Authors: Rhiannon Paille
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 serve. They weren’t like the feorns, the fae, the shee, or the centaurs, frivolously falling in love and settling down in 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 lands. I stay on 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. Closing her eyes, indigo flames danced behind them. She didn’t know what to think of the flames, but ever since she had gone to the Great Oak she had dreams 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, 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.”
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.
* * *
9-The Royal City
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 and glanced at the bags that had been there for days. She sighed. There wasn’t much for her to take: the dresses in the drawers, her hair brush and ribbons for tying it back, her slippers, journal, and the birthstone. It was sitting in the middle of her dresser in a small box Luenelle had lent to her. She took the stone in her hands, turning 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. Kaliel felt as though she were surrounded by the sounds of the lake as the currents pushed and pulled at her.
A rush of violet-colored light struck her. She gasped and dropped the stone. The violet light faded as she gawked at it. Underneath the milky white cover the birthstone 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 quickly placed the stone in its 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, then stopped and hugged her sheepishly. “I’ll miss you,” he said as he left.
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.
• • •
Kaliel lay awake in her bed in the middle of the night. She hadn’t paid much attention to the Beltane 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.
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 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.
Pangs 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, poking 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 on the path.
Kaliel sat back with a huff and then leaned forward again. “Why?”
“Because I don’t know,” Desaunius said.
The carriage pulled into Orlondir and the smell of apples hit Kaliel full on. Her lips spread into a smile at the sweetness of it, and she sighed. Everything about Orlondir reminded her of Krishani. Being in the place they met a year and a half ago only made her more nervous. She wondered how she could distract herself from the pull of the waterfall, the longing to see the merfolk in the pond. It would be impossible. All she could hope for was benevolence or ignorance from her new elder.
Orlondir stretched on for acres. The trees weren’t as tall as the ones in Evennses; they thinned out to allow for grass, small ponds and springs to sprout from the land. They passed a break in the trees where a smaller path led to one of the many villages in Orlondir. Kaliel could smell the smoke from the hearth fire and let the scent comfort her.
She poked her head through the canvas again. “Does Lady Atara have any other apprentices in Orlondir?”
“No,” Desaunius answered, her shoulders tightening.
Kaliel frowned. The prospect of friends was out of the question. “Has she ever had apprentices?”
“Yes, many of them.”
“Where are they now?”
“The Lands of Men,” Desaunius said.
Kaliel twisted in her hands in her lap, unsure what to think. She was curious about the affairs in the Lands of Men, but not curious enough to leave Avristar. “Do they ever return?”
“Sometimes.”
Kaliel stared at the roof of the carriage. Orlondir was so vibrant during the festival season; it seemed so cold in between. The Beltane Festival had just ended, and so it would be many moons before Samhain. A pang of nerves hit her as she realized if she was patient, she might see Krishani again. She peered out the front of the caravan. The horse’s tails swished back and forth as they pulled towards the bridge and the moat. She caught them out of the corner of her eye and her senses perked up, the sadness draining away.
“Is that—?” she asked, pointing at the stone walls around the castle.
“Aye, we have arrived,” Desaunius said.
The horses pulled through the wide, heavy gates and trotted into the courtyard. Desaunius yanked on the reins and pulled them to a stop.
Kaliel paused in the back of the carriage, and waited for Desaunius to come around back and assist her. The girl who showed herself a moment later wasn’t Desaunius. She had long brown hair and eyes, pointed ears and a bland linen gown.
“Greetings,” the girl said with bright eyes.
“Greetings,” Kaliel said.
The girl held out her hand and Kaliel hopped off the back of the carriage, landing on the cobble-stone walkway. She winced at the hard stone against her slippers, but shook away the discomfort. She went to get her bag, but the girl already had it on the ground. Kaliel quickened her pace and reached for the little box with the birthstone. It was the only memory of home she had.
Desaunius rounded the carriage and pulled Kaliel into her embrace. “Be well, child,” she whispered into her hair.
Kaliel was unsure how she would feel when the moment came, but now that it was here she was sad. “I want to go home.”
Desaunius laughed. “Be strong,” she said, then whispered, “And wild.”
Kaliel pulled her into an embrace. “Thank you,” she whispered. She glanced at the servant girl for a moment, hoping she would say something, but she stayed silent.
“Give Atara my regards,” Desaunius said.
The servant bowed her head and struggled to sling the bag over her shoulder. “This way, Kaliel.”
Kaliel followed her, but turned, watching Desaunius pull the carriage out of the courtyard and over the bridge. She felt a hand on her shoulder.
“It gets easier,” the servant girl said.
* * *