by A. G. Henley
THE DEFIANCE
Brilliant Darkness, Book 2
By
A.G. HENLEY
Table of Contents
DEDICATION
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Suspicion Trust. Fear Compassion. Hate Love.
It hasn’t been long since Fennel, a Sightless Groundling, and Peree, her Lofty Keeper, fell in love and learned the truth: the Scourge, and their world, are not what they seem.
Fenn and Peree are determined to guide their people to the protected village of Koolkuna, but first they must convince them that everything they believe is a lie. An impossible task, especially when someone seems hell-bent on trying anything—even animal sacrifice and arson—to destroy the couple’s new bond and crush the frail truce between the Groundlings and the Lofties. Not everyone wants to uproot their lives in the forest, and those who stay behind will be left terribly vulnerable.
Fenn and Peree’s resolve to be together, and the constant threat of the Scourge’s return, push both groups to the breaking point. Unable to tell friend from foe, Fenn must again decide how much she’s willing to sacrifice to ensure the future of the people of the forest.
Only this time, the price of peace may be too high to bear.
Copyright © 2013 by A.G. Henley
All rights reserved
Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc.
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DEDICATION
For Arden and Liam, with love.
CHAPTER ONE
In the place where a tree meets the earth, roots grow. They twist and twine together through the ground, stabilizing the tree. The soil provides nutrients the tree needs to survive. In return, the tree shelters the land around it, protecting the earth from the erosive power of winds and water. When the tree dies, it sustains the earth and allows it to bring forth new life.
They work together. Cooperate. That's what our teacher, Bream, taught us. It's a beautiful thought.
My people, the Groundlings, live on the earth. Peree's people, the Lofties, live in the trees above us. We have common roots. What we can't seem to find is a way to shelter and sustain each other.
I decided to come home after finding the protected village of Koolkuna, hoping I’d find a way to persuade our people to cooperate for long enough to get them safely back there. I wanted to believe when they experienced that kind of peace, and they were free of the delusions about the Scourge caused by our war-poisoned water and soil, they would let our violent past die a quiet death. Like Peree and I have.
The Reckoning proved it wouldn’t be so easy. Many people on both sides died when our people clashed, including my foster mother, Aloe, and Peree’s foster father, Shrike.
I allowed myself to hope again when the Confluence formed to work together to solve our problems. But it’s been a week, and they haven’t even persuaded our people to shake hands, much less make any progress on the issue of leaving for Koolkuna. The Confluence hasn’t gone well. Not at all.
The Lofties refused to leave their homes unprotected and come to the ground to meet with us. They only allowed the new, hastily assembled Groundling Council of Three—Fox, Pinion, and Bream—to enter the trees for the Confluence. An entire meeting was wasted negotiating that. At least the Three aren’t under armed guard during the meetings anymore. But I’m learning that words can pierce a fragile peace as absolutely as a spear or arrow.
Peree and I have made it clear we intend to partner. Since then, we’ve endured the disapproving silences and openly hostile barbs about how unnatural it is for a Lofty and a Groundling to desire to spend their lives together. Why can't they understand how unnatural it is for our people, related by blood and by place, to live apart?
Peree and I want to spend time together without feeling judged, so we’ve taken to sneaking around. In the trees, we hide out and talk in a lonely shelter far away along the perimeter of the walkways. On the ground, a dense grove of greenheart trees will do. Today we sought out the thick swathes of maiden grass along the banks of the water hole.
A duck honks irritably as we slip through the stiff stalks of its home. The tops of the late-summer grasses shiver well above our heads, concealing waterfowl and lovers alike. We emerge from them now.
With my lips pressed against Peree's, as they were only moments ago, I can ignore the pain of losing Aloe. I can forget the disappointment in our people. These fleeting moments with him are gifts, like the heady scent of the greenheart trees after a storm, or the feel of a silky, unblemished stone from the water hole. Unremarkable to others, maybe, but precious to me.
We slink through the shadowy forest toward the gardens, our arms snaked around each other. Peree still limps, thanks to our harrowing journey through the caves searching for the mythical Hidden Waters. He doesn't complain, but I can hear in his shallow breathing and feel in the tension of his torso how much it cost him to follow me home from Koolkuna before his injured leg was fully healed.
"What are you thinking about?" His voice is a soothing compress for my troubled thoughts.
"Nothing I want to talk about."
He tugs me to a stop. "What kind of nothing?"
"I just wonder how long we can keep this up."
"Keep what up?” He kisses me gently. “This? Forever, I hope."
I smile half-heartedly. "I mean I wonder how long we can be together. Here. In this place.”
"What are you saying? Are you ready to go back to Koolkuna?"
"I don’t know. Maybe.”
"Say the word and we're gone.”
I cock my head. "Really? What about your people? You were so focused on finding a way to help them."
He smoothes my hair. "I have other things to focus on now.”
His lips find mine again, and I feel woozy when we finally break apart, as if I've been swimming underwater for too long.
We walk on, my scarred hand in his bow-callused one. Being Sightless, the sudden brightening of the light is the only thing I’m able to perceive; it tells me we’ve left the forest and entered the large clearing encompassing the gardens.
I pull away from Peree as soon as I hear Groundling voices. He hates my strict no-touching-in-public rule, and I detest it. Still, I don't think we should make things harder for ourselves by flaunting our relationship. Deciding to partner has caused trouble enough.
"Fennel . . . Peree!" Eland's feet thump across the ground toward us.
My little brother doesn't take my hand like he might have before. Any childishness about him was stamped out by our mother’s death, and the hardship our people faced in the caves while besieged by the Lofties and the Scourge. But there are flashes of it, like his willingness to let me tuck him in at night when no one else can see. That's when he feels Aloe’s loss the most. No matter how busy or preoccupied she was she n
ever missed saying goodnight to him. So now, neither will I.
"I strung my bow," Eland says proudly.
"Nice work.” Peree helped him choose a suitable tree branch yesterday and they shaped the bow together. "We can tighten it up a bit, and I'll show you how to make arrows next. Good arrows, like we use."
"Can we do it now?"
"Sure, if your sister can stand to let me go." Peree’s voice is teasing; he nudges me.
I snort. "Eland, you aren't neglecting your work, are you?"
He's helping clear and replant the beds in the garden. He grumbles that it's work for children and elders, arguing that at almost thirteen years old he should be allowed to go out scouting for game with the hunting party now. So far the Three haven't agreed.
“Acacia said I could go. C’mon, Fenn,” Eland pleads. Acacia, my best friend Calli’s mother, took over management of the gardens since the Reckoning.
I purse my lips. "Fine. You boys go have fun playing with your instruments of death and destruction."
Eland tears off toward the archery range, hooting like an owl. I haven't heard him so excited since I returned from Koolkuna. It's a beautiful sound.
Peree leans in very close, pausing a breath away from my face, as if to kiss me again. My cautious, responsible side instantly frets about who might be watching. The rest of me, tingling with anticipation, couldn't care less.
I soak in his summery scent, so much like honeysuckle, trying desperately to prevent my traitorous arms from slipping around him. I'm sure he's smirking, watching me get all flustered. I wish I could touch his mouth to find out for sure, but I don't dare.
He doesn’t kiss me. Instead, he touches the pendant at my neck, the bird he carved for me. Technically, it violates my no public touching rule, but I don't care. I love the gesture—an unspoken reminder of his feelings for me, and our commitment to each other. I want to hold on to him and never let go. But I point myself toward home instead, and he follows Eland.
The rhythmic sound of wood being dissected meets me as I approach the clearing. The Lofties must have agreed to let us cut down a few trees, probably in exchange for extra water. My people have pushed hard since the Reckoning to clean up the gardens, fix our neglected shelters, and hunt for small game. The forest reclaimed our homes with astonishing avidity while we hid in the caves. It took Eland and me hours to march the dust and dirt out of our shelter at broom-point.
Bear's husky voice mingles with those of the axmen in the clearing. I tense, tempted to go back the way I came. He hasn't been treating me differently since I told him I would partner with Peree, but something's definitely off in his voice, and he vanishes whenever Peree's around. I understand, but it still hurts. He’s one of my best friends. Or he was.
Calli shouts from the direction of her shelter, a baiting note in her voice. "Oh, look, it's Fennel! Where do you think she's been?"
My lips flatten into a hard line as she comes toward me. She knows exactly where I've been.
Calli’s scent is sharp and spicy from working in the stillroom. The potent smell summons memories of Nerang, the talented healer who saved Peree’s life in Koolkuna. I long to be with him, little Kora, and my other friends there again.
"How'd you get all this maiden grass in your hair?" Her voice is light, but it has an edge of cattiness. She plucks something off the top of my head.
"You know I was with Peree."
She lowers her voice. "You were with him, but were you with him?"
"None of your business." Especially if you're going to act like this. I try to change the subject. "What about you and Cricket? Any progress there?"
She moans. "Fox won't let us go anywhere alone now that he knows Cricket wants to partner with me.”
I frown. "I'm sorry he's being a stickler."
"He's not being a stickler with you and your Lofty. It's like none of the rules apply to you anymore." Is that what her hostility is about?
"Maybe it’s because I'm not his child.” I keep my voice quiet, unsure who might be listening. "Listen, I didn't plan for any of this to happen the way it did. It's not like I wanted to fall in love with a Lofty. Far from it." I reach out for her hand. "But I did, and I wish you could be happy for me."
"I'm trying. Really.” Her voice is serious now. “It’s not easy. It's so strange . . . a Groundling and a Lofty . . . and it's really hard watching Bear's face when he sees you two together."
Ouch. The wonderful—and terrible—thing about knowing someone your whole life is that they know exactly what to say to influence you. I gather up the guilt and regret about hurting Bear and bury it all in a shallow spot inside me. I'll dig it up later to agonize over when I'm alone.
Ignoring the lump in my throat, I tug on her hand. "Let's forget about boys and go in my shelter and . . ." I cast around for a second, trying to come up with something fun we used to do, "and fix each other's hair. Clearly mine's a wreck."
She hesitates, but only for a moment. She loves messing with my hair. Smiling, I open the door of our shelter and pull her in behind me. My nose wrinkles at the unexpected musky smell inside. And is something . . . dripping?
Calli screams.
I freeze. "What? What's wrong?"
She can't answer; she's too busy shrieking. I yank us back outside, bracing myself for whatever might come flying out. All I hear are the sounds of shouting and running feet as her cry subsides.
She whimpers. "The poor things."
"Are you okay? What happened?" Bear grips my arms. His touch is both comforting and uncomfortable at the same time.
"In there," Calli tells him.
He pulls us behind him and steps toward my shelter. People have gathered around us. Some gasp as they apparently see whatever Calli saw inside; others are silent.
"What is it?" I ask.
"Animals . . . a bird and a rabbit." Bear sounds disgusted. "Someone gutted them. And nailed them to the wall over your bed."
I stumble back, swallowing hard at his words. "What? Why?"
No one answers at first. Bear finally speaks.
"I think it's a message. A pretty sick one."
CHAPTER TWO
I have trouble grasping what Bear said. Someone killed and flayed open some animals? And hung them in our shelter? I shiver from the ill will of the act. Bear tucks me under his arm, a gesture that should be reassuring.
"Aww, isn't that sweet," Moray's horrible drawl breaks the stunned silence around us. "You're a glutton for punishment, aren't you, hero?"
Moray. I wouldn't put it past him to kill defenseless humans, much less animals. I’m pleased to hear he still sports a hint of a lisp from the badly bitten tongue I gave him, but it enrages me that he didn't face any other consequences for attacking me and leaving me to die in a pit in the ground before the Reckoning. Neither did his family—his mother Thistle, brother Cuda, and the other brother whose name I never remember—after they threatened Eland and plotted against Aloe.
They were working with Adder, one of the old Council of Three, who had them convinced that the Lofties wanted to destroy us and take our land. Adder died in the Reckoning, and the new Council didn't have the will to really punish Moray’s family after all our losses.
"Shut it, Moray. Fenn's scared," Bear says.
"You might want to think about being scared, too. Here comes the Lofty. You remember him—the one she actually wants? Don't think he's gonna like you pawing all over his woman."
Bear draws himself up like he's about to answer Moray with a quick fist to his face. I step away so Peree won't see Bear draped over me, but I keep a hand on his arm—half apology, half warning not to start anything. And then Peree is there. I forget about that whole no-touching thing and curl into his arms.
"I heard the scream. Are you alright?" He sounds angry. I've decided that usually means he's worried or scared.
"I'm fine. I guess someone wanted to tell me something but wasn't brave enough to do it in person." I try to sound brave myself as I point to the door
of our shelter; inside I'm still reeling.
Peree goes to look, and he holds me even tighter than before when he returns.
My head snaps up. "Where's Eland?"
"I'm here." His voice, soft and sad, breaks my heart. I pull him to me with my free arm.
"We'll meet later to discuss this,” Fox says. "Right now I need volunteers to take those carcasses down and clean up the mess."
Peree half drags me away again. He doesn't let go of me, and I don't let go of Eland. I have no idea where he’s taking us.
"Climb.” Peree puts ropes in my hands. "I don't know who did that to those animals, or why. But I do know the one place I can keep you two safe is in the trees. Get going."
I'm too rattled to argue. I pick my way up the swinging rope ladder. At the top, I scramble onto the walkway and hang on to the scratchy rope handhold as if my life depends on it. Because it might. Eland scampers after me like a natural; Peree follows him.
"Wow. This is so cool!" My brother keeps his voice down, but it squeaks with suppressed enthusiasm. I have to smile. I forgot this was his first time in the trees. "The walkways are everywhere! You can't tell that from the ground. And the way they build their shelters is different: round instead of rectangular like ours, and wrapped around tree trunks."
Peree points a few things out to him, pride in his voice, as we walk along the narrow planks. I concentrate on not plunging to my death. My stomach churns with what I’ve come to accept as my tree-sickness. I still don't have a good sense of the layout of the Lofty community, which is partly what leads me to feel uneasy. At least Eland doesn't seem to have the same reaction to heights.
"Can I see inside a shelter?" he asks Peree.
"Course you can, little man," a familiar voice says. Petrel. I relax a bit. I haven't had the chance to talk to him very much, but Peree assures me his cousin is on our side. "You can come on over to our place. Hey, Fennel, how's it going? You look a little green."
