Cages of Alyssum (The Moonbond Trials #1)
CHAPTER ONE
ALYSSUM
My limbs ached as I white-knuckled the ironbark tree trunk beside me.
The logical part of my brain was certain that the branch I rested on was secure, and I had absolutely nothing to worry about.
The rest of my body, however, existed in direct opposition.
My traitorous heart palpitated as I attempted to dissuade the panic that tore through me whenever I looked down.
The forest floor seemed so, so far away. I hadn’t climbed for that long, had I?
They’ll write tales of my genius, I thought bitterly. What self-respecting Sentinel plans an ambush from above when they’re afraid of heights? Then again, what self-respecting Sentinel is afraid of heights to begin with?
“It’s not like you’re a real Sentinel,” Linus would say. “Nothing more than a princess playing dress-up.”
Just the thought of his pallid, pointed features and know-it-all smirk was enough to make me wrinkle my nose.
Focus, I reminded myself. The sun’s unrelenting glare, evidenced by the beads of sweat tickling my neck and back, had me questioning my sanity.
She could arrive any minute, and I was in the absolute last place she’d expect me to be.
But maybe… just maybe… it wasn’t necessary I wait on the highest branch possible.
Reluctantly, I loosened my grip, casting a panicked, wayward glance below. A groan bubbled up from my throat; there was no way I could pounce from this height. Why in the depths had I kept climbing?
“Idiot,” I mumbled, readjusting myself so that I could begin a partial descent.
I had been so focused on not falling—and perhaps on impressing her—that I had continued to scale the tree until my screaming legs and heaving chest absolutely refused.
Substantially higher than was necessary, in the end.
I would lose all element of surprise just trying to reach the ground safely.
The perfect recipe for yet another failed ambush to keep me up at night.
Linus was right, the bastard. I wouldn’t have been accepted as a Sentinel, even if it were within my power to take the oath.
With an air of disappointment, I began an irrationally slow downward climb.
I clutched at the bark, hands raw and red where calluses would have formed had I been allowed to train at an earlier age.
My toes, protected in fortified Sentinel-issued boots, searched for secure branches and deep notches that would hold my weight, and each time I gripped the trunk for dear life and lowered myself further, a fresh wave of apprehension flooded me.
I hate this. I hate everything about this.
I slipped on slick, dead leaves molded to a branch, stifling a yelp. My heart threatened to leave my chest entirely as I managed to steady flailing legs and regain my footing.
“I can’t do this,” I whispered, eyes slamming shut against the height that still awaited me.
“I can’t.” A boulder of dread had replaced my stomach.
I had failed, again, and even worse, Anise was going to find me cowering in a tree like a child.
She was going to have to coax me down, and that would be the end of it.
No more training, no more pretending that I could make it as a Sentinel in another life.
Surely, she would cut me loose. An embarrassment. A complete and total—
A new breed of fear heightened my senses, snapped-open eyes and strained ears trying to confirm what I heard: Voices. Men. At least two. Drawing near, but seemingly unaware of my existence.
They had to be Sentinels, but even that made little sense.
Sentinels were never stationed beyond the wall.
Then again, no one aside from a Sentinel would dare leave the safety of Lunamor.
It had taken weeks for Anise to convince me we wouldn’t be devoured by a three-headed beast the moment we stepped foot into the woods beyond our kingdom, and that fear had not entirely subsided, even now—so their mission must have been one of grave importance.
I drew in a deep, steadied breath, willing myself to calm.
Whoever they were, whatever their purpose, there was one immutable truth: if I were to be found beyond the wall, it would result in a punishment far worse than when I’d been caught in the Scholar’s library.
The thought prompted an involuntary rounding of my shoulders, the now-puckered scars on my back growing sensitive against the linen of my undershirt. A silent protest of my recklessness.
This wasn’t worth the risk, and I would tell Anise exactly that when she arrived.
May as well add coward to the ever-growing list of my inadequacies.
In the meantime, I had no choice but to stay hidden, so I straddled the base of the branch beneath me, feet dangling in the air.
I could no longer focus on the drop below, even as a gust of warm wind sent my stomach tumbling.
I pressed urgently around the edges of the coif beneath my hood.
Although the dark grey Sentinel uniform camouflaged perfectly against Lunamor’s stone wall and the ironbark forest surrounding it, the pale blonde hair that betrayed my true origins did not.
Thankfully, the braids pinned to my head remained secure.
For good measure, I adjusted the weighted hood of my cloak before raising the high collar of my tunic over the lower half of my face.
I had considered stashing my Sentinel’s cloak nearby because of the stifling temperature, but ultimately decided it was an unnecessary risk, and as the clicking of metal on metal and nervous chatter sounded through the air, I was glad I’d trusted my instincts.
The last remaining evidence of my identity was my eyes, too abnormally bright to be mistaken for Lunamorian. I could lower the gossamer veil attached to my hood if needed, but for now, I wanted to get a better look at the men who intruded upon my unofficial training grounds.
In one slow, deliberate motion, I retrieved the spyglass from my belt while leaning ever-so-slightly to peer beyond the ironbark trunk, thighs strangling the tree’s limb with every bit of strength they had left.
There were plumes of dirt billowing beyond the bend, but it was the men within the debris that tightened my chest.
They were Sentinels, indeed. But they weren’t just outside the wall—they had been fitted with metals.
From a distance, the matte, ink-black of onyxium plates and chain mail blended into the dark grey of their tunics, but as they emerged from beneath a particularly thick canopy of leaves, sunlight melted across their chests, drawing attention to the metal that seemed to swallow all light that hit it.
I had only seen onyxium once before, when Anise had brought me to the armory.
It was a rare, precious metal, and supply was limited, so to be fitted outside of wartime… I had never heard of such a thing.
What’s more, I recognized both men immediately.
Their names escaped me, but I knew the sandy blonde was a newer recruit.
His soft features did little to untangle the knot in my stomach, because even if he might succumb to a bribe, his companion certainly knew better.
That towering, dark-haired man walked two paces slower, as if he had little interest in being there at all.
He was a friend of Linus’, so, naturally, I wanted nothing to do with him.
Even still, his name was on the tip of my tongue. I could have sworn it started with a P.
Pissy! Or Prissy, maybe? No, that doesn’t sound right…
When a particularly powerful bout of wind threatened to blow my hood back, I swore under my breath, clutching at the tree’s bark as though it could protect me from the situation I’d found myself in.
Why did they have to be right here, right now, and what were they even doing on this side of the wall?
Could Lunamor be in danger? Was that even possible? I cursed the deafening beat of my heart as I strained in an attempt to eavesdrop.
“—it’s been two weeks!” Blondie seemed exasperated, and the pinched look on Prissy’s face indicated much the same. “Let the wolves have his corpse.”
“He better not be a corpse,” Prissy said, his voice low and hoarse. “If he is, you’re carrying him.”
“Oh, absolutely not.”
“Is that right?” Prissy cast his companion a side-eye that blanched the young man.
“Should’ve brought a donkey,” Blondie grumbled. “No guarantee he’s even coming back! I wouldn’t risk it, if I were to cross. Would you?”
“I’d never be stupid enough to cross in the first place.”
I ducked behind the trunk, eyes wide. A man had crossed the Threshold and they were searching for him.
The idea was so inconceivable, I recoiled at the very thought.
Anyone who could stare into that barrier of fog and venture forth must be mad, and undoubtedly dead, if not worse—so why would they bother sending armored Sentinels into the wood searching for him?
Sentinels who, it seemed, were peculiarly unsure of the man’s fate themselves.
Of course there were stories about what happened to crossers who attempted returning to the safety of Lunamor, but they were just that: stories.
Because instead of returning with some form of explanation for their recklessness, they vanished, never to be seen again.
Murdered by a wolf, the non-believers would say.
Or swallowed up by the fog entirely, unable to find their way back.
The more fear-inducing tales involved mystical creatures whose souls had been hidden from the stars, doomed to an agonizing, meaningless existence where fulfillment only comes from tormenting others.
They could drink your youth, harvest your soul, and leave you little more than a memoryless shell of your former self.
Maybe that’s why their memories had gone, I considered. Maybe they experienced such unthinkable horrors beyond the Threshold that the only way for a mind to cope was to wipe the slate clean.
“Why are you so afraid? What memories do you have worth keeping, anyway?” Linus’ voice, loud enough that he may as well have been beside me.
I wasn’t sure when I had internalized my brother’s commentary, but I added it to the list of things I would never forgive him for.
Especially as I suspected his flippant demeanor wouldn’t survive the sight of their metals.
It was strange enough for Sentinels to be outside the wall, but to be armored with onyxium?
I searched my catalogue of thoughts until I recalled what Anise had said in the armory.
Not only was onyxium scarce, she’d insisted, but its purpose was singular: the only metal rumored to be immune to the effects of creatures and magic, but somehow still susceptible to a well-sharpened blade.
Weak for a war against man, invaluable against all manner of beasts and sorcery.
Anise suspected I was a believer, and at the time I’d thought her sole intent was to frighten me, much the way Linus had during my youth.
But I wasn’t a true believer, not really. At least, not anymore. Believing in the horrors of the Threshold had only served to heighten my fear of it, so I decided long ago to cast those childish ideas aside, if only to disarm Linus of yet another reason to torment me.
Nevertheless, as I breathed in the grounding scent of warm forest wind and watched the Sentinels make their way east, closer and closer to the fog that had haunted so many of my dreams, I could feel the fissures in my resolve growing.
What if it were all true? Would I even want to know?
Before I could reckon with what I was doing—and with near-complete disregard for the fear that had strangled me only moments prior—I found myself descending the ironbark tree with quickened pace.
I may not have been capable of ambushing Anise, but I was more than capable of stalking two unsuspecting Sentinels towards the Threshold.
What did they know that we didn’t? What were they going to do with the crosser, should they find him?
And perhaps most importantly, what had them frightened enough to be fitted with onyxium?
I landed soundlessly on the forest floor, crouching straightaway and relying on the shadows of the brush to conceal any trace of my presence.
I held my palm to my heart before presenting it to the sky, a grateful prayer that I’d managed to safely dismount that star-forsaken tree.
The ground felt divine beneath my feet as I pressed forward, my attention never diverting from the Sentinels I followed.
It wasn’t the first time my curiosity had gotten the better of me, and as the healed wounds on my back prickled with warning, I doubted it would be the last.