Silence was interrupted by a sigh of frustration. “Oaklee,” Leaf dramatically whispered, crouching on the floor next to her bed.
She chose to remain silent as the dark air hung between them. Oaklee could almost hear her brother’s thoughts spin round, deciding if he should continue.
“I need to show you something.”
“Now?” Oaklee blurted. Leaf placed his finger on her lips as a reminder to be quiet. She slapped his hand away, and turned her head to the side, staring at the wall. “Leaf, have you lost your senses?”
With hurried tones, he said, “Father was not the only one burdened with a secret.”
Oaklee sat up with this confession, and her fingers began habitually playing over her cord of braided hair. Long strands had come loose about her face, tickling her exposed skin, and she tucked them behind her ear. Moonlight touched the blond tresses, turning them silver, as if coated in faerie dust. As she curled loose sections of the hair around her fingers, her imagination spun comforting thoughts of faerytale images, a welcome distraction against her growing trepidation. She waited for her brother to continue, refraining from response as her stomach fluttered. The latticed shadows of bare tree branches danced on her walls and clawed at her mind.
The fidgeting hand stilled, a strand tightly woven between two fingers, as the momentary safety she had felt dissipated. One secret had already changed so much. Her father’s last words opened the door to confusion in her previously happy and predictable life. Leaf’s words billowed all those anxieties, and the flames of fear leapt before her eyes and drew her in as he whispered once more.
“As a lad the age of ten,” her brother began, “I encountered a secret room beneath the biodome. I never understood what it was or what it meant.” Leaf dropped one knee to the floor for support as he crouched. “All I could think of was father’s confession while I prepared his body for cremation, and I knew I needed to show you the room.”
She rested her gaze upon the outline of her brother and considered his words, squinting as a dull ache pained her swollen eyes. Goosebumps prickled her skin when a chill passed through her linen chemise and she blinked back the urge to shiver, wishing to uphold a posture of control. Leaf gathered the wool blanket pooling around her and raised the edges over her shoulders. The warmth was immediate and satisfying. She pulled the blanket tighter along her shoulders while maintaining a rigid demeanor, though his gesture cooled her temper some.
“Why are you sharing with me?”
Leaf shifted his weight, and Oaklee understood the answer ran deeper than parentage. A long sigh reached her ears as he placed his head in his hands and the mournful breath brushed against her forearms. He struggled to formulate the words, a common trait when he prepared to reveal a part of himself kept close. The shadowed outline of her brother stood and lowered onto the bed. Her body swayed with the depression, and she bumped into his shoulder as the ticking adjusted to his weight.
“I no longer know who I am able to trust, nor what my future is inside New Eden. If father’s secret proves true, then I have your and Laurel’s futures to consider as well. Especially as the Second Phase will begin within the year.”
“Leaf, that is madness,” Oaklee hissed. “Nothing has to change. Father unfairly burdened us with something that could very well destroy our happiness. How could he expect you to take on so much?” Tears brimmed as she thought of her father’s other request when confessing the family secret, one that implied an unspoken danger. “Personally, I enjoy my life in New Eden, and I am ready to forget his confession. We do not even know if it is true. What if he lost his mind as he neared passing?”
“I was apparently wrong. There is no one I am able to trust.” Leaf stood, a bit unsteady on his feet, and placed a hand over his chest as he cleared his throat, trying to mask the sorrow.
This had shifted into something more personal between them, and Oaklee groaned as she grabbed his sleeve, pulling him back onto the bed with force. “That is unfair. You know you can trust me, but that does not mean I have to agree with what I believe you are suggesting. You honestly believe we should leave New Eden?”
“Please, just come and see with your own eyes, and then decide what to believe.”
She glanced at the shadows on the wall to decipher the time, her sleepy mind unable to interpret the angles quite yet. “What is the present hour?”
“Two o’clock morning time.”
“Do we leave Laurel here alone?”
“Yes, she shall be fine.”
Oaklee pulled her knees up to her chest, luxuriating in the warmth as her chemise draped over her toes. Leaf returned his head to his hands, and she knew the weight of his thoughts were heavy indeed. Tree limbs from outside her window continued to cast shadowed fingers through her room, scraping across her brother’s forehead, and her pulse quickened as her mind groped for a decision. The forest was calling them, beckoning with each bio-wind breeze as the darkness absorbed their fears. Neither one moved, she noticed—as if doing so would break the reservoir holding back their swelling anxieties.
Oaklee drew in a fortifying breath. “I shall accompany you. What may I bring?”
In an uncommon moment of affection, Leaf pulled her into a hug and kissed the hair atop her head. Oaklee startled and pushed him off as she came to a full stand. “I did not realize it meant that much to you, My Lord.”
“Yes, it really does,” he said soberly upon hearing his courtesy title, a formality the community gave him upon turning sixteen three years ago. Some in the second generation relished the esteem while others, such as Leaf, found it awkward and against their earthy nature. Oaklee was required to use formalities in public per The Code, but she wielded Leaf’s as a weapon privately.
“I brought candles to light upon reaching the hatch.” Leaf placed a taper and a small wrought iron holder in her hands.
“A hatch?”
“Yes, a well-concealed one. Wear a garment you find appropriate for climbing, bring your cloak, and then meet me by the entry door.”
In the dimness, Oaklee noted that her brother wore his work clothes. The linen breeches reached his lower calves rather than down to the ankle, an adjustment she had made to keep the pants cleaner and from fraying while working the gardens. She would don her garden work garments as well, keeping her full-length linen day dress clean for the morrow.
A short time later, she tiptoed down the hallway. Thoughts circled around endlessly of sneaking around the biodome at night as well as entering a secret room. She lightly chewed on her bottom lip as hesitation slowed her steps, the arguments in her mind continuing their debate as she tarried beneath the stone archway leading into the main living quarters.
Oaklee examined her brother as he leaned against the wooden entry door, head turned toward their parent’s empty bedroom with a look that made her still. The muscles in his jaw were visibly tense, and arms toned from years of hard labor folded rigidly across his chest. In all her fifteen years, she had never witnessed her brother appear so distressed. His nature always radiated a steadfast calm even in the most stressful of situations.
Leaf’s green eyes, appearing pale in the silvered light and shadows, moved in her direction as she wrapped her braid into a coil at the base of her neck, tying it off with a piece of mohair yarn. She ignored his inquisitive look and peeked into their sister’s room. The soft sounds of restful breathing greeted her ears, and Laurel’s long braid poked out of the blanket securely tucked beneath her chin.
Satisfied, Oaklee continued toward her brother who opened the wooden entry door as she approached. With a slight bow Leaf walked onto the deck and glanced in every direction, slowing his motion as a breeze fluttered against his cloak. Her hands rested on either side of the door frame, and her eyes widened with growing trepidation as she listened to the rustling leaves of the temperate forest whisper their warnings.
No words needed to be spoken. Oaklee knew that venturing out in the night was against the edict from The Elements, which on
ly heightened her fear. Her feet anchored to the wooden floor as her mind contemplated the risks of a public trial to explain their late-night activity. But her brother’s confession tugged at her heart and pulled her forward. He would never request that she take such a risk unless it was dire.
Last year, a young man and woman from the village, both seventeen years of age, were caught dipping their toes into the creek during the dead of night. They stood trial before the community, and then married as demanded by the young woman’s father. Following the trial, Oaklee’s father warned both her and Leaf never to sneak out at night, as the young couple was fortunate that banishment was not issued. “Trust is paramount inside our forming world,” her father had stressed. “If we cannot depend on our community, then we have lost the heart and soul behind rebuilding what has been lost to the Outside world.” She had not fully understood what he had meant, but had responded dutifully. “Yes, father.”
Breath formed in ghost-like vapors as Oaklee crossed her home’s threshold and closed the door. The gentle bio-breeze made the hood of her cloak ripple across her face, her view of the landscape narrowing and expanding with each flutter.
Dread viciously knotted each nerve and taunted her need for predictability. Secrets proved to have that powerful effect. She still sought emotional relief from the last revelation. How does one ever return to normal after the loss of a parent, let alone both parents? Would Leaf’s secret add to her distress?
The cool air sharpened her mind, and Oaklee began contemplating how Leaf could hold onto a secret for nine years, then trust her with the gravity of what he had seen and experienced. He could have asked anyone, including Coal, who was more like a relation than a dear friend. Oaklee wished to ask her brother why he did not approach The Elements with this secret, but held back as they neared the staircase that would place them within view of anyone.
Barefoot, she and Leaf quickly and lightly descended the wooden staircase from their second-story stone-and-cob apartment home. The Tudor-style building rose further above them with each step toward the biodome floor, and the white walls with timber frames and stone-capped entries and windows glowed in the reflected moonlight. Oaklee was convinced that her heartbeat must surely be loud enough to alert someone in the pre-dawn stillness of their trespass.
Having reached the bottom of the stairs, Leaf darted to a nearby birch tree. He motioned for Oaklee to follow, but she dithered over his request while staring at the white, peeling bark, eerily glowing from the soft illumination of the uppermost biodome panes. Since her sleep was disturbed, her imagination had been visited by visions of the departed, as if her father and mother were guiding their steps. The leaves crunched beneath Oaklee’s bare feet, and she cringed with each step, her resentment building as she approached her brother. She cast a panicked expression toward Leaf and placed flattened hands on her stomach as she breathed heavy from the paranoia of being seen and spooked by the various hauntings.
“Do not fret, Willow,” Leaf said in a quiet voice.
She inclined her head and gave her brother a look of patient perseverance for using her given name. Leaf dragged his fingers through his brown curly hair and closed his eyes while his head fell back a few beats, the tension in his jaw returning.
He straightened and then whispered in a tight voice, “I brought you shoes,” handing over the leather slippers.
She snatched them from his hands and turned her back, willing her mind to relax. Fingers caressed the soft leather made from goat hides, calming her thoughts, and she glanced over her shoulder at Leaf who offered a kind smile of encouragement. With a slow, labored breath, she placed one foot into a shoe and then the other as Leaf did the same, quickly lacing the leather strings. Leaf took her hand when she stood and led her with gentle, swift movements through the brush and deciduous forest, avoiding the main trail.
Morbid curiosity tugged on the sleeves of her mind, and Oaklee shifted her attention to the right. The rich earth of The Rows was freshly turned with compost in preparation for where her father would be laid to rest on the morrow. Tears threatened to form as a fresh pain gripped her heart.
Seeding would begin two days hence for the Third Ceremony following death. She had spent the evening prior with Leaf and Laurel, deciding what would be grown in the three rows that would represent their father’s body, soul and spirit. All three agreed upon purple kale as a choice, their father’s favorite. He loved the vibrant purple and blue colors, a reminder of their mother who was a woman full of life and surprises he often shared. Therefore, it would be sown in the row representing the soul who had finally reunited with his mate. Were her mother’s ashes still a part of the soil?
Consumed by such inconsolable thoughts, Oaklee did not immediately notice that they approached the path leading to the rainforest biome. She tightened her hold on Leaf’s hand and emotionally prepared to leave the main biodome for the ancillary enclosure with vastly different ecological controls. Leaf had conveniently left this portion out of his request, knowing she did not have a fondness for the jungle.
After running through the South Cave, a narrow stone tunnel connecting the domes, Leaf opened a hewn wooden door and pulled Oaklee behind nearby banana plants. The large leaves dripped with condensation, and Oaklee scrunched up her face as the water hit her forehead. As irritating as the droplets became, she was nonetheless grateful to be sheltered from any eyes that may have spotted their forms creeping along the path. The temperature and humidity in the tropics biome was oppressive, and Oaklee wished she could remove her cloak to find relief. Remaining concealed was paramount, however, and she willed herself to think of something other than the choking heat and thick moist air.
Leaf gained her attention, then lifted a finger to his lips, moving his head to the left with two sharp nods. With swift movements, he became a shadow among the tropical plants until she could no longer see him. Every muscle stiffened, and her breathing labored against the sweltering air. She had lost him, his movements indiscernible and inaudible. The rainforest was thick and dark, and the lush vegetation appeared black against the filtered moonlight.
Cold slime brushed against her neck followed by a tickling sensation as a tongue flicked the air near her ear. She tried to steady her breath and remain calm, closing her eyes to focus on the surrounding nature rather than the reptile inching its way onto her shoulder. She knew her fear was irrational. There were no poisonous or dangerous snakes in the biodome, but a snake was still a snake. A small cry escaped her lips, and she pressed her fingers against her mouth as a flock of blue-gray tanagers in a nearby tree took flight, their discernable calls squawking in protest. In a moment of panic, she grabbed the snake and threw it into the bushes at her side. Oaklee jumped as the foliage in front of her quivered, and a shadow leapt out, pulling her into an embrace as she tried to step back.
“Are you injured? Experiencing any pain?”
“You left me!” She pounded his chest with her fists. “I had to endure the company of a snake on my neck because of you!”
She shuddered again with the memory. The fury left her limbs, and she dropped her hands as tears finally fell, making her swollen eyes sting in discomfort.
Leaf pulled away gently with relief, and watched as his sister placed shaking fingers over her mouth as sobs broke loose. Guilt pricked at his conscience for requesting her company on this adventure, the regret swelling with the fear of being discovered or that his sister was injured. She was entirely his responsibility now.
In one afternoon, he became her parent as well as her brother; and as the male head of their family, he acted as her social guardian as well. It was not too late to turn around. He could ask Coal, but he knew that Willow was the best recipient of this information. Her agile mind and natural curiosity were a perfect combination to process the numerous unknowns they would encounter. Still, her temperament might be their undoing, especially as she was sleep-deprived and heartbroken. He suffered as well but possessed more self-control and disciplined thought
than his sister.
Bringing her along was the right decision. He would rather they face any repercussions together than become separated after losing both parents, particularly in light of their father’s last words. Willow may not feel the same, and would probably be happier without him, but he needed her. It was difficult for him to express this sentiment as their relationship was built on tolerance. Leaf knew she would outright reject his brotherly affection, or his desire to protect her, failing to understand his attempts to keep their family unit intact. She always misunderstood his actions as unfeeling toward her predicament, rather than realizing she defined life with melodrama rather than reality.
Since his sister’s twelfth birthday, Leaf discovered that he was more adept than his father at containing Willow’s atmospheric reactions. Their father was continuously humored by his daughter’s passionate and expressive nature, reminiscent of his late wife. On the contrary, Leaf found it unladylike and an embarrassment to their family. Their mother had passed away with Laurel’s birth, leaving it to the kindness of the village matrons to guide his sister’s steps into womanhood. But it fell to Leaf to re-channel Willow’s emotional neediness as she struggled to understand her role as the woman of the home—and to become a lady of Noble bearing. She resented him for this, and pushed against his authority as if he were the parent figure rather than her brother.
Did she wonder why their father had to die and not him?
His mood had turned black, and the weight of responsibility strapped to his life increased with each worrisome thought. Leaf needed to remain calm and steady for Willow’s sake. Despite her beliefs, he loved her and cared deeply for her future—even when he felt exasperated by her whirlwind of drama.
“I am glad my company is preferred over a snake,” he said with a lopsided grin.
“It is debatable.” Willow wiped away a tear. “Please do not leave me behind again.”
“I promise, cross my heart and hope to die.” He traced a criss-crossing pattern over his chest.
Legacy (The Biodome Chronicles) Page 3
