Surrender

by Rhiannon Paille

  “Apparently not.” Shimma was disgruntled about their attempts to help Kuruny, their sister, all of which had failed because of Istar.

  “You still want her blood for the ritual, don’t you?”

  Shimma shot her a foxy smile. “It’s not want, it’s need.” She turned her attention back to the lovebirds. “If that continues I won’t get my chance.”

  Kazza shook her head as Krishani pulled Kaliel into his embrace again. “I have to stop watching this. I’ll let Kuruny know. Maybe we can separate them somehow.”

  “Aye, with him around we’ll never get near her.”

  “With him around you’ll likely get hurt,” Kazza said as she slunk into the forest brush, preparing to leave.

  Shimma turned and crossed her arms, stepping away from her vantage point. “I’ll wait until she’s alone.”

  * * *

  18-Dreams of Death

  Kaliel sat in the orchard with her journal in hand, scribbling down thoughts from the day’s lessons. Atara had been harsh, wanting to know what she could see in herself, but the truth was, she didn’t see anything but Krishani.

  She pressed her head against the back of the tree and sighed. Please bring good news, she thought. Krishani had left for Amersil, which made the castle walls seem even emptier. Hoping to ease her longing, she escaped to the orchard, but couldn’t face the waterfall. It would be different without him there. She looked at the branches above her, limbs littered with green leaves and little green unripe apples. It was summertime on Avristar.

  Evennses was a long ways away, and she hadn’t seen Pux since he visited at Samhain moons ago. She felt guilty for the way it was left with him. She hoped he would understand one day, but knowing him he wouldn’t. She wondered how he could be such a natural at things like alchemy and transporting. He had none of the knowledge she held, and yet he had the skills she only dreamed of possessing.

  What is it that I can’t see? Sometimes she felt like there was a block in her mind, something preventing her from progressing. She uncrossed her legs and looked at them. They were full of small blue bruises, which blended against the whitish pastels of her skin. Her slippers were muddy as always, and she bent her knees and pulled them off, leaving herself barefoot. She placed them beside her and looked at the trees. She felt deliriousness sinking in as she tried to find the unique part within herself, the thing that made her different. She used to feel it in Evennses—it was what made her awkward—but in Orlondir, there was nothing she affected.

  Maybe it was Evennses and not me? A leaf from the tree began floating towards her. She focused on it, allowing her energy to mix with the leaf. It turned, and then paused in midair, and turned again. She traced the outline of its veins, and watched it turn in ninety-degree angles, obeying her, as it remained there suspended. A light breeze passed through the orchard and dislodged her concentration. She looked at her slippers and the leaf landed on her head. She reached up and pulled it out of her hair.

  That was odd. Did you fall because I wanted you to fall?

  “Nay, it stayed because you willed it so, Little Flame,” a voice answered.

  Kaliel jumped away from the tree and looked around behind it. “Pux?” she asked as she searched the area.

  Nothing, only the sounds of the land met her ears. She heard a low hum-like laughter coming from somewhere. She cocked her to the side and stared at the tree. Her mouth dropped open with awe. She moved towards it carefully and placed her hand on it, allowing her energy to flow into it.

  “Careful, I am not so old,” the tree said.

  She dropped her hand and twisted her toe in the ground. “You speak?”

  “We all speak.”

  “To whom?”

  “Each other.”

  Kaliel crouched in the grass and picked up her journal and slippers. “I apologize for my rudeness.” She went to press her hand against the bark in thanks, remembering the peculiar flowers that grew at the trees’ feet in Evennses, but she pulled her hand away, unsure if it would bloom the flower or the weed.

  “Please, there has been no intrusion,” the tree said.

  Kaliel placed her hand on its bark and shared her energy with it. Nothing special happened.

  “You carry doubt,” the tree said.

  She stopped, but left her hand on the bark. She nodded and bit her lip even though she knew the tree couldn’t see the gesture.

  “Relax.”

  She nodded again. She let her thoughts flow into the tree as she stared at the ground, expecting the little flower to sprout. Nothing happened.

  “Close your eyes.”

  She sighed and obeyed; her body swaying back and forth as she sent the energy again. Her fingers slid across the bark as she swept around the tree in anticipation. She circled the tree once and her foot crushed something below her. She opened her eyes and smiled at first, then frowned. A small purple flower had sprouted from the ground, but she had stepped on it. The flower wilted, its stem cracked and petals smushed. She let go of the bark and grazed along the underside of the flower bulb. Her fingers curled around it as she knelt on the ground and closed her eyes again.

  This time something happened. She felt the rush of energy cascading through her, growing stronger and stronger until—. When she opened her eyes it was as though she was holding the birthstone from the lake, the flower surrounded in violet light. The crack in the stem healed, and the flower bounded back to life. She fell away from the flower, exhausted by the process and elated by the peculiarity of it. She smiled as she looked at the branch-littered sky, nearing nightfall.

  I’ll show him when he returns, she thought as she drifted back to thoughts of Krishani.

  “Goodnight,” the tree said.

  Kaliel pushed herself up, some energy regained, and whispered, ‘Goodnight,’ running a hand along its bark as she passed. She headed barefoot towards the courtyard. The moment she reached the moat her stomach leapt into her chest. Shimma stood there, her blonde hair waving in the wind, arms crossed. She leaned over the edge of the bridge, gazing into the moat below. Kaliel grimaced as her eyes glanced across the road, spotting a thin trail leading to the waterfall. She contemplated it, but stopped in her tracks when Shimma turned her attention to her.

  “Talking to yourself?” Shimma assumed; her voice full of malice.

  Kaliel felt her pulse race as she stood straight and tried not to show fear. She hadn’t even told Krishani about how she used to talk to the trees in Evennses. There were some things about her childhood she wanted to leave behind her. “No,” she said slowly, drawing out the vowel.

  Shimma let out a snort and sauntered towards her. Kaliel backed away, tripping on her own feet and fought to keep her balance. “Stay away from me,” she said, trying not to fall over.

  Shimma scoffed. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

  “Then what do you want with me?”

  “Nothing,” Shimma said in a sing song voice as she turned and skipped back towards the moat. “I saw Krishani leave,” she added as she hopped onto the bridge again.

  Kaliel willed herself to move closer, to stifle her fear and pretend she wasn’t afraid, but it was hard. The witches avoided her because she was either with Atara or Krishani, and Istar was always stalking the castle, keeping an eye on them. Since her first night in Orlondir they hadn’t caused her any trouble. Sickness sloshed in her stomach as she worried about the unpredictability of Shimma. She stopped in her tracks and waited. Shimma said nothing, her body bent over the railing of the bridge, whispering incantations to the fishes. Moments went by in awkward silence before, finally, Shimma turned. “Do you ever wonder how it ends?”

  Kaliel rubbed her toe in the ground. “How what ends?”

  “Love,” Shimma said, her eyes blazing with both glee and mischief.

  Kaliel watched her, warning bells ringing in the back of her mind. She gritted her teeth and twisted her toe deeper into the mud. Shimma skipped towards her and stopped just a few feet away when Kaliel looked at
her with her own fiery stare.

  Shimma shot her a complacent look and laughed. “He will marry the land,” she said as she turned on her heel and disappeared behind the gates.

  Kaliel hung her head. She knew that, but she hoped that day would never come. She dragged herself across the moat and into the castle, willing herself to go to bed.

  • • •

  There was a girl screaming in the distance. Kaliel felt her stomach drop into her knees as she listened to it, like a succession of waves crashing over rocks. It was a constant pattern of silence then screaming, over and over. Kaliel waited in the lull of the silence and winced when another scream pierced the air. Everything around her was clad in awful blackness. She was too afraid of what she would see if she could see. She pawed around in the dark and found the wall next to her. She pressed her palm against it then her back, sliding down and hugging her knees to her chest, burying her face. The sounds reminded her of the witches.

  Maybe their screams were interrupting her dreams? Maybe they were sick of avoiding her? Maybe they were going to steal her from her bed and flay her alive?

  Kaliel curled into a tighter ball and tried to steady her breathing. There was nothing to be afraid of on Avristar. She tried to coach herself into calmness, but as another blood-curdling scream hit the air her insides shook and her stomach did flip-flops, threatening to heave its contents onto the floor.

  Nothing but a dream, she told herself as she waited for the nightmare to end. She remembered crawling into her bed; remembered blowing out the candle. She remembered thinking about Krishani before drifting off to sleep.

  “I’runya,” a voice whispered.

  This was different than the screams. The voice sounded strained and scratchy, as though it took all the effort in the lands to speak. Kaliel shuddered at the sound; it was as though the voice was addressing her, specifically.

  “I’runya,” the Flame, the voice whispered again.

  Kaliel glanced up as a loud scratch ripped along the wall against her back. Torchlight flickered into the catacombs and she instinctively knew she wasn’t dreaming of Avristar. There were tombs across from her, shadows dancing along the walls and sticky ooze underneath her. She trembled, squeezed her eyes shut, willing the images away, but when she opened them, nothing had changed. She glanced to the left and noticed a long corridor leading to what looked like metal bars.

  “I’runya,” the Flame, the voice whispered again. It was an exasperated voice, one that called out in desperation almost as if doing so was its last resort.

  Kaliel buried her face in her knees, too afraid to move towards the voice, but she was sure it was calling to her. She tried again to wake up, but it was no use. The nightmare held her prisoner. She sighed, knots still pulling her stomach tighter. There was a torch above her. She clawed against the wall, using it to brace her and pull herself up. She leaned against it, the fear forcing her to feel lightheaded and dizzy. She took the torch off the wall and carefully stepped towards the voice.

  “Who are you?” she whispered as she waved the torch in front of her. The catacombs smelled like death and she scrunched up her nose at the awful stench. She passed an archway. The cell had flat iron bars that created a crisscross pattern, leaving a myriad of tiny squares. She could only see part of what was on the other side, but it made her gasp and fall into the muck. She landed on her back and dropped the torch beside her. It extinguished, casting her into darkness again.

  “Vari’runya,” Protect the Flames.

  Kaliel sat stunned and paralyzed by what she saw. On the other side of the bars was a girl. She wore a beautiful mint green and purple dress, but her skin was covered in a reddish brown tinge, parasites eating away at her flesh. Her hair only covered her head in patches, her scalp showing the same sores as the rest of her. Shaking, Kaliel tried to stay focused on the words the girl was saying, but her mind was flying with the need for escape. She desperately needed to wake up.

  Fingers curled around her leg and she fell back into the ooze, her body shaking as pain shot through her like a dagger being dragged along her skin. This was much worse than what the witches would ever do to her, much worse than the tragedies she had heard of in the Lands of Men. The pain was so real she bit her lip to stifle her own screams.

  One escaped her lips and then another and another. She felt a shift in her energy as it rushed out of her, her aura shining a bright violet. The hand clamped to her leg like a shackle as the girl sidled up against the bars, her bright blue eyes staring back into Kaliel’s violet enflamed ones.

  “Vari’runya,” the girl said again, her eyes piercing Kaliel’s with a message that conveyed one thing—danger.

  Kaliel panted and whimpered, silently begging to be free of the girl, the dream, the pain that coursed through her like fire. She pushed herself onto her elbows and watched the girl’s body flop like a fish behind the bars. Her senses snapped to the staggering realization the girl was dying.

  Kaliel clawed at herself, wanting to tear herself in half. After everything she had endured, this pain was ten times worse. She wanted to go back to when life was simple, when all she had to worry about was the creature at the bottom of the lake. The fingers gripped tighter, forcing her to lose her senses. There was nothing else in her mind but the pain, and how to rid herself of that pain. She kicked wildly, trying to shake off the hand. The pain intensified with each passing minute, leaving her helpless on the clammy dungeon floor. Eventually, she stopped fighting and shifted so she stared into the eyes of the girl.

  “Vari’runya,” Protect the Flames, the girl whispered. Her mouth didn’t move, her vocal chords probably damaged by the parasites.

  Kaliel nodded, trying to agree with whatever the girl wanted and begged for it to be over. “Why?” she forced out as her head spun with dizziness. She looked at the girl in earnest, hoping it would be over soon, but the girl seemed utterly deranged.

  “Ro tulten lye,” He comes for us. The girl’s blue eyes darkened with fear as she released her grip on Kaliel’s ankle.

  The pain receded almost instantly and Kaliel shot up, coughing and pressing her chest. She choked as consciousness hit her and found herself sitting in her bed in the Elmare castle, crickets creaking outside her window, the sliver of the moon casting a faint light across her room. She breathed a sigh of relief and moved out from under the covers. Her hands slid down her legs until they rested on her ankle. Reddish bruises in the shape of a hand stained her leg. She poked at it and winced. It hurt like a deep burn.

  Everything hurt.

  Her muscles felt as heavy as lead, and her head swirled with dizziness. She pushed herself to the edge of the bed and slid on her slippers. As she stood, her knees knocked together. Her mind was still putting together the pieces of the dream, but the last words the dying girl said ran through her mind over and over. She shuddered as she pulled a shawl over her shoulders and opened the door. She leaned against the doorframe, her body weak. She forced herself down the hallway, wanting to reach the waterfall before day broke over the horizon. If there was anything that would make the pain fade it was the water.

  She reached the end of the corridor with so much effort it was exhausting. She pulled herself towards the courtyard, and stumbled over her own feet, splaying out face first in the middle of the hallway, her cheek pressed against the soft crimson carpet. She closed her eyes for only a moment and felt herself sucked into oblivion.

  She was tumbling down a hill, rolling over herself, hitting rocks jutting out of the land at awkward angles. She tried to find her balance, but the more she moved the worse it became. There was a thud and everything stopped. She rolled over and opened her eyes. Gray and white clouds gathered above her, an unmistakable sense of melancholy on the air. She tried to sit up, but everything hurt too much.

  Kaliel glanced to her left and the boots of a shadowy figure approached her. He lifted her into his arms and began carrying her across the land. She couldn’t see anything but the darkened hood of his cloak c
oncealing his face, and the sky just beyond. She tensed in his cold arms, wondering where he was taking her. She wanted to scream, but when she tried, no sound escaped her lips. Her throat felt like it had been burned. She closed her eyes and listened to the steady beats of his footsteps. He stopped moments later and she saw an archway. A woman in white approached, shouting at them. She had a dagger poised high above her head. Kaliel felt too weak to fight, numbness weighing down her extremities which, gradually, encompassed most of her body.

  There was commotion, and the feeling of flying, and then there were warmer arms surrounding her. A cold blade pressed against her cheek, ice blue eyes found hers, whispers of a foreign language, and then nothing. The sting of nothingness was the worst, darkness filling her body with prickling sand and turning her senses to mush.

  She tried to move, but there was no feeling in her bones. She waited, paralyzed in the hall until her body jolted several times. Kaliel coughed as life rushed into her and stinging pain encompassed her. Her heart beat irregularly—one, one two, one and one. She instinctively curled into a ball as rushing waves of fire and ice washed over her, covering her in tremors of pain that pressed into her, making it impossible to stay awake.

  She slid into the nothingness as her mind tried to comprehend what had happened. The girl was dead, and someone—or something, was coming for her.

  * * *

  19-The Emerald Flame

  Krishani hovered beside the white horse as its hooves scratched the gravel-studded ground. It followed the solemn processional through the wide forest path leading towards a cemetery. Krishani watched intently from his position. The man perched on the white horse had a blank expression on his face and trailed along behind the processional, giving quite enough distance that he looked associated, but might not be at all.

  The people in black carrying the box trudged down a hill. The bare trees and evergreens parted on either side to give way to a large wrought iron gate. On the other side of the gate were tombstones. As they walked, the gate opened with an eerie creak. It was like the graveyard was expecting them.