SURRENDER (The Ferryman + The Flame)

by Rhiannon Paille

  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. She shook her head in disbelief as reality crashed down around 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.

  Desaunius waited for Kaliel in the morning. She wouldn’t allow her to walk through the forests unaccompanied any longer.

  They made good progress on the way to the cottage, both of them remaining silent while they walked. Kaliel hadn’t said a word on the way back to the House of Kin the night before, and she was ready by the time her elder had arrived to pick her up.

  “There is no lesson this morning,” Desaunius said. Kaliel hung her head. They entered the cottage and Desaunius led her into the common room, two cups of tea already waiting for them on the small wooden table. Kaliel sat and looked at the floor.

  Desaunius sighed as she inspected the girl. She looked too proper—her dress unwrinkled, her hair combed at its sides, and her face clean. “You have been summoned by Lady Atara of Orlondir. She wants you as her apprentice.”

  Kaliel turned green. “Is that because of my trespassing?”

  Desaunius frowned. She didn’t want to talk about the merfolk. Why Kaliel risked her life was beyond her. “Nay, it is due to the Great Oak.” Her voice was low.

  Kaliel seemed scared as she took a sip of tea. Desaunius figured she was trying to avoid another outburst, drifting in and out of the conversation. She couldn’t blame the girl for barely listening.

  “How long until I must...?” Kaliel choked on the word “Go.”

  Desaunius looked at the girl with compassion. “We have until Beltane to prepare you.” She reached for the tea and took a sip. No matter what Kaliel had done in the past, she was still saddened by this turn of events.

  “That isn’t long at all.” Kaliel seemed distant; she looked at the solid wooden slab of the tabletop. She put her tea on the table and twisted her hands in her lap. Desaunius followed, turning towards the circular window behind her. Strips of sunlight dimly lit the room, casting Kaliel in shadows.

  “I will still see you at the Fire Festivals,” Desaunius said.

  “Twice a year,” Kaliel mumbled.

  Desaunius let out an exasperated sigh. “This shouldn’t be this hard,” she began but wasn’t sure who she was talking about—herself or Kaliel? It was hard to let such a fragile girl go to Orlondir to train with an elder like Atara. She feared what would happen to Kaliel. The girl had become like a daughter to her.

  “But it is,” Kaliel said, her voice choked.

  Desaunius resisted the urge to pull her into her arms and instead smoothed out her royal blue dress. “What have you learned about the parable?”

  Kaliel made a noise that was somewhere between a burp and a hiccup. She glanced at the floor and shifted her weight on the log. “I don’t know why me.”

  “Why you?”

  “Why would it tell me that?”

  Desaunius shook her head. “I don’t understand what you mean. The parable is yours; I cannot tell you what it means. That is for you to discover.”

  Kaliel let out a frustrated breath and dropped her hands at her side. She pushed a lock of snow-white hair out of her face and let her green eyes fall on Desaunius. “It scares everyone, including me. Why would the Great Oak do that?”

  She tore her eyes away from her apprentice and glanced at the floor. “Do you remember the stories about Avred?”

  Kaliel pulled her eyebrows together and shook her head. “Who is Avred?”

  Desaunius kept her eyes on the floor, shuffling her slippers back and forth against the dirt. “He was—is—the male spirit of the land. When Avristar was under attack by the Valtanyana, he became the difference between salvation and destruction.”

  Kaliel went rigid. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because some of us have a great purpose in life, Kaliel, and whether you choose to see it or not, the Great Oak was only telling you the truth.” She opened her mouth to continue, but closed it and shook her head. “I cannot tell you more. You know how it used to be.”

  “The Valtanyana ruined everything,” she whispered.

  “Yes, they did. They began in Avristyr and its sister realms and spread to Avrigard, and eventually to Avristar and its seven Lands of Men. There was no stopping their unnatural destruction.”

  “But Avristar won. They beat the Valtanyana,” Kaliel said, her eyes shining with a false sense of pride.

  Desaunius nodded. She had told stories of the First Era to every apprentice she had counseled since those tarnished times. Many of them had gone to the Lands of Men, others had stayed in Avristar, escaping to Nandaro in the north and living with the secluded tribes. She wanted a simple life for Kaliel because there was something about her that made Desaunius feel overprotective. Kaliel wasn’t like the other apprentices. Sometimes she was too na�ve and other times too curious for her own good. She was as delicate as the bed of flowers they had found her nestled in. She eyed the girl’s appearance, a thick red bruise on her left shin just under her knee cap. Kaliel was obviously trying to conceal it by crossing that leg behind the other one, but part of it still peeked out.

  “Avristar needed Avred to win that war. She also needed High King Tor. He trapped them in Avrigost,” Desaunius said.

  “The place nobody speaks of,” Kaliel said, her eyes meeting with her elder’s.

  “Yes, because that is an ugly fate. Nobody ever comes back from Avrigost. It is a wasteland.”

  “You told me the Lands of Men were a wasteland,” Kaliel pointed out, with an uncomfortable expression on her face.

  Desaunius softened. “The Lands of Men aren’t like Avrigost. The Lands of Men are simply in need of our help. After what the Valtanyana brought ...” She looked troubled. “The kinfolk of Avristar have been charged with the task of restoring the Lands of Men to their former glory.”

  “You mean bring peace to them?”

  “Yes, I’ve told you this many times, Kaliel. You don’t have anything to be afraid of. You won’t go there until you reach the age of maturity and marry the land.”

  Kaliel quickly grabbed her tea and took a long sip, followed by a deep breath. She seemed put off by the entire conversation, but was handling herself rather well. Desaunius noticed her knee was shaking, and her fingers trembled against the cup. At least the girl hadn’t run off to the lake again. It was a start.

  “How did you end up in Avristar?” Kaliel asked. She put the cup on the wooden slab and wrung her hands out along her sides, pressing them under her thighs to avoid the trembling.

  Desaunius shook her head. “Maybe I will tell you another time.”

  “We don’t have that much time.”

  Desaunius let out a haughty laugh and glared at her. “I escaped from the Valtanyana and came here for refuge. I hid in the rainforests of Nandaro in the Village of the Shee until the war was over. Then I came to Orlondir and asked Lady Atara if I could stay.”

  “What about your other life?” Kaliel asked. It was a bold move.

  Desaunius sucked in a breath; the glare didn’t leave her face. “Tor ...he was mine until the Valtanyana came for him. They wanted him to join them.”

  Kaliel’s eyes
widened. Desaunius never told her that before. “He was what?”

  “My betrothed.”

  Kaliel gulped. “You mean the land let you be together?”

  Desaunius let out a sigh. “It wasn’t like that on Tempia. Traditions were different.”

  “Did you love him?”

  “And what do you know of love Kaliel?”

  “Nothing ...I just ...I wanted to know why you couldn’t be with him anymore.”

  Desaunius bit her lip and stared out the window. She didn’t want to explain this to Kaliel. Elvens on Avristar married the land and went to the Lands of Men to do their duty. They weren’t like the feorns, the fae, the shee, or the centaurs, frivolously falling in love and settling down in the villages throughout Orlondir and Nandaro. Love wasn’t something Kaliel would ever know. It seemed so awkward for her to want to know anything about it. She glanced at her apprentice. “High King Tor lives in the Great Hall and keeps the peace between all the realms. I stay in Avristar and train apprentices that will do the same.” She pursed her lips. “Chores. You need to be off to do yours.” Desaunius stood and led Kaliel to the door. The girl stepped into the hallway and turned. Her green eyes seemed dull, even sad.

  “Do you think you’ll ever see him again?” she asked.

  Desaunius looked stricken; she flinched and narrowed her eyes. “That’s quite enough, Kaliel. We are finished for today.”

  Kaliel gulped and pulled the door open. She darted through the garden without another word and raced across the path away from the hollow mound. Desaunius watched her go, knowing she had made the girl upset. She sank onto the log and stared out the window. She did miss him, but there were more important things in the lands than love.

  Nightfall came. Kaliel shot up in her cot, pressing her hands to her chest. She tried to catch her breath as the nightmare drained away. Instinctively, she pushed the blankets aside and stood up. Her head swirled with dizziness and she fell back onto the bed. She closed her eyes, indigo flames dancing behind them. She didn’t know what to think of the Flames, but ever since she had gone to the Great Oak she had dreamed of them. She pushed away the images and sat up again, her eyes scanning the room. She rolled over and pulled out her birthstone from the nightstand. It was something she had been given in Orlondir. Hers was shaped like an egg with a milky white translucency. She held it in her hands and closed her eyes again.

  The lake, she thought of the lake. The pounding subsided, and she relaxed. She opened her eyes and looked at the ceiling.

  She tried to stand and everything seemed normal. She padded down the hallway and reached the stairs. She glanced over the railing into the common room and saw Luenelle sitting on the rocking chair, knitting a beige quilt.

  “Kaliel?” Luenelle asked as the girl turned away from the rails.

  She hung her head and trudged down the steps, running her hands along her nightgown. She reached the last stair and gave Luenelle a crooked smile. “I can’t sleep,” she said.

  Luenelle sighed. “Would you like to sit with me? I still have a fire going.”

  Kaliel felt a shock hit her chest at the thought of the fire. She shook her head and backed onto the second step. “No.”

  Luenelle put the knitting needles in her lap and narrowed her eyes. “You won’t go to the lake again.”

  “I know,” she whispered, moving to the next stair.

  “Morning will come sooner than you think,” Luenelle said gently.

  Kaliel nodded, hiding the fear that was circling her senses. It was only a dream; the girl with the indigo eyes, the flames, it was her imagination. Still, she had no desire to watch the hearth fire. She eased up the winding staircase and found her room. She pushed her face into the pillow and tried to convince herself it wasn’t real.

  Kaliel darted inside the House of Kin after her lesson. Moons had passed since the call to Orlondir, and the time to leave drew near. She dragged her feet up the stairs to her room and glanced at the bags that had been there for days. She sighed and sat down on the bed, picking up one of the bags. There wasn’t much for her to take: the dresses in the drawers, her hair brush and ribbons for tying it back, her slippers and undergarments, her journal, and the birthstone. It was sitting in the middle of her dresser in a small box Luenelle had lent to her. She went over to the dresser, taking the stone in her hands. She turned it back and forth, staring at its milky white translucency.

  Someone passed by her room without stopping. Kaliel blinked and put the stone on the bed. She smiled, hoping it wasn’t Luenelle checking on her progress with packing. She opened one of the drawers and took out a stack of dresses and placed them in the bag. Silence ensued, and she realized that nobody was interested in speaking with her. She closed the door for security and turned back to the bed. Picking up the stone, she closed her eyes and tried to invoke its energy.

  Please, she thought.

  She hadn’t thanked the merfolk for saving her, and wasn’t sure how they would react if she tried to visit them again. She shuddered at the thought of the beast that had kept her prisoner to their depths. Desaunius might not have been right about the merfolk, but there was something to fear in the waters.

  Kaliel sighed as she held the birthstone. She felt the currents of the lake swishing back and forth over the crystal as it remained embedded in the soil. Luenelle said that was where the birthstones formed, at the bottom of the lake. It felt as though she was surrounded by the sounds of the lake as the currents pushed and pulled at her. She dared a peek at the room around her, afraid that she had transported herself there.

  A rush of violet-colored light struck her. She gasped and dropped the stone on the bed. The violet light faded as she gawked at it. Underneath the milky white cover it shone a faint violet hue. She took a deep breath and as she exhaled the violet intensified, encompassing the aura of the stone. Her jaw fell open as she passed the stone from hand to hand, staring at it in wonder.

  There was a knock on the door, and she dropped the stone by accident. She rescued it and placed it in the box.

  “Kaliel?” It was Pux.

  She sighed, anxiety building. Pux had been upset when she told him she was leaving. He hadn’t spoken to her in weeks. She cautiously opened the door and he came flooding into the room.

  “I came to say—I mean—you didn’t think I was going to ...” He paced the floor in circles, then stopped and hugged her sheepishly. “I’ll miss you,” he said as he exited the room.

  Kaliel fell back against the dresser. “I’ll miss you, too.” She shook her head and sunk to the floor and began to fill the bag with more clothing.

  The moon rose high in the sky as the fires of the Beltane celebration died down. Kaliel lay awake in her bed in the middle of the night. She hadn’t paid much attention to the festival this year because there was too much on her mind. Desaunius came at sunset, along with the rest of the elders from the forest, nineteen of them in total. Food was served and music was played and blessings were given. Kaliel watched the others enjoy the celebration; there was nothing for her to celebrate.

  Back to the present, she rolled onto her side and closed her eyes hoping sleep would come. It had been a dreary day and all she longed for was its end. She turned onto her other side and hugged her pillow tighter, then she rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling.

  One last time, she thought as she threw off the blanket and pulled on her slippers. She padded down the hallway to the staircase. Luenelle was passed out in the rocking chair across from the hearth fire. Kaliel thanked the stars for her last endeavor to see the merfolk. She slipped out the front door, past the porch and broke into a run through the meadow. Her heart soared with passion and exhilaration as she hit the break in the trees and began winding down the path towards the lake. This time she didn’t trip. When she ran her hands along the trees they whispered to her in a voice she missed hearing. She smiled. It was gibberish, they were speaking all at once, and she had no time to sit and listen to them. Still, it was wonderful
to hear. The path narrowed. She pawed around in the dark, looking for the dead end and then her hand touched the bark, and she let it sink into the tree.

  “I have returned,” she whispered with a smile. She slunk to the ground and sat against the tree.

  “I cannot allow it,” the tree boomed.

  Her heart dropped. “You won’t let me pass?”

  “Nay, you may not pass.”

  She thought for a moment, the comfort and freedom dissipating. “Why?”

  “They have forbidden it.”

  “Who?”

  “The elders of the merfolk.”

  Kaliel gasped. Suddenly she realized how much her treachery had cost her. They didn’t follow the laws of Avristar; it wasn’t their place to save her life. “Will they be reasonable?”

  “They will withdraw.”

  Kaliel nodded. She understood. They would leave the shores of Avristar and find a new home. There was no point in facing them; their elders would force her to suffer the consequences of her wrongdoing. There was no way to fix it. She pressed her hand to the tree in apology and hoped for a flower to sprout at the base of it. When her hand brushed across the grass in front of the tree she felt the prickly sting of a leaf. She gasped.

  Bloom the weed of temptation.

  Pang of guilt hit her as she stumbled away from the dead end and headed towards the House of Kin.

  The ride to Orlondir was dreary and slow. As they passed the wide path between the trees, Kaliel heard their whispers of goodbye, and it broke her heart to think she might never return.

  Long silences ensued and once Evennses was a memory behind them, Kaliel inched up to the front of the carriage and poked her head through the canvas.

  “Do you know what the lady thinks of my parable?” she asked. Some conversation was better than the bitter silence. Apprehension of meeting the Lady of the Land pressed on her temples.

  “I cannot tell you, Kaliel,” Desaunius replied as she kept her gaze ahead on the path.