Surrender (24 page)

26-Ruby and Quartz

Kaliel pinched the ribbon on her shoe and twisted it back and forth. Since returning from the lake, she had given Mallorn a chance, but their lessons hadn’t helped much. Weeks passed and Winter Solstice approached, the longest night of the year. She tightly hugged her cloak to her shoulders as a gust of wind ripped through the trees. She sat on the mound, staring at the creek. The images of the dream wouldn’t fade; they stuck to her memory like crusted tree sap, forever crystallized in amber. It was late afternoon, the sky covered in gorgeous shades of pink. She pushed her back into the grass and stared at the treetops, the sky and its beautiful shades of blue and magenta.

A smile tickled her lips as she thought of Pux. He added the pink to the sky. It was a familiar reminder of easier days. Her mind drifted to Orlondir, the waterfall, and her heart swelled with longing for Krishani. Lately, her thoughts of him were tainted by fear of the dream. It was so clear those eyes were his eyes, but why couldn’t she remember? There was a life before this life, one that seemed so far away the only remnants of it were the sketches in her journal and that dream. She couldn’t make sense of it; the end of the war, the warning of the Great Oak, the danger of the foe hunting her kind. She couldn’t have been given a heavier burden in life, and all she had ever wanted was freedom.

There was movement behind her. She sat up and looked around as Mallorn approached with his staff.

“Another lesson, then.” He dropped another staff on the ground and crossed the creek. She stood, grabbed the staff, brushed off her ivory dress and followed him into the forests. Mallorn used his walking stick to tap against the trees. Kaliel wondered what he was doing. He slowed to a stop and planted the walking stick firmly in the ground.

“I have organized a series of words, Kaliel. Every time I tap my stick against the trunk of the tree, I want you to tap into my mind and retrieve the word. Simple enough?” His eyes were stern.

She was uneasy. “Do you need to tap the tree?”

Mallorn smirked. “I will be gentle.”

She nodded, and he turned around. She pulled a face, overwhelmed with the task. He walked a bit before he tapped a tree. She closed her eyes and moved with her mind, listening for his voice in her head.
Tree.
She was disappointed with the results.

“Tree,” she said.

He laughed. “Right! See? It won’t be hard.”

The exercise continued for awhile, and parts of it lifted her spirits. They went through ‘rabbit,’ ‘horse,’ ‘tea,’ ‘honey,’ ‘lake,’ ‘leaf,’ and a few others before it came to an end. They were far from his cabin in a part of Nandaro she didn’t recognize. She looked around. The grass was a dark green and the trees were slightly thicker. The smell of hazelnuts was distinct in the air.

Mallorn paused, nodding. “Good.”

Kaliel was getting tired.

Mallorn swung his walking stick up to a diagonal position, holding it with both hands in front of his chest. He nodded at her to do the same.

“Now, we learn defense,” he said.

Slowly, he moved his walking stick towards hers, and made cross-contact with it, lightly tapping the wood. Kaliel leaned back, allowing him to do it. She hadn’t experimented with combat before and this made her uncomfortable.

“No,” he shouted. He let out an exasperated sigh and shook his head.

Kaliel only widened her eyes, unsure how to act.

Mallorn pulled away and dropped the stick, then lunged out just a few steps from her, holding it diagonally across his midsection. “Copy my stance.”

She took a step forward, not quite a lunge, and maneuvered the stick so it was diagonally across her chest, mirroring Mallorn. She felt like an idiot for not being able to follow his instructions, and there was the ever-pressing threat of other things on her mind. This seemed so frivolous since it wasn’t like she’d master anything. She already knew fighting wasn’t going to help her.

He cringed, but nodded. “Right. Just … opposite of me.” She frowned and switched directions. He smiled. “Fair enough. Taking this slower, then.” He tried again as he lunged forward and tapped his stick against hers. “Step back and switch directions.”

She followed him and gave him a crooked smile. She wanted to please at least one elder in her life.

“You have the movements, now you will protect your thoughts against my intrusions.”

Kaliel sighed, ready to try defending herself. They slowly backed through the forest. Mallorn stayed quiet for a long time.

“Flower,” he said with a stern look.

Kaliel frowned, growing determined to block him. The girls in the corridor, the shadowy shapes that took them, she had to be strong enough to resist them. She wouldn’t be like the others and give up without a fight. She wouldn’t have to face the enemies if she stayed on Avristar, if the Valtanyana never found her. Part of her knew hiding forever wasn’t much of a plan, but it was all she had for the time being. His stick tapped against hers as she lunged backwards. She focused harder on shielding as Mallorn tried to penetrate her thoughts.

She didn’t let him through.

“Very good,” he said.

She only nodded. An owl hooted in the distance, a rabbit scuttled through the trees, which whined from the sharp winds clawing at their leaves. She cringed, her thoughts drifted to the dream of the Ferryman. She repeated the word Ferryman in her mind, over and over again, while Mallorn’s expression remained. She glanced behind her to make sure she wouldn’t step on anything. The barn was in the distance behind her and a bit of relief wash over her.

“Ferryman,” Mallorn said as he tapped his staff against hers. His eyes met hers with awe as he stopped and stood straight, his body rigid.

Kaliel dropped the staff at his feet and raced to the barn. There were things she couldn’t tell him—the whole of her parable and the dream about Krishani. Part of her was afraid he would look at her differently if he knew the truth. She was determined to steal what little innocence she had left. Giving him a chance to help her control her abilities was all she planned on doing. They had been through the tattered manuscripts a thousand times about the Flames, there was no information directly relating to the Amethyst Flame. Even though he was trying to help she didn’t know more about what she was before she arrived. She reached the barn and ducked inside. The horses were asleep in their stalls. She stumbled over to Umber.

“Can you hear me?”

“As always,” he said.

“Let me hide in your stall?”

“Why hide from Mallorn?”

She darted around the horse and slumped in the corner. “I messed up.” She rested her head against the wood, tears rolling down her face as she fixed her gaze on the hooves. She didn’t want to tell Mallorn she was in love with the Ferryman. Nobody knew about Krishani, he was a secret she’d never share.

“You cannot avoid him forever,” Umber said.

“For now I can.”

• • •

Kaliel dreamt of the lake. Her feet dangled over the ledge as she stared at the horizon. The waters were shrouded in a thick mist that curled around the surface of the shore, rising towards the hill she was on. She stretched out her arms and yawned, gazing at the sandy beach below. It was tan, littered with stray twigs and rocks. She got curious and leaned forward, wanting to see the beach up close. She would have to go down the hill and over the rocks if she wanted to stand on the beach. The gargoyle cave scared her away, the gangly creatures frightened her. Unlike the merfolk they didn’t seem gentle at all. As she bent over, she sensed commotion in the cave. She perked up and watched as darkness fell across the lake, turning the waters black.

She frowned as a gargoyle emerged from the cave, scrambling on all fours towards the grass. It was one of the gargoyles that were said to protect Avristar. A boat pressed up against the shore, and Kaliel moved her gaze down the hill as people approached. She stiffened. Krishani was there. Why was he there? She scrambled to her feet and clambered down the hill. She was careful to stay concealed as she watched the heads of the elders drifting through the trees. She darted between the spruces, trying to find him. Her hands clawed at branches as she got turned around, confusion welling up within her as a deep ache forced her to clutch her chest and crouch to the ground. Her knees hit the spruce needles in the grass followed by her hands.

She looked again; Krishani was pacing through the trees. She felt his anger, sadness and fear as she helplessly watched him go past.

Why are you leaving me?
She desperately needed to know. Kaliel remembered the boats, the gargoyle. She scrambled through the forest brush, being careful not to make noise, to cry out. She reached the edge of the tree line and watched the crowd of elders, Lord Istar, Lady Atara, and others gathered around the boat. Krishani stepped into the boat. Kaliel raced to her feet and placed her hand on the side of a tree, trying to steady herself while attempting to comprehend what was happening.

Krishani turned and raised his head, his blue and green eyes staring into the crowd of elders. They looked pained in a way she couldn’t understand. She stepped away from the tree, shock and anguish tightening in her gut. Her foot caught on itself and she tumbled down the hill towards the array of elders, landing on her hands and knees in front of them. They all looked at her with forlorn expressions, but none of them said a word.

She pushed herself up and looked at Krishani. He appeared so downtrodden, like he would rather crumble to dust than be on the boat. He wouldn’t look at her.

“Are you leaving me?” she asked.

He hung his head as the gargoyle pushed the boat into the mists. The elders vanished and she cried out as she stood on the ledge, watching the boat drift away and out of sight.

“No.” She gasped. Her eyes snapped open and she shook her head, noting she was back in the barn. It was a dream. Her heart pounded so loud she heard its pulse in her ears as she sputtered and attempted to breathe. She clawed at the walls as she fought to stand.

“Careful child. What troubles you?” Umber said.

“Krishani will leave me,” she said.

“That cannot be.” Umber grunted and scratched his hoof on the ground in apparent discomfort.

Kaliel felt the roughness of the wood under her frail hands as she pulled herself up and fell against the side of the horse. She felt so dizzy as the revelation hit her. She pressed her cheek into the fur and closed her eyes, trying to find her feet. Her hands pushed at the horse and she stumbled awkwardly through the barn and out into the forest. It was pitch black, the sky void of the moon. She wrapped her arms around her waist, trying to hold herself together. It was useless. All she could think of was Krishani’s arms around her, his sweet nothings whispered in her ear, his lips on hers. She desperately wanted to be in his arms; no more Mallorn, no more lessons, no more dreams, no more Flames.

All I want is this and nothing else
, she thought bitterly as she traipsed through the trees.

The border between Nandaro and Orlondir wasn’t far. She needed to race against this twist of fate and find him before the unthinkable happened.

Dizziness swept her under as she fought to separate the shapes of the trees from shadows. She ran her fingers along the bark and turned and turned, winding through the spaces between the trunks. She tilted her head upward, tracing patterns of black leaves against midnight blue sky. She sighed as she continued to fight her way through the night. Desperation overwhelmed her as the longing for his warmth hit her again. She kneeled on the ground and let out a sob. Her limbs went weak as her elbows touched the ground and she buried her face between her hands. Tears spilled onto the grass. She was helpless and out of time.

There’s nothing I can do,
she thought as she pounded her fists on the ground. She rolled on her back, hands rubbing her stomach, begging for some kind of comfort to come. She saw the waterfall in her mind’s eye, and heard Krishani’s voice in her head.
I won’t surrender.

“He promised he never would,” she whispered as the wind rustled the trees. She curled the blades of grass under her fingers and ripped them out of the soil. Her chest heaved in spurts of anxiety. She had no idea where she was anymore. Orlondir seemed too far away for her to travel on foot, and he would be gone before she could reach him.

“What troubles you, Little Flame?”

Kaliel jumped. She looked around, trying to place the voice. She stretched out her arms and felt for anything near her. There was a tree to her right. Her hand traced along the trunk and she realized it was older than the others. She dropped her hand and crawled over to the tree, aligning her spine with it. She let out an exasperated sigh. She longed to go back in time, to erase the words of the Great Oak, to stop the foe from seeking her, to live in bliss from her past, yet she knew none of that was possible.

“He’s being forced to leave me,” she said.

“Then it was not meant to be.”

The words stung her heart. “But it was.”

“And now it is no more.”

The words crushed the last of her strength; darkness engulfed her in its cold embrace. Her eyes drooped shut and she slipped into the abyss.

Wansa.

The words were clear as crystal, but she couldn’t understand them. She was … somewhere. Underground maybe … a crypt? Torches flickered on the walls and she felt the sticky ooze beneath her feet as she assessed her surroundings. Pain stabbed her stomach. She put pressure on the imaginary wound, but as she peered through the bars she saw a girl pressed up against the wall.

Corza.

More words in a language she didn’t understand. Kaliel watched her with delirious attention. The girl’s eyes were closed and her mouth moved, mumbling something. Kaliel moved towards the cage and curled her fingers through the spaces between the bars, pushing her face into the iron to get a better glimpse.

The girl’s wrists were in shackles, her midnight-black hair matted against her face. Her eyes darted back and forth underneath their tan lids. Kaliel backed away from the bars and stumbled through the muck as she turned and tried to claw her way through the catacombs.