• • •
It was the pressure and the lack of air that made swimming in the pond scary, not the stories about the merfolk dragging unsuspecting kinfolk to the bottom. The merfolk were actually gentle creatures, cooing and floating around her, pulling at Kaliel’s hands and wondering at her differences. She wasn’t sure what to expect from Orlondir, the royal city of Avristar. In Evennses the lake was an hour walk from the House of Kin and the beach was blocked by trees. The trees never let the kinfolk see the lake, let alone swim in the waters. They had the creek for that.
She shook her head, disappointed she hadn’t been able to touch the bottom of the pond. It made her curious, the lake, the pond, the waterfall. She knew all the familiar stories, the ones about the dangerous merfolk, the ones about the tarnished Lands of Men across the lake. She heard stories of the mists, the protective shield that turned the lake into an endless sea. There was no coming or going from Avristar without an ancient incantation. At fourteen, Kaliel was nowhere near old enough to know it; the most she knew was land magic. And she was bad at it.
Without the threat of danger in Avristar it was hard to imagine anything lethal in the waters, across the waters, in the pond. Still, her elders seemed vexed by the merfolk. It might have been beginner’s luck, but she found them tame and playful.
She worked her fingers through her hair and a prickly feeling washed over her. She glanced at the falls and saw them—eyes watching her, one blue and one green. The rest of their form was masked by a black cloak, and it disappeared behind the falls as quickly as it had appeared. Self-consciousness made her cheeks turn pink as she left her wet hair and went to climb the stony stairway.
Her slippers fought to grip the rocks and she had to use her hands to pull herself up and across the platform behind the falls. Nobody was there. She frowned and crossed to the cliff on the other edge. She glanced down, seeing sand and the outlines of vegetation.
“Pux?” she called. He was the feorn friend that had told her about the waterfall. She thought he went back to the castle already. She also thought she was alone when she decided to strip naked and swim with the merfolk. Her knuckles turned white against the stone as she gripped it hard, fear ripping through her at the thought of the eyes. She scanned the ground one more time and decided she imagined it. As she rose to her feet and turned, a scream erupted from her lips. She grabbed the clammy stone wall beside her and cursed her luck.
Whoever it was stood on the opposite edge of the platform, blocking her only escape.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice deep and full of alarm.
She tried to find her feet as her head swelled with dizziness, her cheeks flushing. Mist drenched her, creating water spots across her ivory dress. She tried to find her confidence, but the bravery she had earlier drained away. Her knees felt weak.
“Was it you?” she asked, her voice ripping through the air like a ghost.
He froze, didn’t say anything for a long time, which made her heart hammer even harder in her chest. “I saw you in the pond.”
She gripped the stone harder. “How much did you see?” She thought nobody ever came to the waterfall, that she could keep her curiosity to herself. She thought she could avoid the hard stares of the elders, but this made her fainter by the second. Not knowing who he was, not knowing what he wanted, it left her trapped in limbo.
“I saw you wring your hair out,” he said.
She exhaled loudly and pushed herself off the stone. She found her balance even if she had to keep her hand planted against the wall to do it. She waited for him to move, but he stood there like a statue. Nervousness flitted through her.
“I should return, Elder.” She stammered on the last word, knowing that saying it would make it true, but she had no choice. He probably was an elder and she was probably in a lot of trouble.
He didn’t move.
She felt worse. “Do you want to take me back to the castle?” There was something belittling about being carted around red-handed. “I thought I was alone.” Her shoulders shook.
He buried his face in the rocks and pressed himself against the smooth stone. “You weren’t alone.” His voice was thick and almost rude.
She frowned as she neared him. “I know.”
“And I’m not an elder,” he added.
“Oh.” The guilt waned a little. It was really hard to tell with his height and the cloak concealing every part of him. “Then who are you?” She stood behind him, feeling the heat radiating off his features.
“Does it matter? It’s not like I’m going to tell anyone,” he snapped.
His words stung. She opened her mouth ready to fire something vile back at him, but closed it, her thoughts circling around nothing that would hurt as much.
“Goodnight,” she forced, trying to make the pleasant sound of her voice as unpleasant as possible. She went to descend the stone incline and forgot it was slippery.
“Wait,” he said.
She turned and her foot slid on the frictionless rock; she careened towards the pond. Her heart wildly pounded in her chest as her arms flailed, trying to find something to hold onto. She couldn’t believe she was having a clumsy moment right then and there. Her cheeks turned bright red as she thought of tumbling down the rocks and splashing into the pond. And then there were arms circling her waist and warm fabric against her smooth skin; her body pressed against something hard. She felt disoriented and elated all at once. A hand slid into hers and warmth was replaced by cold. Her stomach did flip-flops as she thought of pressing herself against the warmth again.
“Maybe I should take you back to the castle,” he grumbled, his voice gruff.
She opened her eyes and found herself perched on the stone incline, mismatched eyes knifing into hers, his hand still curled around her fingers. He squeezed them hard, trying to keep her in place. He sounded annoyed with her, but his expression said it was all concern. Her eyes hardened as his words sunk in.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
He let go and retreated behind the falls. She almost fell on her knees, but found the wall and scaled across the stone incline. She paused at the edge of the platform and peered into the cave; it was something she hadn’t noticed before. She crossed her arms and glowered at him. “I’m not leaving until you tell me who you are.”
He pushed the hood off his face, revealing long locks of jet-black hair, a sharp narrow face, high cheekbones and ghostly white skin. Her knees trembled as he stared at her, clearly mesmerized.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she said quietly as her eyes hit the ground.
“You first. Who are you and why haven’t I seen you before?” He pushed his hands into his sleeves and gripped his elbows.
She shook her head in disbelief, looking for some excuse to avoid the question. Defeated, she gulped, digging her toe into the stone. “Kaliel of Evennses,” she muttered, curling a strand of hair behind an elongated ear.
He continued staring at her. “Aren’t you old enough to come to the Fire Festivals?”
She raised an eyebrow and thought back to her home, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips. “Old enough ... but um …” She cast around for a way to explain that she was always tardy for her lessons, always botched assignments and was never where she was supposed to be. Pux was worse; the elders spent more time chasing after him, but she wasn’t any better.
He folded his arms against his chest. “Don’t tell me you’re always like that.”
She furrowed her brow and shot him a look. “Always like what?”
“Endangering yourself?” He almost smirked, but his lips spread into a straight line and he nodded towards the waterfall.
She looked at the ground, her cheeks turning pink even though she didn’t want them to. She was about to answer him when she realized all of this was avoidance. She pulled her arms tighter across her chest and stood up straight, making direct eye contact with him. It made the butterflies return, but she tried to shush them with her
will power. “You still haven’t told me who you are.”
He shifted away from her. For a second she thought he was going to dive into the waterfall, but he stopped and dropped his arms to his sides. “Krishani of Amersil.”
That wasn’t something she expected. It made her lips twitch into a frown as he put more distance between them, another step back, and what seemed like the length of a field. If there was anything she knew about Avristar it was that Amersil was full of the handpicked apprentices of the land. They were able to command the elements, move mountains with their mind, make rain, manipulate fire. Most of the other kinfolk listened intently to stories of their greatness. They were private, and aloof. The worst part of it was they knew they were better than everyone else, and they constantly reminded everyone about it with their ignorance.
“Oh,” she said.
His expression changed. It was like he was testing her reaction, his eyes bashful and embarrassed. She didn’t have anything else to say so she just stared at him, curiosity and intrigue crossing her face. Moments passed, their eyes lost in a lock, and then he let out a sigh and turned towards the falls.
“You haven’t heard of Amersil have you?”
She frowned. “Yes I have.” She dropped her hands to her side and began rolling up the hem of her dress.
“Then you should know the stories.” There was something tortured behind his words. She uncrossed her arms and pushed off the stone.
She shrugged. “You’re not like the stories.”
He turned back, a smile creeping across his lips. “Is that what you told yourself about the merfolk?”
She shrugged again. “They’re not like the stories, either.”
He moved closer. “You’re lucky to be alive.”
She twisted her hands together, pressing them against her knees. She felt nauseous, something gnawing at her gut. The words struck a chord with her, but she couldn’t figure out why. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Is that why you were watching me?”
He turned green. “Um …” His cheeks flared a pinkish color and he ran a hand through his hair. His eyes couldn’t lie: they were full of concern. “Morbid curiosity,” he muttered, trying to force a smirk, but he looked like he wanted to vomit. “At least someone could tell the elders what happened if …”
She put a hand around her neck and let out a short breath. “You mean if I turned up dead?” That was more unheard of on Avristar than war. She regretted it the moment she said it.
He shook his head and passed her, clambering down the incline. “Yeah, that.” He reached the bottom and went for the break in the trees. She slid down the rock as quickly as she could and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him away from the path.
“I’m sorry,” she squeaked, silently begging him to stay. “I won’t go back in the water if you don’t want me to.” Her voice cracked as urgency fled through her. She felt hot, like her entire body was pulsating with fire.
He turned, his fingers entwining with hers, his eyes working their way over her body, making her feel naked again. Tingles spread through her chest and for a second she thought she would pass out
He glanced at the waterfall and slid away from her. She let out a breath as he passed.
“Can I show you something?” He climbed the stone behind her and moved towards the falls.
She frowned, but followed him back to the platform. She pressed her shoulder against the rock as she watched him push his hands together, take deep breaths and plant his feet on the stone. She cocked her head to the side as his cloak fluttered open, revealing a cream-colored tunic, leather belt and black breeches. She hadn’t noticed how lean he was with the bulky cloak in the way. She choked on her breath and coughed.
He glanced at her and worry streaked his face. “You need to close your eyes.”
She raised an eyebrow, but did as she was told, the magnitude of his presence only stronger when she couldn’t see him. She could feel him better, his unstable energy, his mismatched eyes, his strong hands and lanky frame. It was hard not to think about the warmth he emitted when he touched her.
Moments passed with her eyes closed, her thoughts drifting to the Elmare Castle, to Pux and Luenelle and her elder Desaunius. She would be in a lot of trouble if she got caught. She twisted her toe in the ground, uncertainty coursing through her. She knew the merfolk were dangerous, but she swam with them anyway and someone had seen her. Part of her wondered if he would tell the elders. There was the gnawing feeling in her gut that what she did now would color what the Great Oak would say to her when she went back to Evennses. She was nearly old enough to hear the words of the ancient tree.
“Kaliel?” Krishani asked.
Her eyes snapped open and she was met with a handful of ice, a smooth round ball attached to his hand. Her mouth hung open. It stung as she ran her fingers along it, breathing over it, causing the top layer to turn to water. She drew her fingers underneath it, separating it from his frozen hand, and tremors moved through her. It was the most amazing thing she had ever seen anyone do in her life.
“It’s so cold,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his. They seemed far away, dull and exhausted. He dropped onto one knee and winced.
It was her turn to feel concerned. “Are you okay?” She cradled the orb in one hand and put her hand on his shoulder. He shook his head while gasping for breath.
“I’ve never … tried something like that.” His hands fell to his lap, his head drooping towards the stone.
“Why would you try now?” she blurted, and regretted it. She tried to withstand the coldness of the ice, but she put the orb on the ground, her hand numb.
He shook his head and tried to stand. “It’s you, you’re …” He moved to his feet and pulled his hands into his cloak. He looked away as she let her hand linger on his cloaked forearm.
She didn’t know what to say. The ice continued to melt away at her feet and he was the most confusing person she had ever met. “Is that why you were so harsh?”
“We’re not allowed to speak to outsiders.”
Nervous attraction raced through her as she pulled her hand away and dropped her gaze to the stony ground. “Then, why me?”
He looked at her briefly, his expression unreadable. He pushed past her, descending the incline. “I’m only an apprentice.” He turned the corner and disappeared through the trees.
She picked up the orb and ran after him. “Wait!”
He stopped, his expression mangled.
“Will I ever see you again?” she asked.
“Probably not.” He turned, the cloak billowing around him as he stalked away. She watched him until he was nothing but a shadow amidst the trees and sunk into the dirt, burying her face in her hands. A hollow feeling spread through her as the orb slid into the mud, melting at her side.
“Farewell,” she whispered as the first signs of dawn erupted over the horizon. She glanced up and a sticky feeling raced through her. They had been there all night. She sighed and picked up what was left of the orb, trudging along the path, loathing the punishment she would endure for her mischief.
* * *
2-Mischief
Thick forest vegetation surrounded the trees as Kaliel traipsed along the thin, winding path. There wasn’t a lot of space between the trees and shrubs that dotted the south side of the mountain, but it provided a sense of comfort. She was well-covered; not many of the kinfolk were brave enough to trespass for all sorts of reasons. Maybe nobody would catch her after all. She smiled to herself as the path curved around a patch of ferns and trees dropped away, giving more room for shrubbery. She neared hedges on the side of the main road into Orlondir. They didn’t have a lot of roads; the only ones thick enough for carts were the ones from the three provinces of Avristar—Evennses in the south, Amersil in the west and Araraema in the east.
Kaliel ducked behind the pristinely trimmed hedges. She peered over them on her tiptoes and breathed a sigh of relief. No one was stalking the grounds. Desaunius wasn’t sta
nding on the moat with her arms crossed, pacing back and forth like Kaliel had imagined. All she had to do was cross the bridge and push open the big heavy doors and she’d be inside the courtyard.
She pushed through the hedge, careful to conceal the orb. She quickened her pace and skipped over the bridge, glancing over the railing at the fishes and swans. Her frail hands pushed against the big doors and even though it took a lot of force, she managed to get them open wide enough so she could slide her body through. The courtyard was empty. Trellises crawled along the walls and statues adorned the walkways. Kaliel moved to the archway leading into the Grand Hall.
Beyond the archway were two wide staircases, one leading to the west, the other to the east. Ahead of her was the continuous creamy marble floor that stretched across the hall and curled around a fountain in the center. A glamorous chandelier of glowing crystals hung above the fountain, while water trickled off of lily pad-shaped sheaths into the pool below. It always made her breath catch, being the most sophisticated room in all of Avristar. In the dawn light the hall was empty. She crept up the staircase to the west and passed the large double doors to the library. About halfway down the corridor she reached the tiny hallway that led to the individual rooms for the kinfolk.
She almost jumped out of her skin as she turned the corner and saw a figure standing in the shadows. A hand flew to her mouth to stifle a scream and the figure moved, showing themselves. She almost let out a growl.
“What are you doing there?” she whispered.
Pux—with his hairy face, vest, and animal legs clad in knee length breeches—frowned at her. “Where have you been all night?”
Kaliel glanced at the floor and took a deep breath. “At the waterfall.”
Pux seemed frightened. “Why would you stay there?”
Surrender Page 2
