The Defiance (Brilliant Darkness)

by A. G. Henley

  "That doesn't mean anything to me. Sometimes I wish he wasn't good looking. He attracted a little too much female attention in Koolkuna."

  "You aren't the jealous type, are you?" Calli teases, turning me around again.

  "I didn't think I was until I met him. Now I'm not so sure." I pick up my basket and reach for her hand. "Sit with me at the meeting?"

  "Of course. We've got to stick together. Plus I'm still playing hard to get with Cricket. I already spent the afternoon with him; I can't spend all evening with him, too."

  "Poor guy. He has no clue what he's in for."

  She swings our hands between us as we walk back toward the clearing. "I have to keep him on his toes."

  I chuckle. "At least he'll be taller then, right?"

  She sighs dramatically. "If only." A moment later she stops us. I feel her bend down next to me as she lets go of my hand. "Huh."

  "What is it?"

  "A feather."

  That's not so strange. Animals may be scarce on the forest floor, but birds flourish in the trees. They're a mainstay of the Lofties’ diet. "What kind of feather?"

  "That's just it. I've never seen one like it. It's colorful . . . I mean, really colorful, like red and orange and green. I'd like to see the bird this came from. It probably poops rainbows." She puts it in my hand. "Give it to your Lofty. It'll look so pretty in his hair." She's joking, but for the first time I don't feel like her humor is a thin cover for her anger.

  I hope our talk brought us back a little closer to the way we were. Best friends. Partners in crime.

  But I don't know if it's really possible now after everything that's happened, after all of my choices and hers, and all that could still happen before I leave, maybe forever, for Koolkuna.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I bounce my legs in front of me. They're stiff from sitting through the meal, and now the meeting, in the brisk evening air. At least I have a relatively full stomach, and the fire is warm and comforting.

  I watch the firelight frisk against my perpetual darkness. I asked Marj why the contrast of light and dark is the only thing I can sort of see. She speculated it's because I was sighted, for however short a time, before the Three took my vision. The perception of light was all they left. Thinking about it makes me bitter, but then I remember Nerang’s gentle reminder that being Sightless has also forced me to be strong. I need that strength now.

  Bream is doing his best to make a quick meeting long, drawn out, and skull-crushingly boring. He's going on about the progress made by the Confluence. Or lack of it.

  "The Council will get to the bottom of who set the fire in the cave and threatened one of our young people," Bream is saying. "Lofty aggression, while certainly having roots in our shared history of mistrust . . ." he stops to clear his voice and blow his nose, prompting a low, "Oh, for the love of—" from Calli, who’s sitting beside me, " . . . is a clear indication of their blatant disregard for our rules and mutual agreements to honor the boundaries of our respective territories. It cannot be tolerated. Of course, this is not the first time the Lofties—"

  "Yes, yes, Bream," Vole says. "We know all about the Lofties and their aggression. The question is what the Council plans to do about it?" The crowd murmurs its agreement.

  "And what about the fires?" someone else calls out. “Who set them?”

  "These are certainly serious questions," Pinion says. " I'm assuming no one wants to admit to setting one or both of the fires?" Silence. "Then I suggest we start with a discussion of how to proceed with the Lofties. The Confluence is indeed in jeopardy. There's no use pretending otherwise. The Lofties will be at least as suspicious of us as we are of them. We don't know yet how they will respond. But do we want to continue our talks with them? What is the will of the people?"

  There are sounds of confusion around me. The Three never ask what to do, they tell. This is encouraging, at least to me.

  "I've said from the beginning they can't be trusted." It's Thistle, Moray's horrible, meddling mother. I want to stick my fingers in my ears to shut out her piercing voice. "And those who befriend them can't be trusted either.” I bristle, but stay silent. “This talk of negotiations and Convergences hasn't gotten us anywhere. The only thing the Lofties pay attention to is action. Words do no good with them. It's like talking to a young child. In one ear and out the other."

  "Maybe they're mentally deficient," a woman jokes.

  "We already knew that," Moray says. Others laugh.

  "Please stay on task," Fox interrupts. "The Council has decided to try a new approach by asking for your thoughts and opinions . . . don't make us regret it." He says the last with his usual humor, getting a few more chuckles.

  My first thought is to speak up and encourage cooperation with the Lofties, but I don't. I'd be dismissed as only interested in defending my intended and his people. I need to lay low, find out where this will go.

  "I have every reason to hate the Lofties." It's a woman called Ivy. Her voice is normally high and breezy. Tonight it sinks under all the suffering of the last few weeks. Her partner was killed in the Reckoning, leaving her with a young daughter, Dahlia, to raise. "But isn’t this an opportunity? If we work with them, maybe their lookouts would give us more warning when the Scourge comes, or we might get permission to cut down more trees for wood. Or maybe,” she pauses, “maybe we could do away with the Exchange.”

  Her words garner a smattering of claps.

  "But will they even consider working with us now? What's your sense, Fox?" someone asks.

  "Weren't the fires answer enough?" Thistle says sharply. "They don't want to have anything to do with us, any more than we do."

  "Speak for yourself, Thistle," Vole says. "Ivy has a point. We could benefit from developing better relations with the Lofties. And what about the other goal of the Confluence, to talk about what Fennel told us about the water, what the Scourge really is, and this Kookoony place she found?"

  Thistle's dismissive laughter is more of a bark. "Are we going to blindly accept what Fennel tells us? We have no proof that this magical place exists."

  “Why would Fenn lie, Thistle?” Bear sounds annoyed.

  “She’s a Lofty lover. Bear, you of all people should know she’s capable of betrayal.”

  “She didn’t betray me,” he mutters. I close my eyes, tamping down my anger and embarrassment.

  Fox clears his throat. "Yes, well, perhaps the water and Koolkuna are subjects best left for another time.”

  I wait for someone to press them to talk about it. From the uncomfortable shifting and muttering around me, the subject of the poisoned water and the possibility that we all might be delusional about the Scourge are even more difficult topics than how to handle the Lofties.

  It reminds me of something Aloe used to say: Better the devil you know than the devil you don't. The Lofties and the Scourge might be devils, but at least they're familiar devils. Giving up a belief you’ve held close all your life, a belief that shapes how you live in your world, is even more frightening.

  "Why not discuss it now?” I ask. I can't help it. I have to try one more time before Peree and I pick up and leave. “If we went to Koolkuna, we'd be leaving the problems with the Lofties behind." I hope Peree and Kadee will convince at least some of the Lofties to go, too, but mentioning that out now wouldn't be terribly helpful. “When I was sent to the Hidden Waters, I thought the idea was to find somewhere we could go that would be safe from the Scourge. What's stopping us from leaving, other than our fears? Why are we wasting all this time? We could already be there."

  "Spoken like a true heroine," Fox says. "Your journey to the Waters clearly gave you a taste for adventure." His voice is warm, almost paternal, but also condescending. It grates on me.

  "Not to mention a taste for Lofty men," Moray says.

  "Leave my intended out of this.” I face the people and raise my hand, palm up, in a pleading gesture. “Just reacting to this latest crisis isn't our only option. If the Three want our
opinions, then let’s discuss going to Koolkuna."

  "Fennel, we need time to process all that you told us about the Hidden Waters, the Scourge, and this village you found," Pinion says. "And with the recent events—"

  "How much time?" I snap. "I mean, I'm just asking. A day? A moon? Until the next Exchange? Ask your questions. I'll tell you anything you want to know."

  "Here's one," someone says. "Why do you want to have a relationship with a Lofty after everything that's happened? You lost your mother in the Reckoning, after all."

  I'm about to angrily remind them that a Groundling spear, not a Lofty arrow, killed Aloe, but I'm distracted by a new voice.

  "Fenn asked us to leave her intended out of it," Calli says, sounding nervous, but determined. I’m surprised she's publicly taking my side. "I think we should respect her wishes. Her relationship with him isn't what we're meeting to talk about, right?"

  “Here, here,” says Bear from around the other side of the fire. “I want to know more about Koolkuna and how it’s protected.”

  I throw them both a grateful smile. My friends' support means more to me than I can tell them with words. I grab the opportunity they created for me with both hands.

  I explain again about how the pure waters of the Myuna protect the anuna, the people of Koolkuna. I talk about the easy wonders of life there. With my words, I try to paint a portrait of how our lives could be there. Not perfectly rendered, but better than here. Patiently, I answer my people’s questions.

  Thistle, Moray, and a few others heckle me once or twice, but the majority seems honestly curious about what I have to say. I can tell they aren’t quite able to bring themselves to believe me, but they listen. And that was all I asked.

  “So we can just pick up and go live there?” Vole asks. He sounds cautious, but optimistic.

  “Yes,” I respond. “The anuna are a generous people.”

  Thistle cackles. “No one is that generous. Anyone who thinks otherwise is mad.”

  I don’t respond. Arguing with Thistle won’t get me anywhere. And I have no desire to persuade her to come to Koolkuna, anyway.

  “Well,” Pinion says. “You’ve given us a lot to think about.” Her tone tells me my time is up.

  I sit, wondering if there was something more I could have said, one more argument I could have made in favor of the whole group going to Koolkuna. I’m not sure what it would be. I guess it’s up to them to decide now.

  The meeting ends soon after. People begin moving toward their shelters, and bed. Bream speaks to me as I get to my feet.

  “It turned out to be a nice evening after the rain, didn’t it?” His voice is unusually wheezy, like he's sickening. He pauses, waiting while others around us move off. “With the weather changing, the Council requests that you to continue to prepare the caves. It may not be long before the Scourge returns."

  I'm not surprised at their order. The cooler evening breezes whisper of the approach of autumn. The scent of the greenheart trees has intensified, too, as if they're gathering themselves up, bundling in preparation for the coming of winter. The sick ones do come more often in the colder weather, probably because of the scarcity of food. It must add to their misery even more than it adds to ours.

  "While we require and appreciate your efforts in the caves," he continues, "we also feel it is too dangerous for you to work alone now. There was the fire. And the threats, of course, and—"

  "I remember.” I cut him off before he wanders off topic.

  "Yes, well. The Council feels it would be prudent to assign someone to accompany you to the caves. We asked for a volunteer. He will help you with your work, and he has agreed to provide protection."

  It must be Bear. That's not going to work. I already begged him to keep a close eye on Eland. It was a lot to ask given all that's unresolved between us, but he agreed without hesitation. He can't watch Eland if he's in the caves with me.

  "I'll be fine, Bream. Thanks anyway. Tell Bear he's off the hook."

  Bream coughs. "Bear is not the volunteer. Moray will accompany you."

  My hands clench into fists at my sides. He can’t be serious.

  “We understand there was trouble between you and Moray before the Reckoning. However, he has assured us that he has only your best interests at heart now. He would like to make amends for his past mistakes, and he certainly has the physical ability protect you."

  Moray herded me through the caves, my hands tied behind my back. He forced himself on me, punched me after I bit his tongue, and threw me into the pit fully expecting I would die there. His family threatened my brother, and they may have been behind Aloe’s murder.

  "My best interests? Are you kidding? Are the Three actively trying to get rid of me?"

  "Please calm yourself, Fennel. We have no such intentions. As you know, putting differences behind us is essential for the well-being of our community. Our hope is that with this arrangement you and Moray will be able to work things out between you. He understands there will be consequences for any future ill-considered behavior—"

  "Ill-considered behavior?” They act like he was being a naughty little boy when he attacked me.

  Bream ignores my outburst. “If any Lofties are found on the ground, Moray has the authority to do what he must to protect you, our people, and our homes. He will restrain the person and bring him to us for questioning . . . and appropriate punishment. We will not tolerate a Lofty being in our territory without permission. Is that understood?”

  I nod once. So that was the real message the Three wanted to give me: stay away from Peree or we’ll punish him.

  I understand all right. And I don’t like it one bit.

  I wend my way stiffly toward our shelter, leaving Bream and the waning flicker of firelight behind me.

  I understand why the Three feel they need someone who will tell them what I’m up to, someone who isn’t aligned with me. I haven’t exactly followed orders lately. But I can't believe they assigned Moray to watch me. They must not care about me or my safety at all. Even Fox, the closest thing I’ve had to a father. Sadness soaks me to the core.

  Someone slips up to me—Eland. I keep walking, too distracted to reach out my hand to him like I usually would. He falls a step behind.

  "Do you want to be alone?" he asks.

  I take a long, conscious breath to slow the angry throbbing in my chest and head. "Of course not."

  I hook my arm through his and we cross the spongy ground together.

  I pull the chair in front of the door as we go in. I really don't want to speak to anyone else tonight. I climb onto my pallet, exhausted, and lie huddled up, as far away from the wall as I can get. The mingling scents of damp wood tinged with mold and animal blood depresses me more.

  I give up. I'm ready to leave for Koolkuna. Now. Tonight.

  Why wasn't I ready after I found out the Three blinded me as a child? Or when I was thrown into a pit? Or when Aloe and Shrike were killed? Or after the fires? Why weren't dead animals spiked to my wall enough of a hint for me? Why has it taken me this long to give up on my people?

  Eland shifts on his pallet.

  "Tell me something, Eland. Do you want to go to Koolkuna? Or do you want to stay here?"

  He doesn't hesitate. "I want to be where you are."

  My chest tightens, making it hard to speak. "That's it then. As soon as I can talk to Peree, we'll leave. Just the three of us. Are you okay with that?"

  "Yeah." He sounds . . . resigned.

  "I'm sorry things are turning out this way. It isn't what I wanted."

  Eland doesn't say anything for a minute. "I wonder what Mother would have done. Do you think she would've gone? Or stayed here?"

  "I don't know."

  But I do know. I just don't like to think about it, because it forces me to compare my choices to hers. Aloe would've thought it was her duty to stay and serve on the Council as long as the majority of the people stayed. Even if it wasn’t what she wanted.

  Eland says, "
If she didn't go, I would've had to choose between staying here with her or going with you. I'm glad I don't have to do that."

  "We never would have made you do that. If Aloe was still here . . . everything would be different."

  I don't really believe that. I doubt Eland believes it, either. It was never going to be easy, with or without Aloe.

  Eland's breath eventually slows and deepens, but I can't fall asleep.

  He didn't say he wanted to go to Koolkuna. What he said was he wanted to be with me. That's not the same thing. I'm tearing my brother away from his home and his people, everyone and everything he's ever known, right after he lost his mother. All so I can be with Peree. I punch my lumpy pallet.

  No, that's not true. This isn't only about being with Peree. I wouldn't make Eland go if I didn't believe he would have a better life in Koolkuna. I want him to grow up in a safe place with people who support—even encourage—differences of opinion. I have to believe I'm taking him away for the right reasons, really believe it, or I can't go through with this.

  In the meantime, I steel myself for the task of severing the threads that bind me to my home and my people. I lie there well into the night, listening to the mournful calls of the doves, as one by one the stitches pull free. And I bleed and bleed and bleed.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Before he went back up to the trees, Peree told me he’d come to the caves to see me while I’m working. It’s too risky now, but I don’t have any way to warn him off. Plus I need to speak to him.

  I feel stiff and crumpled after my sleepless night, like a rag left to dry in the sun. But I'm prepared to tell him that Eland and I are ready to go now. We need to plan when and how we’re leaving.

  People flit in and out of the clearing around me as I eat breakfast. I barely acknowledge their occasional greetings, continuing the painful task of distancing myself that I began the night before.

  I hear Moray sitting nearby, whistling off-key. The sound sets my teeth on edge.