She was asleep.
Melianna perched on a stool near the bureau, sleepily watching Kaliel and reading a book. She jumped when she saw Krishani and dropped the book on the floor. She almost knocked the candle over as she swayed on the stool then, seeming perturbed, put a finger to her lips and shushed him even though he hadn’t said anything. She shot a glance over at Kaliel, who stirred.
Krishani realized he was soaking wet and with Melianna’s disapproving gaze he removed his cloak and boots. He looked at her for some help, but she simply pointed to an empty place along the wall where he could pile his things. The rest of his clothing clung to his frame, making movement awkward with certain motions. He shot her another glance, apologetic, pleading. He wanted to know what happened, but he also wanted her to let him be alone with Kaliel. He feared that with the grandeur of his entrance, his relationship with the girl had been revealed. The two decided it was better if the elders were unaware of their meetings at the waterfall as it was forbidden.
He tried not to glower at Melianna as he viewed Kaliel from a distance, afraid to take another step forward. He would have preferred to take off all his clothes and slide under the covers next to her, but that would have been inappropriate.
“Why did you come?” Still glaring at him, Melianna whispered loud enough for him to hear. She bent over and picked up the book and placed it on the bureau next to her. She stood and walked towards him, stopping at the foot of the bed. Crossing her arms, she gave him an expression that told him to leave and she wouldn’t tell Istar.
Krishani stood his ground, his concern for Kaliel strong enough that his heart wanted to explode from his chest. Melianna was merely an obstacle between a bull and a red cape; nothing could stop him from waking her.
“She needed me,” he said. He inwardly cringed after he spoke. No matter how he worded it, his feelings for her were written all over his face.
“She needs rest. Have you any idea what she’s been through?”
So it was that bad. His expression softened, losing all of its determination. He only wanted to see her well. He let his fists relax and ran his fingers through his hair. “I—” he began. “I’ve been away.”
Melianna uncrossed her arms and stepped away from the bed. “She’s been like this for almost a day. She awoke yesterday morning when Atara came to check on her. Whatever was said, she hasn’t woken since.”
Krishani ached with concern. He’d been following the Ferryman in a dream when it happened, and he heard no call until mere hours ago when he was slumbering under the Great Oak. The parable hadn’t changed. He tried to push that out of his mind as Kaliel stirred. She mumbled something, and without regard to Melianna he stepped forward and crouched at the side of the bed. He noticed the water bowl on the end table, the strong smell of herbs rising from it.
He looked at Kaliel’s face, eyes—pressed up against her eyelids—darted back and forth. She seemed to tremble underneath the blankets. Hair was stuck to her forehead, a result of the water that had been patted across her brow more than a few times. Arms were drawn up to her chest, hands clasped together, resting against her heart. He heard her heartbeat from the distance between them, and he wanted so badly to wrap his arms around her and cradle her.
She took a shaky breath and her eyelids fluttered. Krishani slid his hand between the two that were clasped and implored her with his eyes to wake up. He scanned the surface of her skin and hoped wherever she was, she could find her way back to him. He squeezed tighter and it seemed as though Melianna had stepped into the hall.
“Krishani,” Kaliel murmured. Her eyes slowly opened.
He smiled and shifted his weight. “I’m here.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. He tasted the herbal concoction on his lips as he pulled away. Relief washed over him as he met her green eyes. They looked tired and worn, as though she had fought a war and barely survived.
She relaxed, unlocked her hands and tried to get comfortable, but didn’t appear to find a position she liked. He wanted to help her more, smooth out the knots in her muscles the way she had done for him. She gulped and pushed herself up. Krishani came closer and sat on the bed next to her.
He wanted to wipe her brow again, she looked so wasted. Before he could do anything, she bowed her head and began sobbing. He inched closer and pulled her into his embrace. Despite the dampness of his shirt she melted into him.
“The Emerald Flame is dead,” she whispered in his ear.
His eyes widened as he realized why she had called for him. He pulled back and placed his hands on her shoulders and forced her to look him in the eyes.
“You dreamt of death?” he asked.
She only nodded.
He thought he was the only one to carry that burden.
“I felt every part of her pain,” she said sobbing again as she pushed back into his arms.
He hugged her tight, but he was afraid. Her experience seemed ten times more extreme and powerful than his. He always watched others die. He never felt it himself, though he could feel the souls rising out of the bodies, and he could tell when death was close at hand. He rubbed her back.
“Nothing can hurt you now,” he said.
“Vari’Runya. Ro tulten lye,” she whispered adamantly.
Krishani recognized the words. They might have been slightly different than the language he was used to, but they meant almost the same thing.
He shuddered, but more than that he was confused. He hadn’t told her everything about the frequent dreams of The Ferryman, and she had never spoken of the Flames before. The fact the foe could be hunting them made him quiver.
Is that why I’m not ready? he thought as he contemplated the last vision he had. A fresh batch of tears spilled onto his shirt, warm, unlike the rest of his garments which had grown crisp and cold. He turned his attention back to Kaliel. “Why do you have to protect them?”
Kaliel shook as she took a deep breath. She was so fragile. He let go and she eased into the bed. She couldn’t make eye contact with him, her stomach heaving in fits of apparent pain as she looked at the end table, worried and afraid.
“I’m the Amethyst Flame,” she said.
And he comes for you, Krishani thought as the room spun around him. It had made sense from the beginning—the amethyst eyes, the aura—it was as though it was always there and yet, he wished it wasn’t true.
“Why did you not come to me?” Istar stood in the hallway, his voice almost a whisper as he stared at Atara, his lady. She held a pitcher of fresh tea as she came from the kitchen, in the hopes that Kaliel was awake.
She squared her shoulders when she saw him and raised her head to meet his gaze. “She is my apprentice, and none of your concern.” She took a bold step forward, like she wanted to dart past him, but his eyes only grew colder. He took a long stride towards her and gripped her elbow.
“She’s a Flame!” he hissed. She knew he was more concerned than angry, and that he could read her well. She feared he knew what she was planning to do—let the death go unnoticed, allow Kaliel to forget about Lotesse and the dream that almost killed her.
Atara tried to shrug out of his grasp, but her eyes hit the floor at the harshness of his words. “She should not have to carry the burden.”
“She has no choice!”
Atara glared at him, curious. Istar glared back, and she knew he was doing his utmost to shield himself from being read by her. “Whatever do you mean?” She hung on each word as it passed her lips.
Istar let her go and paced down the hallway towards Kaliel’s door. “This is worse than you can imagine, Atara. The Valtanyana have returned!”
The clay pitcher slipped out of her hands and crashed to the floor. Body rigid, she barely noticed the shards and her soaked shoes. Her face flushed with heat as she forced away the painful memories of the past.
She thought, if Kaliel remained innocent, even with the death of Lotesse, she could guide her down the right path, awaken the Flame in time.
“
What?” she said, afraid of the answer.
“Crestaos.”
Atara noticed the clay pieces below her and the need to do something made her bend down and pick them up off the floor. “He’s trapped in Avrigost.” She said it to comfort herself, but it was futile.
Istar continued pacing and put a hand to his forehead as if to smooth out the crease that had formed. He moved back towards the main hall, passing Atara. “Aye, however, the death of Lotesse ...”
Atara stood and turned to him. She gulped. “Nay, I cannot bear his wrath again.” She tried to force away the tremors rumbling in her bones but memories of the First Era struck her. There was no running from the Valtanyana, they took what they wanted and destroyed what they couldn’t take. Avristar had barely made it. She gained control of herself and took a step backwards. Istar gave her a hard stare.
He pounded his fist against the wall. “We must awaken her!”
Atara was sick to her stomach as she fought to gain control of herself. “She’s not ready!”
“A Flame is dead!”
Cold wrapped around her body as the harshness of his words struck her. A tear slid down her face as flashes of the past danced in her mind’s eye. Istar neared her and pulled her into his embrace. She knew he felt it too, everything she felt and thought, a dull hum in the back of his mind and present in his heart.
“The Kiirar will be able to help. Kaliel must focus,” Istar said as he rubbed her back.
“Are you certain she will be safe?”
“Avristar is hidden. If the Flames are what he seeks, it is unlikely he will search here.”
“Then we will do what we can to help her,” Atara said, though her thoughts circled around something much worse, something she knew her husband didn’t want to think about.
Hooves pounded the ground, but Kaliel was surrounded by pitch black. She curiously followed the rhythm of the pounding, hearing ever so often the shouts of voices, speaking in a language she couldn’t understand. Something orange glowed in front of her, small at first before growing into an orb. Kaliel shielded her eyes from its brightness.
“Tiki,” a gruff voice called.
An outline of a hand shadowed the brightness. Kaliel watched as it drew the orb out of the small satchel they were being held in. She felt disoriented but content; Tiki wasn’t afraid. Who is Tiki? she wondered as she shrunk into the depths of the cloth that surrounded her.
The horses stopped. The satchel dropped to the ground and Kaliel stepped out onto wooden planks that created a porch. She was the same size as the little orb. Everything was black and white except for the orange glow of the orb. Kaliel looked up at the tall man standing on the porch with the orb in the palm of his hand. He took out a small boxy chamber and coaxed her into it. Tiki shone from inside, showering the porch in orange light.
Kaliel looked around. Beyond the porch, they were surrounded by a row of mountains, stretches of lush black grasses and flowers. She turned her attention back to the glowing, orange orb.
“Who are you?” Kaliel asked.
“Tiki, The Carnelian Flame.”
“Why are you here?”
“I was taken by him.”
Kaliel felt nauseous as the mountains began to swirl around her. The flowers incoherently whispered to her as she tried to understand the gravity of the situation. More than anything she wanted to be in her room in Avristar.
“You will die,” she whispered to Tiki before she felt pulled through a vortex into nowhere. The fresh scent of herbs wafted through the air as her eyes fluttered open.
“Tiki,” she mumbled as she viewed the hazy room around her. Lavender; that’s what it was. The room was covered in a heavy cloud of lavender. It smelled like home. She pushed her hands into the bed and tried to sit up.
“I wouldn’t advise that yet,” Atara said. She stood at the bureau viewing Kaliel through the mirror. She had an incense stick in hand and she blew on it lightly, spreading smoke into the room. When she turned to face Kaliel it was no secret she had something important to say.
Kaliel slumped back into the pillows, but looked at the window and the sunlight shining through it. “How many days have passed?”
“Three,” Atara answered gently. She crossed the room and Kaliel felt the woman’s eyes raking over her features.
She still felt very weak. “So many days lost, I must go back to my studies, I must—” She met Atara’s gaze, and as if she wasn’t white enough already, the woman became whiter. Atara was expressionless, compassionless, nothing sunny and happy or gentle and caring about her. Kaliel understood without the need for her to explain. “I can’t return to my studies,” she said flatly. The fits that had attacked her stomach earlier threatened to begin again. She fought against them.
Atara stood, looking at the door. “Nay, you must go to the Kiirar.”
Kaliel’s eyes widened. Being sent away again? First Orlondir and now where? She knew The Kiirar were in Nandaro, not in Evennses. She would have liked to go back there to play with Pux in the forests. Her thoughts drifted to Krishani, and all her time spent with him. “What about—” she began, though she knew she could never finish that sentence with what she was thinking. Krishani? Her mouth slightly opened, hoping for some words of comfort.
Atara turned, her arms crossed. “What about ...?” She raised her eyebrows. “You will return in three moons. It won’t take long.”
Kaliel’s head hurt. She thought back to the dream, to Tiki, to the man that had taken her. It didn’t feel the same as Lotesse. It was softer; he was gruff but she didn’t feel pure corruption out of him. She looked at the window, ignoring Atara’s comment. She couldn’t bear to be away from Krishani, but if the Kiirar could show her how to control her link to the Flames, then perhaps leaving wouldn’t prove so bad.
“I won’t be of much help even if you stayed. I have business to attend to regarding my adepts in the Lands of Men.” Atara paced back and forth in front of the bed. She looked like she was afraid of something—war, tarnished lands, and the enemy that had killed Lotesse, maybe.
Kaliel knew what this could mean, but she didn’t want to say it. Upset, she pulled the blankets off her. The rejection in Atara’s voice was strong, and she had never felt like such a failure until that moment, when in a matter of seconds, the rest of her elder’s life became more important than her. She threw her legs over the side of the bed and looked at Atara carefully before setting her feet on the floor.
“So the wretched Oak tells me sacrifice and I’m sent to you,” Kaliel said. “So the Emerald Flame tells me protection, and you send me to the Kiirar.” She stared at the embroidered rug on the floor and a tear splashed onto her foot. “All I want is to be normal.”
Atara backed away towards the door. The expression on her face was mangled, as though she had figured it all out and wasn’t willing to talk about it. Kaliel looked at her and realized what Atara wasn’t saying. Kaliel was a Flame. She couldn’t be normal even if she wanted to be. She never was normal to begin with. And her kind were being hunted, something she couldn’t just ignore.
Atara reached for the door knob, her back turned towards Kaliel. “Please do not see this as exile.” She pulled the door open and retreated into the corridor.
Krishani aimlessly wandered through the corridors. He was looking for Istar; something told him that his elder knew more than he let on and he was to confront him about Kaliel. He turned the corner in the upper east wing and spotted the three witches pacing towards him. He groaned and tried to duck back the way he came, but Kuruny met his eyes, there was no backing out. He stopped in his tracks as they approached and leaned against the balcony for air.
“You look horrible, Krishani,” Shimma said as she sauntered along, hugging the rail of the balcony. She playfully twisted back and forth in the hopes of attracting his attention. Her blonde hair fell in waves over the railing and she tossed it over her shoulder and met his gaze.
Krishani stared at the chandelier and the empty floor bel
ow, the energy from the women making him feel nauseous. “Doesn’t concern you, Shimma.”
Kuruny stuck out her pouty lip and shot him a devious smiled. “Don’t patronize him. Kaliel is sick.” She had a singsong tone to her voice as though she enjoyed digging the knife in his gut deeper.
He curled his hand into a fist at the mention of Kaliel. She had promised to stay away from them, she had kept her promise, but Kuruny and her sisters were deceitful. “You know nothing,” he spat. He turned around and made eye contact with Kuruny. Her eyes were shiny black orbs glistening against her pale skin and long black hair.
Kuruny stepped back. She looked like she was about to give up as Shimma and Kazza moved away from him, but as she turned she said, “All I want is this.” The words wafted through the air like an insult, but what it really meant was his feelings for Kaliel were no secret. Kuruny looked at the ceiling. “Istar is in the stables. He’s sending Kaliel somewhere.” She turned the corner after her sisters.
Krishani followed her back the way he came. “What? Where? When did you hear this?”
She continued walking, not bothering to turn around. “Go ask him yourself,” she said coldly.
Krishani stumbled away. Send her away? he wondered as he raced to the servants’ quarters. He clambered down the stairwell and paused when he reached the hallway. He took a few strides towards the archway that led to the stables. As Kuruny had said, Istar was standing in one of the stalls, fastening a saddle to his horse, Paladin. He paused and looked at Krishani, surprise crossing his wrinkled face.
“Our lesson isn’t until tomorrow,” he called, and Krishani recognized the attempt to make him leave.
Krishani crossed the distance between them and stopped at the opening to the stall. He tried to control his emotions, but he couldn’t understand why Istar would interfere with Kaliel. “I wasn’t aware you were leaving.”
Istar studied his expression. “I’m not going far. I must speak with The Kiirar.”
“Whom?” Krishani asked, feigning interest. There were dozens of Kiirar in Nandaro, �Kiirar’ being the official term for a �lorekeeper.’ His thoughts caved in around him, threatening to be set loose. He wanted to ask about Kaliel. He casually draped his arm over the railing and looked Istar directly in the eye.
SURRENDER (The Ferryman + The Flame) Page 19
