you,” William says. He places a small kiss on my cheek before he joins his brother between Prince Garan and Sully.

  “What about me?” Sully asks.

  I shrug playfully. “What about you?”

  He frowns then bounds toward me, scooping me up like I’m a child and spinning. “I want hugs too you know,” he says in a growly, playful tone.

  Throwing my arms around his neck, I hug him tightly.

  “I love you, Avery,” he says in my ear.

  “I love you, too,” I reply.

  “I’ll be home soon,” he says as he lowers my feet to the ground.

  Home. Home isn’t a place. I’ve known that for as long as I can remember. Home is where the people you love are. Home is wherever Sully, John and William are. They are home.

  “Oh now I feel left out!” Prince Garan whines teasingly. He walks over with his head down as if he’s pouting and opens his arms. I hug him, too.

  “Ya big baby,” I mumble.

  Prince Garan laughs out loud. Cadogan looks on in horror. But the prince doesn’t care. “Oh Avery, that’s why I adore you!” he says. “I’ll take good care of your family. I promise.”

  “I know you will,” I say and I mean it. “I’ll see you guys at Cassowary in a few hours.”

  “Absolutely,” Prince Garan concurs.

  I wave my final goodbyes and turn, walking toward the now-loaded truck. I climb inside, my mind reeling around the seemingly endless list of tasks I must achieve in order to make the party a reality, and start the truck. As I drive out of the roofless space and through the dark tunnel, the image of Prince Garan and my family fades, and I’m gripped by a sudden wave of panic. I remind myself that I’ve been without them before, and that this is a happy day. A day celebrating a pact of peace. I trust Prince Garan and have no real cause to fret. Yet as the castle grows distant in my rearview mirror, deep in the marrow of my bones, a cold begins to spread. It diffuses throughout my body. And I realize I am filled with inexplicable but undeniable fear.

  Chapter 3

  The sun is slowly making its arc across the sky from east to west, dipping low. Low enough for me to realize that no matter how busy I’ve managed to keep myself, its position is a constant reminder that Sully and the boys have not retuned. It is a reminder of the feeling that I had when I left. A reminder of the feeling that persists despite my efforts to distract myself with party preparations.

  The party, as momentous of an event as it is, and how it commemorates the most important event in the history of Urthmen and humans thus far, seems insignificant without my family here. I’m worried. And my worry grows with each minute that passes.

  Clenching my jaw, I grind my molars so hard I feel as if the enamel will splinter. Pressure builds between my shoulder blades. It creeps up the back of my neck until it reaches my temples and pounds there. I ignore it though, lifting a pumpkin and setting it down beside a mum plant. The courtyard has been decorated simply but tastefully. Wooden tables and benches have been arranged with vibrant swaths of material covering them. Arrangements made of pinecones and orange and yellow flowers serve as centerpieces. Pumpkins alternate with mum plants and line the cobbled path that leads to the courtyard. Always a hub for bustling activity, the courtyard has been transformed to the scene of a massive celebration. One that I can’t seem to be enthused about no matter how hard I try.

  “Please come home,” I mutter under my breath to no one. A rush of emotion constricts my throat and tears burn my eyes. I lift my head and swipe at them with the back of my hand. I’m overreacting. I have to be. Nothing that I saw made me feel uneasy. Or did it? Instinct warned me at King Garan’s castle, whispering against the nape of my neck and raising the fine hairs there. But I discounted it to some extent. Now, as my tear-filled eyes scour the festive courtyard, I ask myself silently, “What if I was wrong to leave? What if I was wrong to leave my two young sons and husband behind? What if they’re in danger?”

  My heart hammers and my mouth goes dry. Something feels wrong. I sense it.

  In the distance, I see Oliver and Lark approaching. They’ve just walked beneath a trellis of carved wood. Interwoven through the intricate latticework are orange, yellow and red flowers tied together. It is the very same trellis under which they promised themselves to one another ten years ago. The same one under which Sully and I made that promise three years before them. The memory of both is bittersweet, though I can’t quite articulate why.

  Lark’s long hair is swept up into a ponytail and showcases her graceful neck, the late-summer rays bathing each strand with fiery highlights. Oliver is beside her. He has grown into an impressive man. With looks that are similar to his late brother, Will, he is tall and broad through his shoulders with bronze skin that looks perpetually sun kissed. His turquoise eyes meet mine and immediately his smile capsizes. He speeds their pace and is before me within seconds.

  “Avery.” Oliver says my name immediately. Clad in a button front shirt and dark pants, his brow lowers and his gaze grows intense. “What’s wrong?”

  I stall, unsure of exactly how to answer. Anything I say will not be based on anything tangible, just on a gut feeling. On fear. I don’t want to ruin what is supposed to be a joyous evening for them with worry that’s unfounded. They’re like family to me, though, so it’s hard to keep from sharing.

  “Nothing really,” I say.

  A crease forms between Lark’s eyebrows as they gather. “What is it, Avery?”

  “N-nothing. I’m sure it’s nothing. Just me being pulled in ten different directions today, I’m sure,” I reply as I massage my temples with my fingertips. “Sully and the boys aren’t back yet. They stayed behind with Garan and went to Cadogan’s brother’s vineyard for wine for the party.” Even as I say Cadogan’s name, an unmistakable yet inexplicable pit forms in my stomach. I don’t mention it to Oliver and Lark, however. Instead, I continue. “I thought they’d be back hours ago, but they’re not...” I leave my sentence unfinished.

  Relief smooths Lark’s features. “I’m sure they’ll be back any minute.”

  “Yeah,” Oliver agrees. “John and
Will probably convinced Garan to take them on some kind of adventure.” He chuckles, knowing all too well how much my boys love to explore every corner of their surroundings. “And they’re so cute no one can say no to them.” Oliver shrugs, the compliment rolling of his tongue so offhandedly it’s stated as if it is a fact not an opinion.

  I rake a hand through the front of my hair. “Thank you,” I say. “But Sully and Garan know that today’s a huge day. They know how much preparation and planning is going on.”

  “Yeah, but they can’t say no to John and Will,” Lark laughs.

  I wish I felt as lighthearted about it as she does. She’s right of course about Sully and Garan indulging the boys in time spent wandering about and learning all there is to learn about the places they visit. Under any other circumstances I’d accept what she’s said. But nothing about their absence feels right. And given the importance of tonight’s events, I’m confident that both Sully and Garan would be capable of withstanding the begging, and saying “no”.

  “I know,” I reply feebly. “I just hope he gets back soon. There’s still so much to do. It seems like this day is moving faster than any other.” I shake my head.

  “I know what you mean,” Oliver agrees. “I can’t wait until everything is done and we can just relax. Eat and drink and celebrate.” He places his hands on his hips and scans the courtyard. The setup has moved smoothly, minus what I’m feeling regarding Sully and our sons. Were it not for that, I would be elated with how well things went. But fearing for the safety and wellbeing of my children and husband has set me on edge. “I can’t believe how much we’ve accomplished, how far we’ve come.”

  I realize Oliver is speaking about the actual time, effort and energy that went into the celebration, but what he’s saying also speaks to the broader picture. The reason why we’re celebrating. Peace is not an easy feat. Especially not when factions have been warring so long the mutual hatred is practically engrained in either side’s DNA. For centuries, the Urthmen were spawned to hate humans. To eradicate us. And we were born with an innate fear of them as a result. Unraveling the tightly woven fabric of hatred and fear is a process, one that’s been successfully achieved.

  “We really have,” I reply.

  “You did a great job, Avery. You should be proud. Of everything,” Oliver adds. His eyes meet mine. The sincerity he conveys warms my cheeks.

  “Thank you. But everyone has worked hard. I’m just a small piece of the puzzle.”

  “Avery, without you, there wouldn’t be peace and there wouldn’t be a party. In fact, most of the people here wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you,” Oliver says.

  “I don’t know about all that,” I start, but Oliver stops me.

  “Well I do.” He smiles and raises his brow, playfully defying me to argue. “And I speak for everyone when I say we are grateful.”

  “Thank you, Oliver,” I say with genuine gratitude. I’m humbled by his words. The sentiments he’s just expressed merge with emotions already fraught with worry and the rest of what I want to say catches in my throat.

  “It’s the truth.” He shrugs.

  Lark smiles and nods. After a brief pause she says, “I guess we’d better get back to work.” She inhales deeply. The rich scent of herbs and meat are carried on the slight breeze. “Mmm. It’s going to be hard to work smelling that stew cooking!” Her smile widens, lighting her entire face. The expression is so lovely, yet all I can think of is how Cadogan’s smile didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. It died on his lips. Experience has taught me to be wary of a smile that dies on the lips. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving!” As if on cue, her stomach growls loudly. She laughs. “Oh gosh! How embarrassing! Excuse me.” A rosy hue tints her cheeks prettily.

  Laughing, Oliver says, “Sounds like a Lurker in your belly!” With both hands, he tickles her sides playfully. Lovingly.

  “I might just be as hungry as a Lurker so you’d better watch out,” she plays back at him, raising her hands and bending her fingers like claws.

  “Your Lurker wife will be fed soon enough.” I try to sound as cheerful as they do, but to my own ears I sound robotic.

  Oliver and Lark smile and laugh. “I think that’ll be my new nickname for you,” Oliver says. Then to Lark he gestures, waving her toward him as he turns to walk away. “Come my little Lurker. We need to get out of Avery’s way and get back to work.”

  Lark folds her arms across her chest, feigning annoyance. She doesn’t budge.

  Oliver, who’s already begun walking, stops and turns. “I guess I’m carrying you.” He smiles impishly and moves to sling her over his shoulder. Lark squeals and shoos him away.

  “Okay, okay! I’m coming!” She laughs. “See you soon, Avery,” she says to me.

  “See you in a little bit,” Oliver waves and smiles before turning and draping his arm over Lark’s shoulders.

  I watch as they make their way across the courtyard. When their shapes have disappeared, I allow my head to droop, my chin lowering to my chest and I release a sigh. I set about returning to the task at hand.

  I’m not sure how much time has passed but guess it’s been an hour when I can no longer continue with my chores. Sully and the children have not returned yet. It is beyond uncharacteristic of them and I can’t ignore the worry winding its way around my gut like barbwire. I inform the group nearest me that I am going to my residence to see if anyone has radioed from King Garan’s camp.

  Following the cobbled pathway I’m only vaguely aware of the buzz all around me. The excited chatter. The laughter. The sound of hammer strikes. The clack of wood being stacked. All of it fades. All I hear is my feet taking turns hitting the ground and the sound of my heartbeat until I reach my residence. Passing two guards near my front door, I inquire if anyone has heard from Sully or Prince Garan. No one has heard from them. My heart plummets, and I climb the staircase two at a time until I reach the second floor.

  “They aren’t back yet?” a voice asks.

  I spin and see June. Her hair is down instead of plaited in a braid that falls to the small of her back. Waves of bronze, gold and streaks of palest blonde spill like liquid sunlight to her waist. Her silvery-blue eyes, filled with their usual determination and focus, are tinged with worry. Still, she is the epitome of beauty. Of poise. She also happens to be one of the deadliest people in all of Cassowary. Coined the finest archer here many years ago, June has grown into a formidable woman. One whom I respect and admire in addition to loving unconditionally.

  “No, they’re not,” I reply. I do not bother trying to hide my worry from her. I rub my forehead. “It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t feel right.” I don’t need to elaborate. My sister understands my thoughts better than anyone I know. She’s also a worrier, just as I am.

  Leveling me with eyes as pale as ice over water, June says, “I don’t like this, Avery. Sully would never leave you to plan and set up alone. He’s one of the most responsible people I know. This isn’t like him.”

  “I agree. That’s why I’ve been worried sick all day. Honestly, I was worried the minute I left King Garan’s castle. Something about Cadogan didn’t sit well with me. But I just figured I was overreacting. Being overly protective of John and Will.”

  “You are very protective of them. And you’re a worrier. But you’ve got good instinct.” June’s hands are low near her thighs. I doubt she’s aware that she’s wringing them so hard that her biceps are bunching and flexing.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You’re not helping here. You’re supposed to talk me down. Talk me out of being such a mess,” I say only half kidding.

  “I’m sorry.” Her gaze drops and suddenly she looks half her age. She looks like the little girl who used to clumsily heft a wooden sword to train with me. Only now, willowy limbs that looked too frail to hold the sword have been replaced by cords of toned muscle. June looks and is strong and capable. When her eyes meet mine again, she says, “Garan is with them. That’s what m
akes me feel like maybe I’m worrying for no reason. Garan is the son of the King and has his army there with him. No one is messing with Garan. And if no one is messing with Garan, no one is messing with Sully and the boys.”

  She makes an excellent point. The irony of my reaction to all of this—my suspicion—is that it falls on a day when all of the suspicion should’ve fallen. Ten years is a long time of peace. Perhaps my suspicion is nothing more than a refusal to part with outdated thinking. A predisposition to judge and suspect when I should give the benefit of the doubt instead.

  “June, thank you,” I say. “You’re absolutely right. I’ve been a mess all day and in all likelihood for no reason whatsoever.”

  June smiles a smile that could brighten the sun. “Garan would never let anything happen to Sully, and certainly not the boys. They probably got wrapped up in something John and Will were over the moon and excited about and lost track of time.”

  I exhale and feel as if some of the weight I’ve carried all day has been alleviated. “Thanks June,” I say.

  “For what?” Her brow furrows and she cocks her head to one side.

  “For being the voice of reason. I made myself crazy all day. If I’d have just come and talked to you, I’d have been fine.” I make a sound somewhere between a chuff and a laugh.

  “You are fine. And the boys and Sully are fine. And the party is going to be fine.”

  “Fine? Not great?” I quirk a brow at her and ask.

  “Well no, not great,” June replies.

  I roll my hand forward to encourage elaboration.

  “Peter won’t be here. It won’t be the same without him.” June frowns.

  “I know,” I nod. “I wish he was coming, too. But with the new baby it would’ve been tough for him and his wife to travel.”

  Peter, the first Urthman I ever befriended, who was largely responsible for our survival and happens to be one of my best friends, married a few years ago. He and his wife just welcomed their first child into the world two days ago, which wouldn’t be a problem if he stilled lived in Cassowary. But since he lives in a small town about three hours away, attending the party isn’t a possibility.