Chapter Fourteen Kian #2
Then I also feel something sharp dig into my calf, puncturing the skin and sliding down the muscle. It feels like a small knife. What is happening? Does the matching hut have some sort of strange border around it that attacks intruders’ legs?
I can hear the swish of Aunt Ujvala’s cane. It collides with something. There’s a high-pitched squeal and shuffling. “We need that light!”
If only I had Ulric’s magic. I close my eyes and concentrate, willing the wick to catch with Ivo’s next attempt. It does. We gasp in unison as a small pool of light illuminates what’s been attacking us.
Amongst a landscape of little hills, there are approximately fifty jackalopes shuffling back and forth in front of us, their noses pointed toward the earth so their antlers are aimed at us. A couple of them drip blood from the sharp tips.
Compared to Ivo, whose leg is bleeding profusely from multiple wounds, Aunt Ujvala and I have minor scratches.
“I don’t think you were tripped by a stick,” I point out.
“Thank you for that brilliant observation,” Aunt Ujvala says.
Ivo swings the lantern back and forth, as if it’s a weapon to keep the jackalopes away. And honestly, it kind of is. They seem to dislike the light, hopping away when it gets too near.
I move toward the matching hut. It’s so close now, only thirty or so feet away. But the moment I start to step out of the light, the jackalopes begin to scratch the earth and chatter their teeth, like excited cats watching birds and dreaming of murder.
“They dislike the lantern. When we get to the matching hut, we’ll tend our cuts.
There are all sorts of herbs and supplies.
Then we can figure out…” I trail off. Aunt Ujvala has already half turned around and started back toward the forest. She stops.
Hope blooms. She’ll agree. She won’t just leave me here to figure it all out on my own. “We’re so close.”
Then Ivo wobbles on his feet. The little light bobs and sways.
He’s pale, either from blood loss or distress.
I see the moment Aunt Ujvala makes her final decision.
She moves over to him and puts her shoulder under Ivo’s armpit, and they begin hobbling away.
Away from the matching hut, away from me.
I’m frozen. I want to continue on with my ill-formed plan. I want to see them to safety. I can’t seem to get my feet to move.
Aunt Ujvala and Ivo don’t have the same issue. They ascend the small crest of a hill. The moment the light swings away from me, the jackalopes swarm. One tries to bite me, and I kick it, hard, flinging it across the grasses. This doesn’t dissuade the others, who still try to attack.
My body decides for me. I run toward the light.
We reach a small rolling hill, which would be nothing physically strenuous normally, but Ivo is flagging and Aunt Ujvala is not a young woman. I go over and scoot under his other arm. He’s nearly limp.
The moment we’re at the top, the jackalopes stop following.
Relieved, we slow our pace, and manage to get back to the forest. The sky has cleared, and above the nearby treetops of the forest, stars glisten. Somewhere far off, we hear a dragon’s call, but it is soft, a safe distance away.
At the tree line, Aunt Ujvala pauses. “I’m sorry,” she says softly.
“Me, too.”
“You should go back in case you’re missed by your matcher or your friend.” She places a warm hand on my cheek. “Be safe, my love. Come home when you can.”
I nod, but can’t find any words to respond as she turns and disappears with Ivo into the trees.
I am all alone, but I will not give up. I will still get to the matching hut. I will still destroy the skulls.
But first, I will sleep.
I don’t sleep. Instead of heading down the hallway where the novitiates’ guest rooms are, I turn toward the library again.
If I’m going to get to the matching hut, I’m going to need to get past the jackalopes.
And if I’m going to get past the territorial little fuckers, I’m going to need to know more about the little beasts than what magic their skulls are capable of imbuing after death.
Easier now, when Cecelia is no doubt in bed.
Unfortunately, the library is locked and I don’t have any tools with me to pick it. At least, not with any kind of subtly. With a sigh, I start back to bed.
I’m crossing through the main room when I hear voices coming from the direction of the kitchens.
I creep closer. It’s too late for the keepers who clean up after dinner and too early yet for the bakers.
I stick to the shadows and lean around the corner.
There sits Cecelia and Adela, sitting in front of a fire in some sort of nook off the kitchens.
They’re deep in conversation; a serious one by the look of it.
I hear Cecelia blurt, “Will you go with them?” She mashes the question all together, as if it’s one singular word instead of a whole sentence.
“I’m scared it’s inevitable,” Adela replies. She faces away from me and speaks softly. She’s hard to hear. “I can’t be a matcher with a skull on my face.”
“Have you been back to the matching hut?” Cecelia quirks her head, her curiosity plain even from a distance.
I’m also curious. I listen closely to her response, wondering if there’s some way I could convince Adela to take me with her when she returns. Then I scoff at myself. As if that would work. I’d have to, what, steal the skulls from under her nose? And still have no way to destroy them.
She either doesn’t respond, or I don’t hear what she says.
“Until you try to commune with the skulls, you won’t know your capabilities.
If you could still match, I think the elders would insist you stay.
But are you sure you don’t want to go?” Cecelia sits forward and the firelight illuminates her, bringing out the auburn strands of her deep-brown hair and the faint lines of worry in her brow.
“You never wanted to be a matcher, and this could be your out. Plus, your chemistry with Kian is exceptional.”
Indeed it is.
“I wouldn’t leave the valley for a man I had sex with once.”
Thank the Huntress.
Cecelia waves away the comment. “Of course not, it’s just a perk.
You’ve always been intrigued by Insborough.
Don’t you remember when you were a little girl, how excited you were when goods from the outside came in?
Until…” She trails off, and I wish she would finish the thought.
What changed for Adela that she stopped loving the outside world?
Instead, she says, “I think there’s a part of you that wants to go, and you’re allowed to want a different life than what was chosen for you. ”
I barely hear Adela’s reply. “I’m afraid.” Adela pulls her legs up onto her chair, shrinking her shoulders down, making herself as small as possible. “I don’t trust that part of myself. That is curious about what life would be like, outside the valley. In the order. With—”
I should step forward, interrupt. I shouldn’t be eavesdropping on this. It’s obviously difficult for both of them, and honestly, I’m terrified, too. Of what comes after that “with.”
“You should trust all of yourself.” Cecelia takes Adela’s hands, and squeezes. “Sure, sometimes you get snippy or flaky or make mistakes, but who doesn’t? You are fundamentally good.”
“Am I? Sometimes I just want to break shit.” She looks so uncomfortable, admitting that she’s human.
Cecelia laughs so hard she snorts. Adela’s shoulders and head come up. She playfully swats at her friend. Between gulps of air, breathless from her laughter, Cecelia says, “And?”
“And that makes me a horrible person!” But Adela’s voice has grown more confident with her friends’ amusement. Her smile can be heard in her tone.
“It absolutely does not! It just makes you a person. Everyone wants to just break shit sometimes. You’re still allowed to have a life that you love. Even if it’s not the one everyone else says you should want.”
From there, they change to more mundane topics—worries about the late spring, a bit of gossip about one of the keeper couples who’s expecting a new little one, some back-and-forth with how Beadda is doing with all of the sudden changes.
I should go to bed. Go sleep off my disappointment and abandonment and just plain old weariness. If I can’t learn more about the jackalopes and how to get to the matching hut tonight, I should just sink into the cozy keeper quilts and say goodbye to the day.
Instead, I silently back up a dozen paces and then practically stomp forward, so they’ll hear my footfalls and not suspect me for the eavesdropper I am. I come around the corner and feign surprise at finding them.
“Oh, hello,” I say, hoping to hit just the right note of delight.
Their surprise is genuine. They talk over one another greeting me.
“What are you—”
“Oh, Kian—”
“You should be—”
Adela gestures to Cecelia to go first.
“You’re not wearing your phoenix,” Cecelia points out.
I look at it hooked to my belt. “So I’m not.” I leave it there, and she doesn’t press.
I turn to Adela. “Uh… hi. Hi,” she says.
“Hi,” I reply, loving the color that spreads up her neck, the same shade she flushed when she orgasmed on me in the pantry. I imagine turning her whole body that shade of pink from pleasure. The last time we saw each other, Cecelia told us we needed to do more of that—bring each other pleasure.
And I want to. Oh, I want to.
But I can’t. Not yet. I have to focus on my whole reason for being in the order to begin with.
They don’t ask me to join them, but I’ve never needed an invitation to insert myself where I’m not exactly wanted. I pull a stool over, practically wedging myself between them. “I hate to interrupt, but I couldn’t sleep. I went to the library but it was locked up for the night.”
“Oh, I can let you in.” Cecelia stands up and begins to move toward the library. Up close, she looks rough. Clumps of hair stick out from her bun, her eyes are red, and her clothing is rumpled as if she hasn’t left the great hall for days. She probably hasn’t.
“No, no, sit back down,” I reply, smile firmly in place. She does, almost instantly. “I’d like to learn more about the different creatures in the valley and what they’re like. No need for books, when I have two experts who can just tell me.”
Adela rolls her eyes, and she’s not wrong. I went a bit heavy on the charm, there. But the sentiment is genuine. I’d much rather them summarize what I need to know about the jackalope than spend hours pouring over books. I’d just as likely come away with none of the information I need.
Cecelia gives me a look I don’t quite recognize. “So you’re not looking for ways to send skulls to their rest any longer? Because the only way I know to do that is dragon fire.”
The valley researcher is too smart by half.
Or I am too dumb. Of course she would notice what books and scrolls I had picked up previously and connect what I was trying to do.
But she doesn’t seem suspicious, only mildly intrigued.
I find myself really enjoying my time with her.
Something about her calm curiosity reminds me of my mom, I think.
But she’s difficult to read. Polite to a fault and kind, but ever so slightly angry.
Probably because I screwed up her friend’s future.
“I assume you wanted to help Adela rid herself of the skull. I’ve been looking for the same.”
“You do?” Adela asks and sits forward slightly, leaning toward me. There’s a gentle note of hope in her voice, and something inside my chest tightens in reply.
I stumble over my words. “Right. I do. Did.” I don’t know the right answer, and I’m unsure of how to navigate these women.
My usual tactics, to be confident and beguiling, don’t seem terribly effective on either of them, and I don’t have a whole lot of other talents to pull from.
“If that’s what you want, I want to help. ”
The women share a look and I realize I’ve just made a major misstep in gaining their trust. This is what they were just talking about. What Adela wants. But if they suspect me of listening in, they don’t say so. Instead, Adela sits back, as if relieved.
“I’ll tell you about whatever creatures you’d like,” Cecelia replies. “On one simple condition.”
Warning tingles shoot through me. Favors are rarely simple, but I push aside the reaction. She’s not going to ask me to fight a dragon. Whatever it is, I can navigate it. “What’s the condition?”
She looks at Adela with a raised chin and crosses her arms. Whatever she’s about to say, she believes her friend is going to hate it.
“Take care of her. If she goes with you, and I think she will.” She speaks quickly, not giving any space to Adela to speak up herself.
Not that Adela could. She’s too busy gaping.
“If she is threatened or if she needs help to escape, help get her out. Bring her home.”
“Cecelia!” Adela objects.
“Agreed,” I say with absolutely no hesitation, and push aside the feelings of protectiveness and nurture that pop up when I think of her. I want to care for Adela. I shiver at the realization.
With a nod, Cecelia sits back, her relief palpable. “Perfect. Thank you. Now which creatures would you like to know about specifically?”
“All of them,” I reply as if I’m just so interested about magic and the valley that I want to soak it all up. I pretend to think carefully. “Let’s start with jackalopes.”