He grins. “You really are a bird, Nira.” He collapses forward but manages not to fall on her. She pulls his face up to hers. Tears fall down her cheeks. He touches the wound on her chest, the blade still imbedded in her warm flesh.
“What?” she breathes. He can hear her heart flutter—the dagger settling into the muscle.
“You set me free,” he whispers before the weight of his head becomes too heavy and his body looms forward. His forehead rests against hers, her joint spells stopping his heart.
“She isn’t right,” Caleb says in a hushed voice.
“Of course, she isn’t,” Deirdre says, throwing one hand up in a dismissive gesture. “I’m sure you’ve seen her back?” She lowers her chin and looks up at Caleb with a devilish smile, raising an eyebrow.
Caleb glares at her before swiveling to look at Lilah, who sits aloof, some distance away, her profile visible.
He had sent another butterfly to compel Lilah to meet him by the stream. When she arrived, she wasn’t alone. Deirdre was with her, though why the woman wanted to tag along, Caleb could only guess. Lilah was unrecognizable, her countenance pained, her aura disturbed.
Deirdre seemed fixed on staying away from the Six, as did Lilah. None of them knew where to go, but all agreed they needed to put distance between them and the sanctuary. Soon, they would discover Lilah was gone and start searching for her. Deirdre seemed particularly wary and anxious to get away—and fast. Caleb didn’t ask any questions; Fortune had found him.
Now, they take a moment to rest somewhere between here and there. The thick forest corrals them like a wool blanket.
“I’m not talking about that. She seems—it’s like, ah. I don’t know.”
Deirdre places a hand on his shoulder. “She’s ascending.” But Caleb can’t shake the feeling that this is beyond her ascension. Deeper, a change in her very marrow. Deirdre snickers and pushes him forward. “Go. Heal her.”
He sighs and closes the distance in five long strides. When he stands but an arm’s length away, Lilah turns, revealing moist cheeks. Blood marks the back of her coat. The corners of her mouth tremble, just for a beat, before she wipes her cheeks and fixes her mouth into a straight line. Pensive blue eyes stare up at him, hollow. He can’t stand them and looks down at her back.
Caleb gestures to her back, and she immediately spins and shrugs off her coat, revealing the bloodstained shirt. He stifles a gasp. The wounds must have ripped open during their quick escape from the sanctuary. Caleb gently lifts Lilah’s shirt to expose the raw flesh. Lilah stiffens under the touch of his finger, then hides her face with her hands. Finding a bottle of disinfecting liquid in his pack, he glances back at the oozing lines weaving across her skin like the lines left on the shore when the tide goes out. They are grievous wounds. “Prepare yourself.”
Lilah inhales.
Caleb pours the contents of the bottle down over her back, and Lilah growls through her teeth. She trembles but stays steady on her knees. He reaches in and pulls out clean cotton strips. With the utmost care, he lays the cotton across her back, sucking his teeth as she curses. He can’t heal her because—
“Why didn’t you heal me?” Lilah says, sluggishly pulling her shirt down.
Caleb stands, rubbing a cotton strip between his thumb and index finger.
“The wound is . . .” he hesitates.
“It’s what?” Lilah finishes pulling her shirt down over the now cotton-covered wounds and stands, facing him. Every movement exaggerated, her face morphs into one of grim realization. She reaches out to a nearby tree to steady herself.
“They probably placed an incantation similar to—well,” Caleb gestures to her arms. “I’ll have to keep an eye on it to make sure it doesn’t fester.”
She closes her eyes. “Great.”
“I did try and tell you.” Deirdre steps in, between the pair. “Should’ve fainted.” Lilah stares at her with knitted brows. Deirdre smiles pleasantly. “But no, no one listens to me anymore.” She sighs. “Arrogant, just like Alessandra. I guess I should have expected that since she is your mother.”
Lilah glares at Deirdre, widening her stance. “What do you want with—” Her back throbs from the bath of spirits, and her vision tunnels. She reaches out for the tree again but finds strong arms holding her up. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath. When she opens her eyes, the light seems to fix itself on her gaze, and she must blink before anything comes into focus. The light had been Caleb’s gaze. Turning, she pulls away from his grasp, uncomfortably aware of his warm skin against hers.
“The prophecy, of course!” Deirdre makes a pff noise. “You see, Alessandra, she can’t be saved nor will she survive—I understand that now. Florence is naïve and refuses the truth, just like the others!” Deirdre places a finger on Lilah’s clavicle, where Alessandra had stabbed her. “I’m not supposed to interfere, but it’s almost too painful not to.”
Lilah’s pulse jumps and her lungs contract as a twig breaks somewhere in the forest a great distance away. Beads of sweat trickle down her forehead onto her temple and the grass crunches beneath the weight of her feet as she takes a step back. She smells the birch, and something a bit sour, like cream after sitting out on the counter all day.
Everything seems dead. Everything seems alive.
When she speaks, she doesn’t even recognize her voice. “What are you talking about?” Lilah looks around and suddenly doesn’t recognize the world she lives in. The trees disappear and a cliff of some height replaces them, waves pound. She sees a woman’s face staring at her, unblinking, and a young man who wrings his hands, his mouth downturned. Where am I? She looks down, but there is no solid ground to stand on. White spray from the swells crashes against the stone edge and flashes before her eyes. She blinks.
Lilah swallows. The unseen force within her pulses to life. Her eyes turn down and the black brands on her arms confront her, tiny reminders of her insolent behavior. Lilah glances at Caleb’s unsullied fawn-colored skin, black hair, and blue-gold eyes. Is it jealousy she feels for him? How he’s never experienced the rod—the pain. It makes a trench between them. A surge of heat pulses through her body. Lilah exhales violently, having held the breath for too long. As the pain from her side grasps her entire body, she screams, folding over, her hands on her knees.
“Lilah,” Caleb says gently.
The instinct to flee overwhelms her. She turns and rushes past where Caleb and Deirdre stand.
“You can’t leave!” Deirdre yells after her. “Even if she can’t be saved, Alessandra is your only—”
“Shut up!” Lilah stops and turns back around.
After years of waking up to Warrior training as her first class, she grew used to the thrill that would fill her body early in the morning. As the years wore on, the feeling only grew in its size, and the satisfaction she would get after training increased tenfold. It was a feeling of strength, of power. The knowing she could dominate the other person. In the past, she could make the feeling subside, she could control where the energy went, distract herself long enough to where she didn’t notice it anymore but for the dull pulsing in her veins. But now, as she stands a few feet in front of Deirdre, the feeling has transformed from a thrill to a hunger—a need.
The water below crashes and sprays on her brow.
“Lilah!” Caleb says again, but she ignores him, his voice like a birdsong drifting in the wind.
She walks toward Deirdre, focusing on her intent until it is clear within her mind.
“It makes you bloodthirsty.” Deirdre taunts.
“Lilah, stop!” Caleb says, pulling her arm back.
Lilah rips from Caleb’s grip and keeps her eyes focused on Deirdre, closing the gap between them in two short strides. She throws the first punch, but it doesn’t connect; instead, Deirdre sends her flying backward with a strong kick. Lilah lands on her back and screams.
Deirdre smiles widely at her. “I’m not like the others.” Deirdre cocks her head to the side. “Maybe
it’s too late—maybe I’ve gone too far. But they won’t speak to me, so how am I to know?”
Lilah takes a deep breath, then shakes her head, dislodging all her circling thoughts. Speak to who? What is going on? Lilah rises to her feet and glances over her shoulder at Caleb. He kicks the ground before turning sharply and staring off into the woods. “Yeah, seventeen years too late,” she mutters.
Deirdre crosses her arms behind her head. “Go. What is will be.”
Caleb starts off in another direction. “Are you coming?”
Burning slides behind Lilah’s eyes, and she turns away from Deirdre, who skips into the forest. Hunching over, the pain in her back pierces her composure and a small cry escapes from the back of her throat. Where to go? A cloud has more direction than Lilah. She pushes all her attention on the rising heat within her gut, focusing on her breath. Rise. Fall. Colors come back into view. She inhales deeper and smells the musk of the earth, the dirt and grass mixing in a pleasant aroma. Nothing will be right until Alessandra is dead.
“There’s a place, not too far from here,” Caleb says, after a time of walking in silence.
Lilah startles at the sound of his voice. His warm voice reaches out to her, trying to calm the billowing waves within her. But is he trustworthy? Lilah pulls her arms around herself, suddenly chilled. Why does he care? “You said Alessandra sent you.” She takes a step away from him, grounding her body in a balanced stance. “Explain yourself.”
Caleb finds her eyes and then lowers his gaze to the grassy forest floor. “I have a debt to her.”
“What kind?” Lilah finds it hard to believe that Alessandra would let a Lux do anything, unless she has them under her influence.
“She saved my sister and I, during the war. I had no choice when she—when she demanded that I be a part of her scheme.” His eyes bore into her.
Saved you and your sister? Impossible. Why would she . . . “What did she demand?” Lilah takes a deep breath, feeling the blood in her limbs giving vigor to her muscles, readying for an attack.
“That I find you and . . .” He shifts away from her toward the forest.
“And what?” Lilah says through gritted teeth.
“She wanted me to stay by your side and not interfere.”
Lilah laughs so hard her back contracts in pain. Oh, so that’s it. That’s all this has been. Lilah tilts her head, listening to the noises of the forest. I’m such a fool. There is a deeper, hidden part of her that wishes for him to stay, but— “I can’t let you follow me. You understand why, right?”
“You can’t do this alone. She’s stronger than you. You’re going to need the help of someone, and right now, I’m the only one here.”
Lilah stares up at the sky. The gray of it only makes her frown. She swivels back around, tilting her head. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
“How scary.” Caleb comes to her side with a smile. “I’ll make an oath then, to prove I’m trustworthy.”
Lilah regains her breath after focusing on breathing into the pain. Why is he willing to go so far to prove his trustworthiness to me? She stares into Caleb’s cerulean and gold speckled eyes and finds concern. The same look she’d seen on Verna’s face when she thought Lilah wasn’t looking. Verna . . . Turning away from Caleb, she wipes the back of her hand across her cheek where a single tear descends. Closing her eyes, she notices the stillness of the forest. Inhaling, she smells the clean, wet scent of rain somewhere off in the distance. An emptiness echoes in her gut, planting her to the spot. What would you have me do?
Verna was never a fighter, unless it came down to protecting those she loved. She died because of me. All because I didn’t listen . . . Verna was a fixture in Lilah’s life. She reminded Lilah of who she is, who she can be. Now, Lilah’s world sticks in a bizarre phase where the sun and moon share the sky. Not quite day, not quite night. She wishes for day, but the night calls to her. The heaving water crests on the stone of the cliff where Lilah’s foot hangs. It isn’t the fall that scares Lilah, but the inevitability of it. She shudders at the thought.
As far as Lilah can tell in her current state, she has two options: fight against Caleb or fight with him. The first option is what her gut tells her to do. Alessandra put Caleb on this mission—he said so himself. But now he wants to help me? Is this all still part of her scheme? But if she leaves him, Alessandra will kill him and his sister. I don’t want anyone to die because of me. Only Alessandra.
Lilah sighs. She looks at Caleb and gasps when she sees a wraith standing behind him. The custard-colored hair wisps around her head, obscuring Verna’s face. She lifts a hand, reaches, reaches, and stops, pausing with her hand floating above his shoulder. Caleb wheels around and the wraith vanishes.
“What is it?” He rushes to her.
Lilah can’t breathe. Her mind riots over what her eyes have seen. But is it a warning or a blessing? Her lungs struggle, the tissue fading to a soft pink. Lilah gasps. “Okay. Make an oath to me.”
“How about this instead?” Caleb kneels and places a hand over his heart. “I pledge to Aura that my words to you are truthful and that I will defend you with what skills you may demand. I pledge this to you under my own will, until death.”
Eyes wide, Lilah swallows. It’s not some meaningless promise that passes Caleb’s lips. He recited the Warrior’s oath, binding the two of them together. She grimaces as it takes hold and forms what will be an identical signa on the back of her hand and his, a perfect circle. Lilah takes a deep breath and the pain dissipates—she’s experienced much worse—but when she glances to Caleb, he wears a grimace.
“Well, this is considerably more than what I asked for.” Any doubt Lilah has about him fades with the pain.
A bind is permanent—as far as she knows—and though there are several kinds, the only one more powerful than a Warrior’s oath is one for marriage. Typically, a Warrior’s oath is made between soldiers and generals, so that one can become many. The army’s morale would be known by the general without having to ask because the bind creates a connection between him or her and each soldier. It allows the general to have influence over the actions and emotions of the soldiers under his command. Subtle though it is, still, it creates an intimacy.
A strange expression passes over Caleb’s features, but then he smiles and raises an eyebrow. “Is it settled then?”
“Yes, it’s settled,” she says.
“I can summon a teleporter?” Caleb says in reply to Lilah’s question of how they will get to the seer, Cassandra of the Lockwood.
Cassandra of the Lockwood is the only seer. Lilah muses to herself, thinking of how the woman doesn’t even have a proper name, but rather, is named after the forest where she lives. Lilah must hear this prophecy for herself. She must. Then, perhaps things will make sense.
Lilah continues in a direction, no less sure of each step than she is of the last. Her breath is quick and fleeting, the pain in her back excruciating, worse than any brand. Her vision swirls every now and again, and forces her to stop, sit, and wait until it passes.
“Lilah, stop.” Caleb takes hold of her shoulder.
She swivels. “Don’t touch me.” She no longer trusts herself. I don’t want to hurt you.
He drops his hand from her arm. “I have to summon a teleporter. Cassandra lives too far for us to safely travel there and we’re losing daylight. Everyone at the sanctuary by now has realized that you’re gone and are likely searching. Alessandra, too. Are you hearing me?”
Lilah groans, low and deep, like a wolf. “Yes. Okay? You’re right. I’m not thinking.”
His face a mask of concern, Caleb nods. “It won’t take me long.”
Lilah sits next to Caleb, who bows his head and chants intelligible words just beneath his breath. If Lilah channels all her attention into her senses, she could make out a murmur, an echo of the incantation that Caleb uses. So, he’s a procurer . . .
The air around the pair changes, molds to their forms with a fierce humid
ity, and then subsides. Ten paces behind where they sit, a figure appears. A large owl howls three times before springing from the figure’s shoulder and climbing above the trees.
Lilah stands. “That’s quite an entrance,” she says, raising one eyebrow.
“I don’t think he makes many of them anymore.” Caleb’s voice is unreadable, and Lilah turns her head up to look at his expression, but she finds no clues into his thoughts.
The hermit draws closer, his leaf-made clothes rustling with each step. “Where to now, friend?” The hermit’s voice gurgles with a strange accent Lilah can’t place. Though on second thought, she wonders if the quality to his voice is simply from lack of use.
“We’d like to go see Cassandra of the Lockwood,” Caleb answers.
Lilah imagines a quiet life such as his but doesn’t get very far until her imagination dries up. She stares at the sky, knowing rain is on the way, then remembers Verna saying, Even if you can’t see the blue, you know it’s there. Don’t you? Lilah would stare up at the sky, but for all her staring, she could never see the blue. A profound sadness rolls over her and a tear rolls down her cheek. She wipes it away as soon as it makes it to her chin and then she pulls her attention back to the hermit. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Caleb glancing sideways at her.
The hermit’s hooded and wrinkled eyes shoot open. “The seer? And what business do you have with her?” His grizzled features morph into a scowl.
“I’ve business with her,” Lilah says.
The hermit’s gaze shifts to Lilah as if he only now is noticing her presence. He slowly lowers his eyes over her, then brings them back to her own. “A Nox warrior?” he says, winking at Caleb.
Lilah smirks, unbidden. She clears her throat and sets her mouth.
The hermit makes an eerie and strange clicking noise with his tongue, and the horned owl lands gracefully on his shoulder. “Come, take my hands.” She takes his left, while Caleb his right. The hermit deeply inhales and tightens his grasp on Lilah’s hand. “Close your eyes.” Lilah lets the heaviness in her lids lay them down over her eyes. The world goes dark. A shuttering noise pierces the air. Lilah’s body gravitates toward something unseen. “Here we are,” the hermit says, releasing her hand and Caleb’s. “This is as far as I can go with her tagging along.”
Premonition Page 19
