Chapter Twenty-One #2
I can see in his face he is worried; I am too. “I don’t think he will,” I say, biting my lip, not sure I believe what I’m saying, I doubt Myles will either. “You should stay. You’re happy here, you shouldn’t have to uproot your life for me. Again.”
“You can’t go alone.” He rubs his newly stubbled jaw. “If we have to leave, we will. Both of us. I promised your mum I would look after you, and that’s what I’ll do.”
I mull over his words. He’s right, going alone would be a terrible idea, not only because I can barely protect myself, but I’d get lost in a heartbeat. But there’s a sadness behind his stern words. Regret of leaving yet another home because of me.
“Okay,” I say. Giving him a small smile. “We still need to hunt through Dad’s box anyway for the information on the priest. Then we can figure out where we’re going.”
Myles takes my hand in his, kissing my knuckles. “Let’s get going then.”
The contents of the box are scattered across the floor, every inch shrouded in scrap paper, news clippings, and Dad’s notes.
Yet, we’re still to find anything of use.
A name, a place, something to help us figure out our next move.
The quicker we find this, the sooner we can start gathering supplies, making sure we have what we need to survive the cold winter that’s rearing its ugly head.
“It’s useless, there’s nothing here.” I throw my hands up in the air.
“There has to be something we’re missing,” Myles says, running his hands through his hair before continuing to rummage through the newspaper clippings.
I sit with my head in my hands, rocking back and forth.
A silent ringing in my head resonates into my ears, becoming all I can hear.
The tension of these few weeks is always just lingering on the surface.
No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to shake these apprehensive feelings that threaten to suffocate me, incapacitating me. That feeling like I’m walking on thin ice, waiting for the inevitable crack, plunging me into frozen water.
Outside, there’s faint chatter which sets my teeth on edge. I jump out of my skin with a loud crash from outside the window, accidentally kicking over the wooden box. It crashes and slides along the floor, breaking open.
My stomach sinks, I know the time and dedication Dad always put into his work. I imagine he spent more on this one for me. Tugging my hair with my hands, I walk over to it, carefully picking it up in its fragile state.
Under the lid, a piece of wood has shifted, revealing a secret compartment.
“What the...” I say, cradling the box in my arms. “Look what I found hidden under the lid.”
Lowering myself to the floor, sitting cross-legged amongst the littered paper that crinkles under my feet, I gently lay the box down, trying to coax out the loose piece of wood.
I sit discouraged at its unwillingness to come apart.
Myles finds a knife and carefully buckles it, flipping the panel open.
A neatly folded piece of paper flies across the floor.
This is what we’ve been looking for, I know it.
Why hide it, though Dad? Was it for a last resort?
Maybe he didn’t trust the person in question.
I wish I could talk to him instead of reading notes left behind for me to decipher.
My legs wobble under me as I stumble over towards the dispersed paper.
Unfolding it gently, there in Dad’s careful cursive lettering is: ‘The temple of Sanvi.’
I stare at the words. This tiny scrap of paper holds the key to my survival, my freedom.
The key to learning who I am and what I can do.
A mixture of excitement and anxiety runs through me simultaneously, and I bite my lip, trying to ground myself.
All we need to do now is find our way to Yiren, preferably before the worst of the winter hits.
“Your hands are shaking.” Myles eases the paper from my hands and scrutinises it. “The priest's name is Calum? Not very priest-like,” he chuckles.
“What constitutes a priest's name?” I ask, stifling my laugh. Myles flusters, spouting random sounds out.
“Va – Uln – Ter -” My body twitches, I can’t hold my laugh in any longer. “Okay, maybe Calum’s fine.” I give him an encouraging smile and pat him on the back.
“Come on, we don’t want to miss this festival.”
Myles and I walk hand in hand, squeezing through the loitering crowd as they linger around the variety of stalls from neighbouring villages.
The baked goods smell amazing: hot sticky buns, honey cakes, apple pies, and blackcurrant rolls.
My stomach rumbles at the intoxicating smell, drawing me in until Kali comes up behind me, looping my arm, dragging me towards the bonfire.
“Make a wish,” she says, handing us each a star made from twigs and twine. “It’s a tradition from my home, one that the people here have assimilated. The star symbolises hope. By setting it alight, we ask the fire goddess for her blessing so that our wishes may come true.”
“The fire goddess? I’ve never heard of one?” I ask, examining the star. Twigs are bent, moulded into place by sturdy twine, tied tight to hold them together. Intricate work. The star is delicate yet strong.
“Eithne. In Vayross, we celebrate many gods for: water, earth, wind, death, life, the list is endless. Eithne is the goddess of fire.”
She holds the star up to her forehead, closing her eyes, placing a kiss on it before tossing it into the fire.
A gesture that I had never seen before, elves truly were beautiful creatures.
I copy what Kali did and throw my star into the fire.
Sparks fly from the star as it sizzles beneath the flames.
I watch in awe as the twig and twine are engulfed in flames, blue blending into red.
I wonder if I’ll find out if Eithne has blessed my star. Myles copies us both, taking his time with his wish before tossing it into the fire with his eyes remaining closed. He gives us a passing smile as he heads to the drinks stall.
I stay, absorbing the elating ambience of folk frolicking around the bonfire, merrily singing along to the melody of the lutes, children run around with flaming sticks; waving them, making shapes in the sky.
My eyes widen, and I spin to face Kali, she rolls her eyes, answering the question imprinted on my face.
“They’re enchanted. Do you think we’re that stupid to give children actual fire?” She laughs, walking away to the drinks stall, stealing a drink from Myles.
I explore the event. Everyone is jolly, praising and toasting each other on a great crop this year.
Despite the heavy rains in spring, it appears the town was blessed with a good yield.
Folk pat each other on the back, joking and laughing, spinning each other around, dancing along to the band playing in the corner.
Megan and Eliza run into me, jerking my arm towards the band. I pause, unaware of the dance steps but happy to let the girls lead. Drums, windpipes, and lutes create lively, upbeat tunes, and the girls spin me in circles until I’m woozy.
When the song ends, I curtsy unsteadily to the girls who quickly run off, stalking another unwitting person to drag over the dance floor.
I stumble over to Myles, who is waiting with a drink in hand.
Stealing it from him, I gulp down the contents, my face screws up when a burning sensation claws its way down my throat.
“What is that?” I choke out, reaching for a glass of wine from the stall, gulping it hurriedly down to replace the sour burn in my mouth.
“It’s called ‘Spider’s venom’, it’s a bitter liqueur. Has a kick to it, don’t you think?” he replies, nodding to the barman.
My eyes widen in surprise at the extent of the drink variations on the table. Wine and ale being the most common and popular, there’s a large selection of different concoctions.
Varying in a multitude of colours, a purple twisted glass that glimmers as it swirls, called ‘Witches Mist,’ a red and blue goblet named ‘Dwarves Chaos,’ and then a green highball glass with black swirls that bubbles, labelled ‘Spider’s Venom.
’ Why Myles went for the drink that visibly looks the most disgusting is beyond me. I will happily stick with my wine.
The night slips away. I revel in watching Kali dancing with the children. Her arms swaying above her head as she spins in circles, the children love watching and copying the elf’s graceful dance moves.
Myles bows his head and holds out his hand, curtsying.
I gladly take it. He leads me onto the dance floor, spinning me around to a peculiar tune, unlike anything I have heard back home.
The music comes to a halt, and I’m still gripping Myles, waiting for the dizziness to stop.
I can’t remember the last time I laughed so much.
I feel lighter, a million miles away from my problems. From Zury, the guards, stress.
Staggering off the dance area, I am shocked to see the Governor at the festival, doubting he has made an appearance at the last few.
He grimaces while taking counsel with the local elders, men and women who take it upon themselves to keep an eye on the state of the town.
Presumably enlightening him in all the ways the town could be improved, given his absence.
Catching my eye, he raises his glass and bows his head to me. I return the gesture, happy to see he has cleaned up. Looking the part of his position, with fresh clothes, his beard neatly trimmed, and his hair tied back. Though the fatigue on his face will never vanish.
The governor’s eyes widen as he hurries over to me, grabbing me by the arm. “You need to leave. Now.”