10. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
Embla
“Papa! Astrid!” I squeal, kicking up dirt behind me as I sprint down the path from Lumin’s manor to the road ready to embrace them. I barely wait for Papa to dismount before I throw my arms around his neck. I thought they would be gone longer but thank Malia they’ve returned. I don’t know how much more I could handle my thoughts alone. A smile stretches across Papa’s face when he lets go, and then I'm crushing Astrid against me as I inhale her scent that smells so much like the night air.
“How’d it go?” I ask, leaning away from her, holding her at arm's length so I can look her over. Astrid’s cool blue eyes meet mine, and I tug on the black tangled mess she calls hair. That’s what she gets for riding with it down. Disappointment floods Astrid’s eyes, but she tries to mask it behind her smile.
“The master physicians are running errands, but the King said he would send his personal physician when we pay the tithe.” Ash’s head droops a little as I step back.
“So, no master physician to save us. How does he expect to pay the tithe without curing this illness?” I demand and Ash only offers a shrug.
“I’m sure there’s another way. We’re not risking your life, Em,” Ash’s voice raises slightly as she panics. “M—maybe a merchant knows of medicine, o—or a plant, Hel, I’d even use magic if that’s what it takes,” she lowers her voice at the word magic and fear crawls across my heart. Magic will only lead to more trouble, there’s a reason it is banned from the city.
“Don’t say such things. You know Malia would disapprove, even if it’s a joke,” I hiss quickly before ushering my sister inside while Papa tends to the Sprites.
“While you and Papa were gone, I planned the entire festival.” I wave my arms as if in some grand reveal as we step through the door. Astrid looks around, surprise written across her face as she notices the sunflowers and roses that make up the garlands and centerpieces that decorate the home. They move outward to the rest of the district in preparation for the coming event. The house smells of roses and lavender as I clear off the table, Papa and Astrid taking their seats.
“How are we going to help our people now? We have less than a month before the tithe is due.” Astrid groans as she rests her forehead against the table. Papa's going to make it all fine, it'll be okay.
“The closest city to us that might have a master healer is Xiah, but that’s not a place you would want to visit. Full of outlaws, thieves, and murderers. The city is lawless– has been for years.” Papa shakes his head, moving to rub his temples with his fingers.
“So, we’re for sure going to use the festival to get out of the city?” Ash asks, and Papa strokes his beard.
“From where I sit, it’s the only option we have left. We won’t make the tithe without a healer who knows more than the instructors and the students. To stay would be to risk Embla’s life.” Too fast. It’s moving too fast. They’re going to make me leave the only home I’ve ever known. While some awful things have happened here, all I see when I look at this house is Mama. The love she put into it, the love she wanted to raise us in before she left us too early. Maybe I should stay and join her. Maybe being sacrificed is the easiest thing to do for my family.
“The gate will be open during the hunt. If I come back early, we could try to escape while the hunters are still occupied,” Astrid offers up the plan, and Papa nods. There must be another option other than leaving everything behind.
“Stop,” I whisper, and Astrid turns a curious stare in my direction. “Stop. No. I can’t leave. My life is here. We can’t just leave Mama behind and it’s not as simple as taking her with us. Who would remember her without us here?” She’s the only one of our family who can’t come. She’s the only one who would be left behind.
“Em,” Papa’s voice is soft as he scoots his chair closer to mine. He gently takes my hand in his and looks at it for a long time before he turns his eyes back to me. “She’s gone. All that's left of her is dust and bones, but we’re here. You’re here. We can’t let you become that when you have so much left to experience,” Papa says, gently stroking his fingers over my hand. “We have to help our people, if we don’t, who will?”
The thought of leaving Mama behind is excruciating. I can’t just stop because she’s gone, can I? I know there are others who need me, but maybe he’s right. I swipe the back of my hand across my cheek, wiping away the tears before nodding in agreement. Soon, we will leave Demendia.
“Pack your bags , ” Papa says. “I’ll stow them in the morning, somewhere at the festival. Be ready to run. When Astrid returns from the hunt it’ll be time for us to go.” He dismisses us. Unease slithers through my stomach as I follow Astrid to our shared room. We’re preparing for something I never thought would happen. Sure, we talked about it in the past, but I never thought this would be where we ended up. A homesickness for times that were easier settles within me.
The familiar bare wood walls of our bedroom close in on me as I move around the room. I fill my blue embroidered bag with my favorite dresses while Ash pulls out her black canvas bag and shoves every pair of pants she has into it, including ones she pulls from a paper shopping bag.
“I got this for you.” She offers a folded bit of fabric. On closer inspection, it is a finely made gold and pink corset. The color reminds me of a sunset. I have a purple-to-pink ombre skirt that would match even the deep violet ribbon pulling the corset closed in the front.
“It’s beautiful.” I delicately take the garment and finger the smooth satin ribbon. “You got this for me?” I ask. I can’t believe she would think of me like that. I wanted a new outfit to wear, but I didn’t have the time to find one or even sew it myself.
“I’m glad you like it; I thought it was something that screamed your name.” Astrid gives me a brilliant smile before it falters. I know the feeling. It is strange to find happiness when there is so much grief surrounding us.
“I’m going to wear it to the festival,” I say, decidedly pulling out the skirt that I was thinking of, and a smile curls across my cheeks when it matches perfectly. I hang the outfit together on the outside of the closet before turning to lay a hand on Astrid’s shoulder. “Everything is going to be okay. We’re going to figure it out.” I wrap my arms around my sister and give her middle a squeeze.
“We can’t fail, Em,” Ash’s voice shakes as she pulls my arms from around her waist bringing me to face her. “All these people are at risk if we fail, and if we are caught, it won’t matter if we are the Lumin’s children, they will kill us.” We’re nose to nose now, and I have to resist the urge to pull away as my mind fumbles for words.
She releases me and we finish packing in silence. I consider the life I forfeit if I leave here. There is no guarantee they will welcome us back. Not willingly, even if we have the cure to this illness. I’m sure Papa has a plan for that, too.
The door clicks shut behind her, and I climb into my bunk. I reach under my pillow for the small square I know is there. Gently, I pull the photo from its hiding place. The picture is old and fading. But, in the lightened ink I can just make out Mama’s smiling face as she holds a baby, Astrid. I smile and kiss the photo. A longing to know my mother, to know where I came from, fills me and a tear escapes my eye trailing down my cheek. She would want me to survive. She would want me to help our people. I say it in my mind like a mantra. We are doing what she would want if she were here. I stand from the bed, shoving the picture deep into my bag. I quickly zip it shut and sling it over my shoulder before following Astrid out of the room. In order to know her better, I have to live.
“Good morning, sister.”
The sunset skirt catches my sight again, swaying over my bare feet as I lay out the breakfast dishes I made early this morning. I remove the lids, whisking them back to the kitchen before I am finally able to study Astrid’s deep blue corset dress. The dress has long sleeves ending in points that stretch down the back of her hands. The bodice hugs her waist and glimmers from the silver moon lilies that are embroidered along it. Her skirt flares around her as she sits. The front of her black hair is in two braids that end in small ponytails at her crown and the rest of her hair flows wavy and free.
“You look magnificent.” I take her hand and she stands with fake annoyance, twirling with me across the dining room floor as we dance. Ash throws her head back laughing as our dance dissolves into giggles.
“Look at you, surely you’re going to break some hearts tonight.” Astrid wags her eyebrows. A laugh bubbles past my lips as I smooth my waist-length white hair with a sweep of my hand.
“If you were looking for a husband, Ash, you would definitely find one in that.” My smile stretches across my whole face as Astrid retakes her seat, loading her plate full of breakfast.
“Is Papa ready?” she asks, taking her first bite before shoveling the rest of the food into her mouth.
“He left early to make sure everything is set up the way it needs to be.” I beam when Astrid cleans her plate. I tidy up quickly and by the time I’m finished it's time to leave. I'm impatient to see my plans come together, the anticipation pricking at me.
“Ready?” Astrid pulls on her green facemask as I pull on my own matching one. Together we walk out the door. I take a deep breath nodding. I’m as ready as I will ever be to go to my first and possibly last of these.
Rose Square is the only meadow close enough to the gate that leads outside. A large mosaic of oranges and reds flare to life in the sunlight. This will be the Oracle’s last stop on her parade through the city. The square has been transformed from a single mosaic surrounded by lush meadows of green grass to what could be a very spaced-out market. Tents six-feet apart line makeshift paths that lead to a single center point. Everything is spaced out enough so you can keep your distance from the other people while still having a good time. Lights run from pole to pole, casting green mosslight over the city. The air smells of fresh baked bread and roasted meat. My bare toes curl around the grass as I take in the maypoles that line the center dance floor of the festival. A single stage stands empty right in the center of the festival, waiting for things to get started.
“This kind of thing never fails to make me feel smaller than a green-scaled mouse,” Ash whispers, and I nod in agreement at the sun sigils that decorate every available space. Sunflowers and rose garlands are thrown everywhere the eye can see, and the centerpieces are made of the same. All in tribute to Malia, in thanks for the closing season.
Butterflies invade my stomach as we enter, lights from the booths flash as the early arrivals play the games that have been set up.
“The tents have been spaced enough to allow for the institutes of health’s newest policy, and there are entrances on the other side of the festival for the other districts where they will be given facemasks color-coded with the district they’re from.” I bounce as I walk. All my frantic hard work is paying off, and a sense of pride and accomplishment overwhelms me. Not only am I attending my first Harvest Festival, but I planned it.
“What colors did you choose for the districts?”
“Lavender for the market, sky blue for residential, gold for the palace, and grass green for the farm.” We walk up to a table covered in brilliant yellow tablecloth as volunteers set out large platters for the food competition. Farmers from all over the district would be presenting pies, chili, and steaks to be tasted and judged.
“It’s perfect,” I sigh, and a proud smile creeps across my face, a giddiness bubbling in my chest.
“Astrid!” Erik calls, waving at us from across the festival before walking in our direction.
“I’ll leave you to talk to your boyfriend.” I wink as I wag my eyebrows.
“He’s not my boyfriend!” Astrid calls after me as I walk to the closest maypole. Ribbons the color of sunset hang from the pole intermingled with the flowers of the festival. The music starts from various spots throughout, coming together to play as one as the Dance of the Maiden begins. Girls rush to the maypole alongside me and as one we twirl around it, each of us holding a ribbon as they braid tightly around the pole.
The sun begins its descent, casting a warm glow that fills the city with long shadows. The music changes with the coming night, and I still find myself swaying among the dancing bodies. New matches now take the dance floor, swaying to the slowing tempo. I make my way out of the crowd, not wanting to feel lonely among the couples.
“Hey, Sunshine,” a voice rumbles behind me.
“Hey yourself,” I respond coolly, picking a drink off the tray of a passing server. I take a sip of the raspberry wine, sparkling against my tongue as I turn on my heels coming face to face with a man taller than anyone else in Demendia. His shaggy brown hair is almost black, with a full beard that busts out the sides of his mask. His chest is wide and fills out the black linen shirt nicely.
“Who are you?” I ask, my eyes drinking him in, unable to stop the exploration of his body until I meet his warm hazel gaze.
“Roan,” he says, looking uncertain if he should extend a hand to shake.
“You’re not from around here.” A statement, not a question.
“No.” He smiles. “I’m from outside the city. I was invited for the hunt,” he admits, rubbing the back of his head. I consider for a few heartbeats letting the silence drag. “Usually when someone introduces themselves, you introduce yourself back.” His eyes dip down my body. He’s enjoying the chase; I bite my lip at his inspection. It's like dancing but somehow more intimate.
“Maybe I don’t want to know you.” I shrug my shoulders, and the sparkle in his eyes dull. “Or maybe I want you to prove you’re worth it.” At that he perks up. I hate the idea of leaving the city, I haven’t known anything else my entire life. But looking at Roan, it reassures me there are not only options, but attractive options for my future outside of these walls.
“Okay, Sunshine.” He holds up his hands as if in surrender. “Would you like to dance?” He extends his hand confidently, the slow song not even halfway through. Before I can refuse, he snatches my hand with a mischevious twinkle in his eyes and pulls me onto the dance floor. He holds me flush against his chest, his arms like steel as they cage me in, surrounding me with the smell of bourbon and cedar trees.
Roan leads, taking a side-step in line, seamlessly integrating us with the other dancing couples waltzing across the floor. I feel like I could float as he brushes hair from my cheek. His touch skims down my neck to my collarbone, and my skin heats.
“You’re so beautiful,” his voice rumbles in my ear.
“You’re not too bad yourself.” My mask brushes against the shell of his ear, and I can feel the shiver run through him. Roan lifts his arm and twirls me before pulling me close again. Our eyes lock, and I want to be rid of the masks and feel his lips on mine. But there’s something off about the way he looks. It's like the air is vibrating around him like—the song and my thoughts are cut off abruptly by trumpet fanfare. The entire festival stops what they’re doing to turn and look. The Oracle's paladin chases the lithe, scantily clad bodies of her priestesses.