by Angie West
***
The forest was pitch dark by the time I'd finished the small jog from the edge of Bellview's eastern perimeter. I stood there in the middle of the dirt path for a moment, hands resting lightly on the dark leather belt that rode low on my hips, and considered the best way to go. The path on which I rested would certainly get me back to Grandview, to Claire, with a bare minimum of fuss.
No doubt it was the safest direct path to where I needed to go. But?if I took a shortcut through the woods I knew I could shave at least ten minutes off my time. If I flew, another five. I grinned recklessly and eyed the trees for a moment, looking for a good, thick, solid branch. There. That one. Less than thirty seconds was spent debating the wisdom of taking the shortcut before I lowered into a crouch and sprang for it.
With an ease bred from familiarity, I caught the sturdy branch I'd selected. Even though I couldn't remember quite that far back, not with clarity anyway, the odds were good that I had learned to fly almost before I'd learned to walk. Most woodland nymphs did. It was simply a more effective way to travel. It was not, however, always the safest mode of transportation. Not by a long shot. But I hardly gave the potential danger a second thought.
More often than not, danger and I were like two ships passing in the night. At least when I was flying. Other times didn't bear thinking about but here in the trees, well, I was in my element. At this height, birds and tree-climbing beasts were the only real threats, that and maybe Kahn's guards. Up here, the forest was pleasantly quiet without being foreboding or silent. Only the faint rustle of the wind as it murmured through waxy green leaves could be heard, a clear enough indication that no predators lurked about.
As for Kahn's guards, well, they were in short supply these days, I acknowledged with a tight feeling in my chest that was halfway between nerves and pride. Besides, as fast as I was flying, swinging from branch to branch in the zig-zag pattern that had become habit, the guards would only pose a threat if they were excellent marksmen, and I knew from experience most of them weren't.
Most of them were little more than petty thugs. Of course, that in no way meant they weren't dangerous. Nobody knew the truth of that statement better than I did.
My hand was a caramel-colored blur in the dark night as I loosely gripped an upcoming oak branch and used my body's own swift momentum to swing around a tree to my left. A quick, curving twist of the hips was all that kept me from slamming into the thick trunks of the trees that were flying past in a kaleidoscope of shadow.
Occasionally, a break in the thick canopy overhead would allow a shaft of moonlight to filter down through the trees. Narrow ribbons of starlight shimmered here and there and gave the woods a slightly silver tint that was more dramatic near the top. The light was beautiful but I wasn't worried; I didn't need it. My night vision was excellent and so was my sense of balance. All nymphs were born in possession of extraordinary senses and remarkable agility, but constant training and a fierce determination had strengthened my abilities into something a little harder and sharper.
I was nearing the end of the road-literally. The twisted, gnarled trunks of the Three Sisters Tree loomed ahead and I instinctively braced for dismount, catching the top branches of a solid-looking oak and tightening my hands around the rough bark instead of my normal catch-and-release motion. My body swayed for a moment before regaining equilibrium and I dropped nimbly to the lower branches, then finally to the hard, leaf-strewn ground.
I stared up at the impressive stature and breathed in the crisp night air around me. Legend has it that this section of woods was once ruled by three half-sisters. If the ancient stories could be believed, then all three were very beautiful, though I wasn't familiar enough with the legend to say exactly how their specifics of birth had played out.
If memory served, then one was a nymph, one was a warrior, and one? I paused, frowning, and regarded the twisted old tree thoughtfully. Well, I couldn't recall just what the third sister had been, although I was sure someone, sometime, had told me that part of the story.
All I remembered for sure was that the third sister was different, unusual, whatever she'd been. Unlike the rest of the trees here, no leaves grew on this one. Three trunks twined together like a knotted braid, but for all that, it didn't appear dead or fragile. I traced one finger along the massive trunk but quickly pulled my hand away. Nobody touched this tree. Ever. At least no one was supposed to. Something about it being bad luck. But the way I figured it, if one of the trio had been a nymph, then there was a good chance she was a distant ancestor and so she wouldn't mind, would she?
No, I reasoned, silently pressing my palm against the surface and feeling a warm, tingly sensation radiate through my palm to spread outward toward my wrist. She wouldn't mind. Wherever she was now. All of my senses kicked into high alert in the next moment. I heard the voice at the same instant I turned away from the tree.
"Thought I'd find you here."
"Claire." I grinned, reached into my pocket, and tossed her a smooth, flat stone. "Here."
She caught the rock easily with one hand. "Ooh. What's this?" she breathed a second later when she held it up to the moonlight for closer inspection.
I joined her on the path and leaned over her shoulder to point at the stone. "I found it today while I was on patrol and thought you'd like it for your collection."
Claire was a fanatic when it came to little odds and ends, especially rocks and seashells. She never seemed to get tired of showing off the large shell collection Mark had mounted into a glass display case, although when I'd asked her how she'd acquired the wide assortment of shells she had only blushed and given some vague non-answer about a lake.
"Aries, this is great. Seriously. Thank you."
I smiled back and watched as she clutched her hand tightly around the stone before carefully depositing it into a small, beaded bag she carried on her left arm. The bag looked fancy but I knew more often than not it was filled with sand and dirt.
Claire had been a botanist before coming to Terlain and it showed. In the months she had been among our land, she hadn't lost her passion for nature. If anything, her hunger for knowledge had reached epic proportion. And why not, I reflected, sparing a glance for the gold-veined leaves that swayed above our heads along the edge of the path. Terlain was beautiful, extraordinary. Even if it was less than safe right now?
My eyes narrowed ever so slightly on Claire's cutoff shorts and tank top. "Where's your knife?"
"Don't worry." Her lips curved briefly and she tapped a fingernail against the fur-lined boots that ended just below her knees and should have looked out of place with her shorts but didn't.
"Oh. Right." I shook my head. Like Claire would walk around at night unprotected.
"Hey, are you okay?" She glanced at me from beneath the honey-colored fringe of bangs that swept across her forehead. "Did something happen tonight? While you were on duty?"
"What? No. No, it was really quiet tonight." I pursed my lips and kicked at a pebble on the path. "I'm just?" I sighed. It wasn't that I couldn't talk to Claire. She wasn't just my best friend. She was also the closest thing I had to family. Sure, technically I had a family and of course I wasn't the only nymph in the world. But Claire?she was my ride or die, as she liked to say. She got me in a way no one else had in a long, long time. No, the problem wasn't that I couldn't trust her enough to open up. The crux of the matter was that right then I didn't know how. I considered her question for a moment. Was I okay?
"Everything is fine. I mean, nothing happened," I told her, idly twirling a lock of black hair around one finger as we walked. "I just don't feel like myself tonight. You know?"
"Yeah." She nodded without missing a step. "You look a little on edge."
"I am," I admitted. "Just one of those days, I guess."
"Hmm, okay."
"Hey," I said after a moment. "Are you hungry?"
"Not really." She shook her head. "You?"
"No." We were at t
he fork in the path, the one that would either take us to town, or if we took the left fork, the beach. "Why don't we skip dinner tonight? I'm just not in the mood to see anyone right now." And if the way I had snapped at Aranu earlier was anything to go by, I was sure the random strangers I could have run into would have thanked me for the decision.
"Sure." She shrugged. "After the beach, you can come back to the house with me. Marta cooked a huge pot of chili tonight. We've got plenty left."
"Okay." I smiled, thoughts of Marta lightening my mood a little. The older woman wasn't much of a conversationalist, but she was one hell of a cook.
Loosely packed tan soil gave way to sand the closer we walked to the beach. Claire whistled some tune I didn't recognize and didn't really pay attention to anyway. Lost in my own tangled thoughts, I followed quietly along a foot or so behind her.
Claire stopped suddenly and, not paying attention, I almost walked into her rigid back.
"What is it?" I peered over her shoulder at the beach beyond but couldn't see any reason for her apprehension. White sand curved around a large expanse of lake. Nothing moved on the calm surface of the water. Nothing stirred on the wooded path behind us. "Claire?" I touched her shoulder.
"It's dark." She frowned and took a step back.
"So? It's usually dark when we come here." I shrugged. "What's the big deal?"
"The moon," she explained, folding slim arms over her chest. "There's always a bright moon when we come here, but look at the clouds." She gestured with one hand. "It's pitch dark out here tonight."
I spared a brief glance for the sky, then frowned. Sure enough, the large moon that had filled the forest with strands of silver earlier was now almost completely obscured by thick clouds.
"It wasn't dark like that a few minutes ago," Claire murmured thoughtfully.
I'd have to take her word for it, I realized with mild shock, since I hadn't been paying much attention on the walk down to the beach. I felt my brows snap together. It wasn't like me to let my guard down like that.
"Maybe we should skip the beach tonight," Claire was saying. "It doesn't look like we're going to get any moon bathing done and it's probably too cold to swim."
"As for the clouds, well, maybe we're in for an overnight storm, but it isn't that cold," I argued, not ready to face everyone at the house just yet. "And if you want light, I can handle that." I grinned.
Claire finally giggled and allowed herself to be pulled along the fine, pale sand to the water's edge. "I can barely make out the island from here," she complained, laughing breathlessly.
"The island, you say?" I repeated with an exaggerated accent. "Okay, then." I smirked, eyeing the lake with wicked intent.
"Oh, Aries, no way are you-"
The splash drowned out the rest of Claire's words as I dove deep, leaving a trail of white light in my wake.
I've always been a fast swimmer and tonight was no exception. Not being able to see where I was going made little difference. My body glided easily through the onyx lake and slowly the black water came alive beneath my hands. The dark, silent island loomed ahead and I swam a quick loop around it, leaving a circle of bright orbs twinkling and bobbing on the surface of the water like diamonds. By the time I turned back to the shore to wave to Claire, the island's only tree was also kissed with golden light.
The lake hadn't been all that cold to begin with but it felt fractionally warmer with all the lights I'd scattered in our immediate vicinity. Claire had already stripped down to the two-piece bathing suit she wore beneath her shorts and tank top. Her boots had been carelessly tossed farther up the beach along with her bag.
Both items rested haphazardly on the sand. I added my over-clothing to the pile but laid the dagger I carried next to her clothing. I wasn't comfortable having it so far up the beach and if it got a few drops of water on it, well, big deal. It had seen worse. At least it would be accessible should we happen to need it.
I danced down the beach to stand beside Claire at the water's edge. In deference to what I liked to refer to as Claire's propriety sensibilities, I left my bra and underwear on. Normally I wouldn't have even been wearing a bra and if by some slim chance I had, it certainly wouldn't have been the lacy aqua confection I currently had on. Still, I had to admit the blue-green color was a lot better than the peach silk she'd given me on my birthday.
Anyway, I reasoned, Claire was right about one thing. The garments did provide a lot of support, especially the ones with the thin wire. Although, in my opinion, the underwire bra was just more proof that "too much of a good thing" existed. Claire liked the things but I drew the line at them; not only were they damned uncomfortable but they made my cleavage look obscene.
Water lapped at my thighs. Idly, I watched the muscles tighten at the first touch of cool water before pushing my feet against the sandstone bottom, tucking my head between my arms, and diving fully into the shimmery glow that was the lake. The splash just behind me and to the left told me Claire had followed suit.
I loved to swim. The joy it held for me was second only to flying. More than anything, I loved to feel free. Maybe it was because I knew that deep down, in every way that counted, I wasn't free, would never be free. These days, obligations were abundant, from my people to the warriors to civilian villagers.
No, I would never be short of obligations. And most days I wouldn't have wanted to be. Today, however, was not one of those days. Today I wanted to fly and swim and scream until I'd worked out the kinks and left them in the dust.
I reached the island ahead of Claire, so I pulled myself onto the tiny shore and turned in a full circle to survey my own handiwork.
"Not too shabby," Claire gasped from behind me. She grappled with sparse tufts of grass and sand to pull herself up and out of the water. I leaned down to catch her by the elbow and pull her the rest of the way onto the small island.
"You're winded. Are you okay?"
"Oh." She placed a hand on her chest and shook her head while a rueful smile played around the corners of her mouth. "Yeah, I'm fine. I thought I saw a shark and panicked. I opened my mouth and swallowed a little water."
"You always think you see a shark," I said, amused.
"What can I say?" She shrugged. "Old habits die hard."
"You've never actually come face to face with a shark," I pointed out.
"Well, no," she agreed readily enough, "but I've been terrified of the things my entire life." She shuddered and I barely resisted the urge to do the same.
The sea creatures she described and called sharks sounded like dreadful creatures-and creepy to boot. She had told me all about them months ago, late one night over double chocolate chip cookies and hot tea after we'd spent a day at the lake. The thing with Claire isn't that she's such a tough customer as to never be affected by things like stress and fear, it's the way she squares her shoulders and faces life head-on, both good and bad. She's also pretty much an open book.
When she nearly hyperventilated in the middle of the lake that first afternoon, it was pretty obvious something was wrong. I smiled, remembering how, at the time, she'd taken a deep breath, then fixed the water with a mutinous, determined stare and confessed that yes, she was afraid of the water. In the next breath she had informed me in no uncertain terms that we were going swimming anyway. Yeah, that was Claire.
"Are you ever sorry?" I asked suddenly, the mention of her native water beasts reminding me of her home, her life before Terlain.
"Am I sorry about what?" She plopped down next to me on the stretch of sand beneath the tree.
"You know, that you came here."
"Well?" She seemed to consider her answer and carefully choose her words. "I wasn't given much choice but to come here, not at first, but later? No, I wasn't sorry at all. I think from the minute I left the first time, all I could think about was getting back here. It feels like home. I know that must sound strange."
"No, it's not strange at all."
"It's a good thing this feels like home, though, since I'm pretty sure I won't be allowed to leave again." She leaned back and flung one toned arm over her head. "I won't miss the sharks, that's for sure." Her teeth flashed white in the space between us and I laughed.
"No, I wouldn't miss them either."
"I don't know, though, they probably aren't as bad as naule," she considered, sitting up and tossing a wary glance at the glassy surface of the lake.
"We'll see anything before it gets within a hundred yards," I reassured without bothering to get up. I didn't contradict her assumption that naule were worse than sharks, mostly because I didn't want to scare her, but personally the thought of sharks made my heart pound. Sure, they were much smaller than the naule, but they were considerably faster and there were more of them. According to Claire, some breeds even traveled in packs.
"You're right." I watched her take a deep breath and grin. "I'm being ridiculous tonight. I mean, I thought I got over this silly fear-of-water thing ages ago."
"Uh, well it hasn't really been that long," I pointed out. "Besides, I'm not sure that run-in with the naule helped put your mind at ease."
"Oh, that." She waved the reminder away before turning to stare across the lake to the shore. "It was so long ago and I'm over it. Not that it was the best night of my life or anything."
"You were lucky Mark came along when he did."
"The thing is," she continued, "I'm a little on edge tonight."
"So I am," I confessed. "I've felt?unsettled, somehow, all afternoon." I shook away the lingering sense of uneasy restlessness and sat up to loop my arms around my knees. "Why are you nervous?" I asked Claire.
"I'm not nervous," she was quick to deny. "Okay, I'm just going to level with you. I had planned to wait until we got back to the house and surprise you, but I'm not so sure that's the best plan."
"Claire?"
"We have some company. They arrived earlier today," she finally replied, putting her back to the water to regard me in silence.
"Oh?" I tried for casual indifference but instinctively I knew, damn it, I knew what she was going to say next.
"Ari, my family arrived today. Mike is back."
