Kaliel sighed. He showed her where the waterfall was, but he never expected her to like it. He was so afraid of water he wanted her to go there and draw it for him in her journal. She could see from his expression he had stayed up all night waiting for her to return. “Sorry,” she muttered.
Pux smiled. “Never mind it.” He looped his arm through hers. “Come on, you can sit on my cot and tell me all about it.” He pulled her down the hallway, but Kaliel froze, remembering what had happened.
“I’m really tired. Can we talk about it later?”
Pux sighed. “Okay,” he said. “Besides, you do look terrible.”
Kaliel self-consciously lifted a hand to her cheek and shook her head. “Does it look like I’ve been anywhere?” She feared Desaunius noticing all the subtle differences in her appearance: splotchy cheeks, bags under her eyes, disheveled hair.
Pux inspected her, brushing a leaf out of her hair. “Try to sleep late then. They’ll be awake soon and I’ll distract them while you try not to look like you’ve spent the night in the bush.”
She gave him a half-smile. “Gee thanks.” He looped his arm through hers again and pulled her down the hallway to one of the six doors along it.
“Goodnight, milady,” Pux said. He tipped an imaginary hat as he opened the door for her and ushered her into the empty room. Kaliel half expected Desaunius to be sitting on the stool in front of the bureau, but it was empty. She let out a breath as she passed Pux and moved towards the cot. He swept around her and pulled back the quilt. Kaliel gave him a wistful look as she slid onto the cot and let him cover her with the blanket.
“Sleep well.” He winked as he bounded towards the door.
She laughed; it was always like that with Pux—playful and carefree. He paused at the doorway to look at her and she slumped into the pillow and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Goodnight!” she whispered loudly as she heard the door close.
Once he was gone, she let out a sigh and opened her eyes only to trace the patterns in the wooden beams above her. It was really hard not to think about what Krishani had said to her, and worse than that was the way he made her feel. She winced as she shifted and pulled out what was left of the orb of ice.
She rotated it in her hands, over and over again, repeating the conversation in her head. Krishani really wasn’t like the rest of them and that made her feel warm and tingly. She put the orb of ice on the blanket and let it soak into the quilt while she folded her hands across her lap. The Fire Festival was over; this was their last night in Orlondir. In the morning she would be going back to Evennses. She wasn’t even sure if she would be back for Beltane. With so many other kinfolk it was more likely someone else would go. She sighed as she realized he was right.
She probably wouldn’t see him again.
Not even if she wanted to.
• • •
Krishani glanced back at the Elmare Castle in the distance, its turrets glimmering against the sunset. The Brotherhood was on their way back to Amersil, already past the apple orchards. It was customary for the Brotherhood to stay after the Fire Festival; being part of the winner’s circle entitled them to a final feast with Lord Istar and Lady Atara, the appointed sovereigns of Avristar. Krishani had slogged through the meal, not really enjoying the sparkling water and honey-crusted quail. He had pushed a lump of bread through the sauce as he tried to make it look like he was eating. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to seeing girls. He saw them all the time at the festivals—elvens with fiery or chestnut hair, feorns with trimmed facial hair, even fae folk with shimmering skin and glass-like faces. The problem was he never met anyone like Kaliel. It wasn’t about her beauty; everyone on Avristar was beautiful. Well, maybe not the feorns, but the elvens and fae were breathtaking. It was more about her disposition. She was curious and naïve and it made him worry about her. He never worried about anyone he lived with; all of the brothers were independent, even scary at times considering the things they could do.
She didn’t have an air of arrogance about her, not at all. It was refreshing compared to the way he was ogled by the girls from Evennses and Araraema—not in a romantic sense; they were just awed by his very presence and often tripped over their words when talking at him. He never said anything, never even bothered to make eye contact with them.
But he saw Kaliel, in a way he’d never really seen anyone else in his life.
“What has you deep in thought?” Benir asked as he stepped into line with Krishani. The forests were drab, trees thickening around them as the path narrowed towards Amersil. Adoron led the brotherhood at the head of the pack with his staff in hand. It was carved with symbols that signified his triumphs. He had too many of them to count. Krishani glanced at Benir; the elven had blue eyes and tousled dirty blonde hair that he kept pushing out of his eyes. Benir might have been a couple of summers younger than Krishani, but he had more skill.
Krishani shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
Benir sighed. “Another year over.”
Krishani grimaced and then smiled at Benir. “Another year of triumphs.” He tried not to sound disgruntled. It was more triumphs for the rest of the brotherhood, but sometimes they didn’t notice that Krishani never won.
Benir beamed. “And more tales to tell in the Lands of Men!”
Knots formed in Krishani’s stomach as he thought of the nightmares, the endless sea of deaths that plagued his dreams. “Aye, the Lands of Men.” He pushed his hands into the wide sleeves of his cloak.
“Zulnas will take his last rite soon,” Benir continued.
Krishani didn’t like Zulnas. He was the oldest of the brothers, and the most boastful. Adoron and Sigurd wanted him to stay in Avristar and become an elder, but Zulnas was in pursuit of adventure. Krishani thought the Lands of Men were dangerous, but for Zulnas it seemed the other way around. The Lands of Men would fear him, and as a Judge, they would have full reason to.
“When will he marry the land?”
“Beltane as always,” Benir said. He seemed distracted as they trudged through the forest passing over the well-worn dirt path, their cloaks brushing along ferns at the feet of the trees. He looked at Krishani, his eyes full of concern. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“I heard about Tolemny. Talnas asked me to come with them to repair the damage.”
Krishani looked at the canopy and sighed. That was the first time he tried to pass the second rite, the one he was supposed to have passed almost four summers ago. He glanced at the trees, trying to see through them as far as his sight would allow. Rays of sunlight speckled throughout the shadows, making it difficult to see all that far.
“It was an accident,” he said as he quickened his pace, trying to put distance between himself and Benir. He was going to ask Adoron a random question, but Benir kept up with him.
“We never make mistakes, precision—”
“I know,” Krishani snapped. He tried to continue walking at a normal pace so the others didn’t notice, but he didn’t like where Benir was going with this. He didn’t have the courage to tell his brothers that even with all the training, when he tried to manipulate the elements, they lashed back at him and caused mass destruction to the land. Benir went quiet and Krishani wondered if he actually saw what had happened to Tolemny. “Did you go with them?”
Benir shook his head. “I was too busy with chores.”
Krishani stiffened and nodded. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“You didn’t pass the rite though,” Benir pointed out.
“Nay.”
“They’re going to make you do it again, soon probably.”
Krishani sighed and closed his eyes. He knew they would push him as much as they could, make him repeat the rite again and again until he passed it. It almost felt like his nightmares; how they came again and again without relent, as though if he saw enough bloodshed he would pass some other rite. The thought made him shudder as a swift cold wind blew through the trees.
/> Benir sniffed the air. “Almost home.”
Krishani smelled burnt hazelnuts and it reminded him of simpler times, summers long before the Great Oak’s parable and the Brotherhood, long before the rite, but never before the nightmares. No, there wasn’t a time he could remember before them.
He pulled his hood over his face and kept his eyes down as they passed the last stretches of forest into their village.
* * *
3-Hard Lessons
The trees whipped by Kaliel as she raced through the forests of Evennses. The path curled around the thick trees, their roots littering the ground like giant unmoving snakes. Her heart thumped fast as she skipped over another root. Then, without warning, her foot snagged and she slammed face first on the ground. She lay there for a moment stunned by the blow. She moved slowly, pushing herself onto her back and staring at the canopy of leaves that blotted out the night sky. She couldn’t see a single star yet. Breathing heavily she sat up, her body aching from the fall; she rubbed her torso with her delicate hands.
“You moved it,” she whispered.
“That I did not, Little Flame. You did not remember where it was.” The tree creaked at her in a deep voice. She was used to the familiar nickname the trees had given her, even if she had no idea what it meant.
“Nay.” She dusted off her ivory dress and smiled at the tall red cedar, placing her hand on its bark. “There’s nothing to light my way.” That was true; it was pitch black under the cover of the forest canopy. The tree remained silent as she continued down the path. Her fingertips brushed along the trunks of the trees. They grew so close together and their trunks were so thick they created what seemed like stone walls. As her fingers brushed along the bark of another, the wind rustled the leaves and she knew the lake was near. She needed the comfort of the waters, the heat inside of her burning to a point it was hard to think about anything but Krishani’s blue and green eyes.
Five moons had passed since the Fire Festival in Orlondir, and her frequent trips to the lake were the only thing that helped her escape her own dreams. These ones were of fire, startling her awake in the middle of the night, indigo-colored flames piercing her memory. They made her feel warm and restless inside.
The trees moved closer together and a dead end blocked her way. She sighed and slunk into the mud, her back against the bark. “I must see them,” she said.
“You can see them in the meadow.” The tree was not comforting.
“Not the stars.”
The tree didn’t speak. It creaked and groaned and revealed a small crevasse between itself and its neighboring tree. Kaliel placed her hand on the tree in thanks, sharing her magic with its roots. As she stepped through the small hole between them a tiny purple flower sprouted from the earth at the tree’s feet, something she was used to.
On the beach, the forest faded, her feet sunk into the sand. She wiggled her toes around the grains and padded towards the water. Her eyes beheld the brilliance of a million stars above her. They painted pretty pictures in the night sky, a slight reddish color streaked along with bright whites and all sorts of hues of blue. A sense of calm overwhelmed her as she moved her focus to the thin line of the horizon. It was a faint gray, the midnight blue of the sky melting with the deep dark purple of the water.
She unbuttoned her dress and left it on the beach. Her feet hit the water, it was warm. She walked a few paces and felt for the drop with her toes. The lake was known for being mysteriously deep. The water reached her waist when her toes curled around the ledge of underwater sand. She glanced back at the shore, her eyes burning with mischief before she dove into the water.
It was cold as she paddled through the murkiness, certain there was nothing to fear. She let her thoughts drift to the waterfall and Orlondir and shivered as the cold intensified.
Something curled itself around her ankle and she tensed. Its webbed hand stretched out on her leg and she heard a coo from the merfolk. She tried to relax; these merfolk were wild like the ones in Orlondir, but their home was bigger and deeper. More hands grabbed at her thighs and her forearms and she realized there was a swarm of them. They cooed at her in gentle tones, trying to make her relax, trying to make her trust them. She let her body go limp, knowing that fighting against so many would only force them to drag her deeper. She floated towards the surface and they took turns experimenting with the buoyancy of her body. It was hard to explain the feeling: like flying, but slower. She wasn’t brave like Pux. He climbed trees and jumped out of them and tackled her to the ground all the time. He was mischievous and naïve and she loved him for it. It made all the seriousness of lessons and rules that much easier.
After what seemed like forever they decided to drag her deeper, the surface draining away. The pastels of the stars blurred, fading to black as fear crept into her heart. She gulped as the merfolk pulled and pulled; their webbed hands like shackles on her limbs. It got colder, and it got darker. The air in her lungs bubbled out, making her starved for air. Pressure built up in her elongated ears and they popped. She hadn’t intended to fight them, but with the ache mushrooming across her temples she had no choice but to kick them until their hands left her legs. She peddled upwards, longing for the safety of the shore.
Her head breeched the surface. She gasped, taking in a breath of the mists settling around the lake. She swam to the ledge and placed her foot on it. She stood, water receding to her waist. The wind made her shiver as she walked towards the shore. She smiled to herself feeling tired enough to fall into a deep sleep. It was worth walking the fine line of danger.
“Kaliel,” a woman snapped.
She stopped in her tracks, water circling her ankles. Her stomach clenched as she glanced at the treeline on the edge of the beach. In the moonlight she could only make out the form, but she knew it was her elder. Tension built as she carried her naked body across the grass, and without giving it time to dry, threw on her ivory dress.
“Forbidden means forbidden,” Desaunius said firmly. She turned and slipped her tiny body through the crack provided by the tree. Kaliel followed silently, feeling disappointed at being caught. The woman walked skillfully through the dark, avoiding every root and overgrowth the path provided them. “What fascinates you so?” she asked as they stumbled through the forest.
Kaliel’s insides ached as the effects of the fall earlier took their course. She rubbed her ribs as she contemplated her answer. “Beauty.”
The woman paused for a moment and stepped over the root Kaliel had tripped on earlier that night. “The forests are beautiful.”
“Aye.” However, she was thinking about the scene that stretched out before her on the shore. She was still curious about the merfolk; there was something about them she would never know since her freedom had been compromised. A sticky feeling entered her as she thought of Krishani. How would she distract herself from thinking about him now?
“What is so beautiful about the lake?” the old woman asked.
Kaliel paused as she ran her hand along the trunk of a tree. Shh, she thought to herself as though the tree might decide to speak out loud in the presence of her elder. The tree remained still as they passed. “It’s the horizon. The way it meets with the sky is …”
The old woman crossed into the meadow and shuffled through the knee-high grass in the clearing. Kaliel followed, knowing the answer displeased her. They reached the porch at the House of Kin, the wide wooden platform stretched to either side of the house. A rocking chair and various carved wooden toys were strewn across it. Kaliel ascended the stairs as the old woman held the door open for her. The hearth fire was burning; light reflecting off the old woman’s face, revealing her pasty white skin and green eyes, identical features to Kaliel.
“You mustn’t return to the lake,” Desaunius said. “It is forbidden.”
Kaliel hung her head and looked at the winding staircase in the middle of the common room. “Aye.”
“And you will not be tardy for our lesson at dawn.”
Kaliel nodded as she retreated to her room.
• • •
“Kaliel!” Luenelle, the House Master, called.
Kaliel hastily pulled on her dress and slippers. She loathed the thought of seeing her elder disappointed, but she was already late. She wiped her face with her hands and combed her fingers quickly through her long white hair. She took a deep breath and left, descending the staircase that led to the common room. She glanced at the House Master.
“Good morning, Luenelle.” She smiled.
“Desaunius is waiting for you,” Luenelle said.
She nodded as she left the House of Kin, and broke into a run through the meadow. She spotted the thin path at the break of trees that led eastward to her elder’s cottage. The forest was no different than the one leading to the south—tall cedars lined the path, their thick trunks providing an obstacle course for the kinfolk. Kaliel thought about the night before. No doubt she would be lectured about the dangers of the merfolk and the establishment of peace between their world and Avristar.
The light of the sun barely reached the moist soil as she stepped lightly through the shadowy forest, taking care not to arrive covered in mud. The past fifteen summers on Avristar had been filled with awkwardness and peculiarity. She was a Child of Avristar, like Luenelle and the rest of the children living at the House of Kin, which meant she was born of the land itself. The only difference was her disposition. She was clumsy where they were precise; she was quiet where they were boisterous; and she was curious where they were cautious. She often felt separated from them despite their attempts to include her.
She saw the cottage through a break in the trees, a bed of flowers stretching out in the meadow that surrounded the small hollowed-out mound. Desaunius preferred to live in the most beautiful place in Evennses.
Kaliel exhaled as she took in the sweet scents in the air. She picked a purple flower from the field and walked towards the door. It was stained cherry red with natural dyes and made of naturally-formed woods. Her eyes traced the deep gouges between the thick branches. She knocked once and waited. There was a shuffle inside followed by footsteps. The door opened and the old woman retreated towards the kitchen.
Surrender Page 3
