Surrender

by Rhiannon Paille

  “You came without a messenger,” she said as she dropped her knees off the windowsill and pushed herself gingerly to her feet. She was much taller than Desaunius, at least by a head, if not more. She wandered over to the bureau and pulled out a drawer, lighting a stick of incense with her fingers and placing it in a holder in front of the mirror.

  Desaunius glared at her. “I had no time to send a messenger. And you don’t look busy.”

  Atara hummed thoughtfully and put her hands together. “No, I’m not occupied.”

  “Then you have time to listen to my dilemma,” Desaunius said.

  Atara stretched her hand towards a cluster of pillows. “Come sit. I’ll have Melianna bring some tea.” She went to gesture to her servant, who was nowhere near them, but Desaunius held up a hand.

  “I won’t sit,” she said, her voice so thin and papery it almost cracked. “And you will understand me.” Despite Atara’s station on Avristar, Desaunius was older and wiser. She was vexed by Atara’s dreamy presence. Atara was smarter than she acted; her lack of seriousness bothered her.

  Atara grasped her elbow with one hand and narrowed her eyes. “Speak, and I will tell you what I see.” On top of her sovereignty, Atara had always been a gifted seer and healer. Her adepts in the Lands of Men always benefited from her guidance and foresight.

  Desaunius took in a breath and closed her eyes for a moment, the heady scent of dragon’s blood wafting through the room. “My apprentice Kaliel has recently been to the Great Oak.”

  Atara let her arms drop to her sides. “And this is why you did not send a messenger?”

  Desaunius pulled her jaw taut. She squeezed her fist, and lifted her chin so she could see Atara better. She was finished with toying with the Lady of the Land. If she needed to be startled then she would be. “A seed to bloom knows not if it will be, a flower or a weed, and cannot change its form once matured. Bloom the weed of temptation and expire the great garden of life. Bloom the flower of sacrifice and sustain the great garden in strife.” Her words bounced off the walls in the vast chamber.

  Atara’s eyes widened. She backed up and slumped into a heap of pillows, her lips mouthing words, but no sound came out.

  “You tell me what you think it means,” Desaunius said evenly as she crossed her arms.

  “A catalyst,” Atara replied, her voice low. She glanced at Desaunius, her eyes full of sorrow. “Your apprentice will play a great part in a war.” She whispered the last word, as though she was afraid to say it.

  “My apprentice is only a child.”

  “She won’t be one forever. We can’t be sure where—”

  “Obviously in the Lands of Men.” She didn’t want to entertain the thought of Avristar under attack.

  Atara dully nodded. She pushed herself out of the pillows and began pacing the floor. “Yes, of course, the Lands of Men, but the parable, it means a great deal more.” Her lips curled around her fist as she closed her eyes, appearing deep in thought.

  Desaunius frowned then smiled with amusement. “You would revel in the glory, wouldn’t you?” She snorted and crossed her arms. “This isn’t about glory or champions of Avristar. Kaliel is …” She was unsure how to explain it. The girl was shy, clumsy and mischievous. She didn’t have any of the qualities of a warrior much less a champion. It was hard to see her as anything but fragile and naïve.

  “It doesn’t matter. The Great Oak is never wrong,” Atara said.

  “Do you think it believes what you do about the girl?”

  Atara’s eyes widened then settled into apparent denial. “That she’s a Flame? No, and it’s nearly impossible.”

  Desaunius gulped. “Yes, with there being only nine of them in all the lands.”

  Atara let out a breath. “I didn’t mean that. Yes, the odds are slim, but why would we need one? We have the armies, the Valtanyana are locked away.”

  Desaunius glanced at the incense on the bureau, the chalky ash tumbling onto polished mahogany. She didn’t want to follow Atara’s train of thought at all. “The Flames have only been used in great wars.”

  “And Avristar has not seen war in thousands of years. Which is why she couldn’t possibly be a Flame,” Desaunius said. “The idea is ridiculous.”

  Atara straightened her back and stopped pacing; she made eye contact with Desaunius, her mouth set in a straight line. “Either way, she is a catalyst, someone who will make a difference. I think it best that she comes to me, trains here in Orlondir. Evennses is a place for children and she won’t be a child when she leaves Avristar.”

  Desaunius hardened her gaze. “I always hoped she would never leave.”

  Atara smiled faintly. “She’ll be strong when she does. Come, will you stay for tea in the courtyard?”

  “Nay, I should return and deliver the news,” Desaunius said as Atara drifted out of the room, entering into her dreamy façade again. She grimaced to herself: there was no way Kaliel would ever survive the Lands of Men the way she was now, and the way the Great Oak made it sound, she wouldn’t have a choice. She followed the Lady of Avristar through the corridors towards the courtyard.

  • • •

  Kaliel got tired of searching. She hadn’t found any of the ingredients for the tea and she was becoming irritated that Pux wasn’t in his usual spot.

  “Pux!” she called into the forests.

  No answer.

  The birds chirped back at her and a rabbit darted through the trees. She sighed and threw her hands up in the air. She turned around in circles and then planted her back firmly against a tree trunk. Just as she was sinking down to the ground a hand reached for her shoulder and tapped it hard. Her head whipped in the direction of the tap, but no one was there.

  “Boo!” Pux jumped out from the other side of the tree and startled her. She screamed and snapped her head in the opposite direction.

  “You! I’ve been looking everywhere!”

  Pux grinned arrogantly while she glowered at him. “The master of disguise.”

  “How about I chase you back to Luenelle?” she shrieked.

  Pux shuddered. “She doesn’t like me.”

  “I know.” Kaliel frowned. She pushed her back off the tree. “I have to find herbs to make a tea. Would you like to help?” Her rotten mood from earlier faded away. When she was with Pux life was uncomplicated. She wished she could feel that way all the time.

  “Sure, but I don’t know the names of any herbs.”

  “All you need to do is tell me if you see any flowers or plants growing anywhere on the trail.”

  Pux raised an eyebrow. “Is that all?”

  “I’ll decide if I need them or not.”

  He seemed to contemplate it. “Okay, I’m in. Where do we begin?”

  She thought for a moment. “Was there anything behind that tree you jumped out from?”

  “Mushrooms.”

  “No, don’t need those.”

  “Good because they were yummy.”

  Her jaw dropped. “You ate them?”

  He grinned from ear to ear. “I turned them green first.”

  Kaliel turned, disgusted by the childishness of her friend. A day ago she would have thought it was funny, but today it just made her frustrated. She peered between two trees, trying to look for chamomile flowers, but there was only grass and brush behind them. Pux skipped along behind her, using his magic to turn leaves different colors.

  “That’s odd,” he said.

  “What is?”

  “Leaves.”

  Kaliel cocked her head to one side in confusion.

  “They only turn yellow, brown, red, orange and green.”

  She poked her head through another break in the trees and looked around. She was almost certain there was nothing there until her eyes caught sight of them. There was a perfect batch of chamomile flowers growing just out of her peripheral vision. She turned back to Pux. “What color were you trying for?”

  “Blue.” He caught up to her and watched while she struggled awk
wardly to fit her leg around the overgrown stump that forced the two trees together. Once she was on the other side she looked back at him.

  “What happened?” She rummaged around on the ground, picking up the flowers. She held them like a bouquet as she tried to climb back over the stump.

  He scrunched up his nose. “It turned to a puke color.”

  She hopped down and made eye contact with him as she put the bouquet of flowers in the basket he held out for her. “Maybe the land is telling you not to mess with it.”

  Pux frowned. “Maybe I’ll turn the sky pink.”

  “Not that you could!” Kaliel laughed. Normally she would have encouraged him to try it and she would have warned him about getting caught for doing so, but today she found him more impish than naïve.

  “How many days are left on the countdown?” he asked, changing the subject.

  Kaliel shot him a glance. “I went yesterday.”

  “Oh.”

  She noticed the bitterness in his tone as she continued to scour the lands for herbs. Luenelle was right: he wasn’t better for more than holding the basket. She plodded up the path without answering him and he came shuffling after her like a forlorn animal. “Nothing is different,” she reassured him. She found a patch of lemongrass growing near a tree and carefully ripped up a few strands.

  “What did the Great Oak say to you?” He sounded wary.

  Kaliel brushed him off. “I can’t tell you.” She spotted a hibiscus flower on the south side of a tree.

  “I told you mine.”

  “Yours was different. Mine was …” Her face burned with embarrassment and fear.

  “It was bad?”

  She sighed. “Desaunius went to Orlondir.”

  Pux’s eyes widened like someone had punched him in the ribs. Stumbling back, he tripped on his own feet and landed on his back, his elbows digging into the mud. “You’ll leave me,” he squeaked.

  Kaliel couldn’t help the knots forming in her stomach. He was older than she was, but he acted much younger. She knelt down beside him and threw her arms around him, squeezing like she needed him to breathe. “Not right away. Luenelle hasn’t been called. She’ll leave long before me.”

  Pux seemed unusually disturbed by this. “You aren’t a child anymore.”

  She giggled. “I haven’t grown up in one day.” She was trying her best to calm his nerves so she could forget all about the Great Oak and concentrate on making chamomile tea. On the inside her emotions were crashing within her and she hoped he wouldn’t speak the words she was thinking.

  “But something is different.”

  “Aye,” she whispered. “I can’t be afraid.”

  She crumpled onto her knees and crawled over to the tree. She turned around and sat with her back against the trunk, taking deep breaths. She became very quiet and all Pux did was stare at her. “All will be well,” she said. She stood and stuck out her hand to help him to his feet.

  Pux avoided her touch and got to his feet on his own. They slowly walked through the forest back to the House of Kin.

  * * *

  8-The Valtanyana

  There was a bustle of kinfolk around her, trying to cook dinner. Kaliel took a spot away from the commotion and began cutting up the herbs she had collected.

  “How did you manage to take so long finding these?” Luenelle asked.

  Kaliel looked at the chamomile flowers and winced. “To be honest, I don’t even know if I have the right ones.”

  Luenelle cringed and went to work sorting the herbs. She helped Kaliel add the ingredients to the pot. When they were finished they hung the pot over top of the flames. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  “I hope so.”

  The water boiled and Luenelle took it off the hook with a rag. She set it on the counter and took out a clay pitcher and two cups from one of the cupboards. “You can steep it now.”

  Kaliel took the pot and steeped the tea into the pitcher, then poured herself and Luenelle a cup. She took a deep breath. “Do you want to try it first?”

  “Together,” Luenelle said. Both girls held the cups to their lips, blowing the steam off the hot liquid before taking a sip.

  “Blech!” Kaliel exclaimed as she swallowed a mouthful of rotten tea.

  “Blech!”

  Kaliel sighed and looked at her friend. “I didn’t get the right herbs.”

  “Gah ... it tastes like bindweed!” Luenelle exclaimed. She took the cups to the door and dumped the liquid back into the land at the tree line.

  “I’ll never get it right,” Kaliel said as she fled from the kitchen. She ran down the corridor towards the common room. All she wanted was to escape to the depths of the lake, to swim with the merfolk and to feel the way she had when Krishani’s eyes were on her as they had been that night in Orlondir. However, as she turned the corner she noticed a small old woman in the common room. Desaunius had returned. She gasped and doubled over in shock. “Elder!”

  Desaunius had a forlorn expression on her face. “I must speak with you, Kaliel.” Her eyes darted towards the kinfolk that trickled through the room, playing with toys. “Can we go to your quarters, please?”

  Kaliel nodded. She followed Desaunius up the stairs to her room and tried to avoid the curious expressions of the kinfolk around her. When they were upstairs, Desaunius sat on the bed and motioned for her to sit as well. She reluctantly obeyed.

  “There comes a time, Kaliel,” Desaunius began. She looked afraid; faint redness circling her eyes as though she had been weeping. She took Kaliel’s hand in her own; it was trembling. “There comes a time when a glorious opportunity comes to us.”

  Kaliel only gave her a hard stare, allowing the words to sink in. Desaunius wasn’t allowed a chance to continue when the anger within Kaliel crashed against the fear and sadness she had been feeling all day. “You’re sending me away,” she shouted at the top of her lungs. She sprang to her feet. “I knew it would change everything, that wretched tree, it’s vile!” She looked at Desaunius, who was taken aback. Before her elder could speak another word she dashed out of her room and clambered down the stairs.

  She couldn’t even think except how much she needed Krishani. It wouldn’t be so hard if she knew she would see him again. But being sent away meant the Lands of Men, and that scared her most. She broke into a sprint when she reached the meadow and continued until she hit the forbidden path. She skillfully skipped over roots and crevasses, as fast as her feet could carry her she wound her way down the path until she found the dead end.

  “Let me through,” she commanded.

  “Such anger, child,” the tree said.

  Kaliel’s heart ached. She wanted to pound her fists against the tree, but she knew it would do nothing. She sunk to her knees. “Please, I beg you. I want to see them one last time.” She touched the tree to share her torment and it received the message. The hole appeared between the trunks and she disappeared through it.

  Kaliel stared briefly at the magnificence of the late-afternoon sky as she ripped off her green dress and stumbled into the water. Anger bubbled in her veins as she felt for the ledge of the sandbar. Her toes curled around it as she plunged herself into the depths. She called out to the merfolk with her thoughts, but they were muddled and instead of the usual cooing it came out scrambled. She peddled on like a frog, using her legs to force herself deeper. Even when the pressure in her ears built up she continued on. They burst and her head swelled with pain. None of it mattered if they were to send her away to the Lands of Men, if everything she had ever known was going to change.

  Her mind drifted to Pux. He would be so angry when he found out. What was so important about the Great Oak’s message? Why did she need to go anywhere?

  She fought to control herself as the water became unnaturally cold. Almost at the bottom, she pushed further, wondering why the merfolk hadn’t come yet. She was sure they would notice her presence. Her hand curled around something at the bottom of the lake—packed mud. She smiled to h
erself—reaching the bottom was something she had always wanted to do. It reminded her of the shimmering rocks underneath the waterfall in Orlondir. Kaliel smiled as she turned around and prepared to swim to the surface.

  Something crept around her foot. She pulled away, wondering if it was her merfolk friends, but it wrapped her leg tighter and something slimy pressed against her skin. She panicked. The mysteries of the deep weren’t something she had considered before this. She paused, allowing her body to go limp. She thought about the language of the merfolk, hoping they would arrive soon.

  Kaliel contemplated her options: wait longer or do something to free herself. She cringed at her decision and opened her mouth, letting a loud coo roll off her tongue. She knew she would lose almost all her air in doing so, but she had no other choice. Unfortunately, her idea didn’t pan out the way she had planned. Her call must have frightened the beast that shackled her leg because instead of loosening its grip on her, it tightened. She tried to scream, but her lungs filled with water. She began to kick and bat at the creature frantically trying to free herself. It only gripped her leg harder in response. Kaliel felt faint. She fought until she had no will, and then passed out.

  The blackness was like the thick mist that surrounded the island. It made her feel weightless and free. The pressure in her ears subsided, and everything grew quiet. All she could think about were the warnings she had been given, and how she hadn’t listened. There was a roaring sound from far away and something warm hit her cheeks followed by something cold. Kaliel gasped, coughed and sputtered as she splashed around in the lake, her head above water. There was a hand clamped to her forearm, holding her in place. She shook it off, and the slick black merfolk dove back into the lake, leaving her to find the shore on her own.

  She paddled clumsily to the ledge and fell on her knees. She took deep breaths in the waist-deep water, trying to catch her breath. Shaking her head in disbelief, reality crashed down on her. There was something to fear in the lake. She turned towards the shore and saw a parade of kinfolk from the House of Kin staring at her with mixed looks of disbelief and disappointment. Her stomach churned; she was in more trouble than ever this time.