by A. G. Henley
The Teachers take their evening meals and share snippets of information about the girl. She is not called Kaiya; they never learned her given name. They feel the daughters adjust to the Cloister more easily with a new name, one like our own.
"A good student," says one Teacher.
"And a strong fighter," says another.
But there is a hesitation in their voices and faces.
"What is it?" I ask.
They exchange glances.
"She is unhappy."
"She does not embrace our ways."
"Give the girl time," Grimma says jovially over her cup at the table next to ours.
The Teachers agree, but a look passes between them again as if they have seen this before and it did not end well.
One day, Adar and I sit in the great hall listening to a disagreement between two of our Sisters. They've had an argument and no longer desire to live together, but neither wants to give up the home they shared.
My sister sits straight in her chair, fingers needled under her chin, lips pursed. If the women are not careful, she will give them hard labor as punishment for their selfishness. I am about to say as much when Brande bursts in, spear in hand.
"A man . . . there is a man at the gates. He demands his daughter back."
My temples pound; my breath quickens.
Adar sits up. "What man? What daughter?"
"I do not know."
Spears in hand, we run down the hill to the gate in the western wall and then up the ladder. We peer into the forest from the top.
He is here. He did not give up.
He stands on the ground below— unkempt, shoulders drooping, one arm held stiffly. But even from a distance I see the determination in his eyes as he stares at us, just as I saw it in his daughter's. Not many would dare to approach the walls of the Cloister, unarmed and alone, demanding the Sisters give his child back.
"Kill him," Golnar says from beside me.
"No," I say sharply. "He is no threat to us."
"How do you know?" She pauses, scrutinizing me. "Has he come for the girl you Gathered? Were you followed, Alev?" Accusation slicks her voice.
"If I were," I respond coolly, "he would have been here long ago."
The man's black eyes seem to hold mine, as if my Sisters and the walls and the Cloister and nothing else exist except us.
I wish that were true for a moment. He has shown great courage, persistence, and a devotion to his daughter that I did not know a man could possess. I would like to speak to him, to understand him better, but that's impossible.
"If he wants his daughter, he should pick up a weapon and fight." Brande’s mouth curls with disdain.
Niran would have had him killed immediately rather than risk any further trouble. What will Adar do?
She speaks. "If he leaves before morning, we will allow him to go unharmed. If not, we will kill him. Watch him closely, Brande."
Golnar's fist tightens around her spear. A few eyebrows are raised, but we all lower our heads in acknowledgement of her decision. I release my breath.
My gut churns as we descend the ladder. I brought Kaiya here. Her father followed to the doorstep of his death. If he does not leave, his death will be my fault.
He's a man; I should not care. Kaiya is a daughter of the Cloister now, not his. But as the thoughts form in my mind, I know with a sudden terrible clarity that they aren't true. Kaiya and her father are a family, as my Sisters and I are. They love each other, as Adar and I do.
I walk slowly up the hill to the remains of my mother's pyre. It is only bits of blackened wood now, but I can still see her body as it caught fire. There, I make my decision.
"I’m going to sleep," I tell Adar after picking at my dinner.
She glances up from her plate, concern in her eyes. We usually spend the evening hours in the great hall with our Sisters, playing games or listening to music or stories.
"Are you ill?"
"No, only tired."
She presses my hand with hers. "Sleep well, then, sister."
I cannot share what I will do. Adar cannot be involved. I only hope she can forgive me if she finds out.
With measured footsteps and a wildly beating heart, I leave the hall and walk toward the children's compound. I know the guards' schedules. I know when they will leave the back wall of the compound unprotected.
Huddled into a gathering of trees, I wait until they disappear around the corner, then I slither up and over the back wall. The scent of the bushes planted around the inside—wintersweet and roses—is intimately familiar. Climbing to the attic is not so easy as it once was, when I was half the height and weight I am now, but there's a reason I was chosen to be a Gatherer. My fingers and toes find purchase where few others could.
I squeeze through the hole below the roof, grateful it is still there, and crawl across the beams to the attic door. Slowly, slowly, I inch it open and lower my head to peer into the gloom of the girls' bedroom. A single candle burns at the far end.
Rows of beds line the space, just as they did when I slept here. It could be Brande, or Adar, or me down there. One of the girls sobs softly into her pillow, her body shaking under the covers.
Easing myself down, I drop to the stone floor with a gentle thud. I freeze, listening for the Teachers who sleep in the next room or the guard who will be in the anteroom by the main door. There is no sound. Even the crying has stopped.
I walk down the row and search the girls’ faces until I find Kaiya. My blade is at my waist, as always, and I consider stinging her. It would be simpler to move through the Cloister if she must obey me, but I want her to make her own choice. The choice I denied her when I took her from her home.
I kneel beside her bed. Only her tear-strewn face is visible above the covers. She looks terrible: thin and sallow, her hair a tangle.
"Kaiya, your father is here, outside the walls. Would you like to return home with him?"
Her watering eyes open wide. "Yes."
"Then come with me, and be silent."
She sits up, slips on her shoes, and tiptoes after me, back along the rows of beds and sleeping girls. I am fortunate the Teachers work them to exhaustion in their training.
Crouching, I put my hands together and boost Kaiya into the attic. I slide a chair under the opening to help myself up, and I leave it there. It must look like Kaiya escaped on her own. If there is suspicion that she had help, someone will think of me. I am willing to take that risk. If I’m to live with myself, I must do this.
We slip outside. I jump to the ground and catch Kaiya, helping her keep her feet. A strenuous scramble later, we lie along the top of the outside wall as I used to when I was her age, watching for my mother. The moon above has not changed in all these years. How am I so different?
The guard walks past us on the ground, but she does not continue around the wall as she should. Instead she comes back our way. I touch Kaiya's arm, willing her to keep still and quiet.
The footsteps slow as they approach. They turn one way, then another, eventually stopping under us. A torch waves around, throwing its light wide. I grit my teeth. Was the ground soft or muddy when I came over the wall? Did I leave footprints in my hurry?
I hold my breath, hoping the rhythmic sounds of the night will cover the frantic pounding of my heart.
The guard moves on around the wall. I close my eyes and thank Mother Asis, then wonder if she would approve of what I am doing.
My run with Kaiya through the Cloister to the western wall, the night sky blackening every minute, convinces me that Mother Asis must have heard my prayer. Guards are everywhere, but between my detailed knowledge of their posts and our own blind luck, we make it.
When the guards on the wall are at the farthest point of their walk, I hurry Kaiya up the ladder. We kneel in shadows at the top, the rough stone digging into our flesh.
"We must jump," I whisper. "There is no other way."
Fear lines the girl’s face as she thinks of the height o
f the wall, but acceptance hardens in her eyes. I take her hands, lower her as far as I can, and drop her. There's a muffled thump, but she does not cry out. Good girl.
I jump myself, clenching my teeth at the bone-jarring landing. My ankles and knees ache as I stumble forward, leading Kaiya swiftly into the forest, then on to where I last saw her father looking up at me.
What if he is no longer here? What if he has gone? My eyes rove up and down the wall, searching.
There—a shadow in the dark. His head is bowed; his hands are curled into fists. His quiet but ferocious dedication to his purpose—to his daughter—moves me again.
"Father," Kaiya cries softly from the cover of the trees.
He stiffens but to his credit only turns and walks toward us. To the guards who must be watching from the wall, he might have given up.
I leave a hand on my knife, but I needn’t have bothered. He takes his daughter in his arms and cradles her to his chest, handling her as if she was something precious, priceless. He smooths her hair and murmurs her name, the accent of their people strong in his voice. I do not know what he says, but his words are gentle and loving. Kaiya weeps.
When he looks to me, I am surprised there's no hatred or judgment on his face. Only gratitude.
"Thank you."
"Go quickly," I say around the wedge in my throat. "Cross the Restless as soon as you can and travel through the forest on that side. They will search for her; you must hurry.”
They run, holding hands tightly. I watch as they weave through the trees, until the night swallows the sight and sound of them.
10.
It is not a simple thing to get back over the wall without being seen, but I do. I limp home, my fingers raw and bleeding and my feet cramping painfully from the climb. I wash my hands, arms, and face in the basin and pour out the blood-tinged water.
Grateful Adar is not yet home, I crawl in bed as apprehension claws through me. I did what my heart dictated, but what price will I pay for listening to such a weak, inconstant advisor?
Hours seem to pass. The heat and fumes of the Eternal Flames create a shroud over the Cloister.
Sometime before mid-dark an alarm is raised. The Teachers must have checked on the girls and discovered Kaiya missing.
Sisters run through the compound, pounding on doors and calling, but they do not come to ours. It belongs to Adar—our leader—why would the girl be here? The search goes on through the night.
I lie on my bed until the sun climbs with golden limbs over the eastern wall. Then I move to the window well to watch and to wait.
As she does every morning, the Sister who minds the wasps makes her ponderous way up the hill to their enclosure to perform her precarious tasks. She must be one of the oldest of us, but still she toils every day for the good of the Cloister. For the good of us all.
I thought to do the same, but now—
Someone raps hard on our door. Enveloped in shadow, she enters without being invited.
Golnar.
I imagine triumph seething beneath the expressionless mask on her face. My hands refuse to stop trembling. She comes forward and takes one, studying it. My skin no longer bleeds, but fresh cuts and scrapes mar my fingers and palm.
"Did you not hear the alarm?" she asks.
"I was asleep."
"The girl you Gathered escaped last night, and the man is gone from the gate."
She stands too close, her voice as sharp and decided as the point of the knife she now holds. The shadows she brought with her hover like evil spirits.
With one hand, she covers my cheek. With the other, she presses the blade against my neck. Her eyes are chips of granite.
"Who do you look like, Alev? You and Adar? Not Niran."
"Our father, I suppose."
I struggle to strengthen my voice, but as I speak, the blade slices into the skin of my neck. Blood flows to my collarbone. I do my best to accept the searing pain.
"We do not have fathers. Our daughters do not have fathers. We have no need of them. Niran was weak when she mixed with a man and conceived of you." She pauses. "You should never have been born."
My hands tingle. I knew there were some who disapproved of my mother's mysterious pregnancy, but I did not know Golnar was one of them. Or how strongly she felt.
The blade burns into my skin. "Being born is not a crime."
"No, but betraying your Sisters is." Her gaze flicks around my face. "We need to be able to trust one another, Alev, now more than ever with a new leader. Can we trust you? Can Adar trust you?"
Anger throbs in my temples. Calling on every shred of courage I possess, I push my neck into the knife and meet the older woman's murky eyes. It's excruciating, but I do not retreat.
"She can. I swear it."
Time stretches out, spooling away from us. My fate gathers at the edge of Golnar's blade.
When she takes the weapon away, my heart explodes with relief.
"I have told Adar my suspicions. I cannot prove them, or you'd be bleeding into your grave right now."
I nod.
"She will forgive you, but I'll be watching. I know who you are now, Alev."
Death, grinning pointedly at me, slips out the door behind her.
My eyes close, and I put a hand to the wall, steadying myself.
I was prepared to die so Kaiya and her father might live, but I must never fail my sister again.
With my blood, I have sworn my allegiance to Adar and to the Cloister. No one can come between my people and me again.
I am a Fire Sister.
The Fire Sisters - Chapter One
* * *
Read THE FIRE SISTERS,
the thrilling conclusion to the bestselling Brilliant Darkness series!
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* * *
CHAPTER ONE
I grip Peree’s hand as we stand beside the fire lit for our partnering ceremony. My palm is slick with nervous perspiration, but I’m prepared to speak the words that will bind our lives and souls together. Among our friends and family in the peaceful village of Koolkuna, I’m ready to intertwine my life with his.
Nerang chats with others in the first language of the anuna, the people of Koolkuna. I have no idea what the talented healer is saying, but it doesn’t matter. The warm tone of his voice tells me he’s happy to be part of our celebration. We’re only waiting for our friend, Arika, and her children, Kora and Darel, to arrive. I won’t start without them.
I can’t see the group gathering nearby—Groundlings, Lofties, and the anuna—but I still hear echoes of their well wishes as we entered the clearing to stand beside the water hole. I smell the musky scent of the heather burning over greenheart wood in the fire, a combination I was told would encourage love and longevity for our union. I feel Peree’s warm, bow-callused hand clasping mine now. And I taste his last kiss on my lips, a sweet drizzle of honeysuckle.
Everything is perfect—a validation of all we worked so hard to accomplish, a small recompense for what we lost as we led our people to safety in Koolkuna.
My thoughts are splintered by the sudden noise of a woman’s shrill screams and shouts, coming from the path to the village.
“Help! Help me!”
Peree pulls me close, and fear punctures my heart.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“I don’t know.”
The woman reaches the clearing, her feet slapping unevenly against the dry ground, as if she stumbles as she runs.
“It’s Arika. Her head is bleeding.” Peree’s normally musical voice is low and rough.
What? Is she all right? Did she fall and hit her head or something?
Nerang ministers to her, speaking softly. I tug Peree forward to hear what they’re saying.
“Tell us what happened,” the healer asks.
“They took the guru,” Arika cries. “The children are gone!”
Gone? My body tingles.
“What do you mean?” a man says.
“Took them?” a woman asks, her voice rising. “Which of the guru?”
“Let her speak.” Nerang’s firm words are lined with distress.
“Frost and I… led a small group of guru into the forest to gather wildflowers for the ceremony.” Arika chokes on her tears. “We were on our way here, when we… we were attacked. They were all taken!”
“Thrush was with Frost!” Moon gasps.
“He was there. Kora and Darel were with us,” Arika says with fresh sobs, “and four others. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. They are gone.”
Horror rushes through me. “I don’t understand… who took them?”
“What did they look like?”
“Which way did they go?”
People shout over each other, their voices loud, harsh, and frightened. I can’t tell anyone apart. The clamor hurts my ears and makes me dizzy. Peree puts a steadying arm around me; I clutch his waist to ground myself.
“Quiet!” Nerang says. “Who took the guru, Arika?”
“I don’t know.” She pants. “They came suddenly… out of the trees. They wore strange clothes, and their hair was painted… they carried weapons, and… and they were all women. I tried to keep hold of Kora and Darel, but one of the women put a blade to my throat. She struck me with the butt and took them away.” Her voice breaks.
Peree hisses out a breath. I feel faint.
“There were no men?” Kaiya asks sharply.
“No, no. Only those terrible women.”
“Were there colorful feathers at their waists, like the one in Myall’s hair?” Kai says.
“Yes!”
Peree’s feather?
“We must follow them,” a man yells. Others shout, agreeing.
“It won’t do any good.” Kai sounds shaken. “Those feathers are their mark.”
“Whose mark?”
“The women who took me away when I was a child. The Fire Sisters.”
Arika moans. I put a hand on my friend’s shoulder.
