Chapter 38
thirty-eight
. . .
Ever
Iexpect the night to return to day after our little conversation, but we are left in the dark.
I step off the stone and look around for the Maker.
“Ever?” Lyle rushes to me. “Are you okay? What happened?”
My head swims with information, but more than that, the well at the centre of my chest feels… the rubble of stone now whole. I look down and grab the spot where my necklace should be, but my hand comes up empty.
I look up at Lyle, then spy Kalan stalking us.
“I thought I’d get my necklace back, I…” My forefinger rubs over the scar at my throat, but then I notice how warm the ring on my finger is, how the colours, even in the dark, seem to sparkle as if there is a never-ending depth to their colour.
“Why is it night, Ever?” Lyle asks.
“I think it’s because I needed to speak to Aslendrix.”
“Our Goddess?” She gasps.
“Yes. We had a little chat. She restored my magic. Well, her side of it.” I search for the threads of gold that signal Novandia’s power, and Aslendrix’s explanation about how they repel against her magic.
Understanding the balance and differences within their magic, and what I’m capable of with both, is still new.
I look at Kalan.
“What now?” he asks.
“Fancy taking us through the forest again?”
“It’s night now. It’s not a safe place after dark,” Kalan states.
“But you’re a Shepherd?”
“It’s been a very long time, Ever. I don’t even know—”
“They recognised me because of the brooch and its connection with you after all these years. We’ll be safe. And if not, well, I guess I’d better figure out how to use my magic again.”
“Ten?” I shout his name inside my head as loudly as I can, and no sooner than I think of him, a quiver along one of the streams of energy vibrates, as if singing a happy tune.
“Ever? What happened? Why is it night? Are you okay? Was that you?”
I can feel his relief at hearing from me, and that our connection is renewed and works like it once did, shimmering along the thread between us. “I’m fine. I promise. Just a little conversation with a Goddess.”
“Stars above.”
“You’re still safe? Calix’s dad didn’t put you in chains?”
“Well, he kinda did, but it’s all fine. We’ll come to you. Where are you?”
“Meet us at the training residence?”
“Why there?”
“Because… I can’t think of anywhere safer, at least for now. Kyra’s with her family, and you and Lyle can’t just be walking around. It’s too risky.”
“Rowan’s in charge.”
“Then we’ll have to remove him from his post.”
“Okay, Little Siren. Be safe.”
Walking through the forest at night is a very different prospect than when the sun is shining overhead, and while I might have been confident that nothing bad would happen in here, the further we crept, the more doubt clouded around me like the very air could smell the spike of fear in my blood and was excited by the prospect.
“Stay close. Both of you. And step where I step. Nowhere else,” Kalan instructs.
I nod, as if he can see me in the pitch, and will my eyes to adjust.
“Lyle?” I call.
“I’m fine. We’ll be through in no time.” Her voice is surprisingly optimistic despite the surroundings.
You return… she returns.
That eerie voice on the breeze rings like a chime, and a small part of me is glad I can hear it again. The majesty here is still present, still thrumming, and I choose to see that as a good sign. Not a bad one.
“Kalan?”
“I heard. Keep going. We’ve got a way to go.”
“Guess where I am?” I think about the words and pull on the strand of energy that connects me to Ten. The teasing brings a smile to my lips despite the darkness.
“Where?”
“The forest. I can’t believe you spent a night here.”
“Why are you in the forest? It’s not safe.” His worry only makes my smile grow wider.
“Kalan is with me. And at least it means we won’t meet anyone.”
“Ever, you know what lurks in the forest at night. Please, please be careful. I’ve only just got you back.”
“I promise.”
But as if tempting fate, a deep rumble, like a vibration, sounds around us.
The noise stops Kalan in his tracks, and I nearly stumble into him.
“Stop!” he commands.
All we hear is that rumbling noise, no, a growl. Getting louder. Fiercer.
“We’re not too deep into the forest. We’ll be fine,” I whisper-shout to Lyle, while cursing my confidence.
“You think you can outrun a Jarkoreth? The minute you run, they’ll chase, and they won’t wait to distinguish friend or foe,” Kalan chastises me.
I think back to what the one I encountered said—that his brothers wouldn’t wait to hear my reason or intent, but that doesn’t apply to Kalan, surely. He’s a Shepherd.
“So we stay still? Can you talk it down? The forest knows we mean no harm, right?”
The growl turns to a snarl, and it conjures the memory of the Jarkoreth’s huge maw, hunched back, and talons.
Thundering footsteps beat a terrifying rhythm as I translate the sound into a vision in the dark.
“No. We mean no harm.” Kalan’s voice is sure and loud, rivalling that of the Jarkoreth’s snarl.
A deafening roar shakes the leaves around us, and I fight the instinct to cower.
Suddenly, I’m back in the woods in Nehandun, walking through the darkness before I see Fenix through the trees.
Shadows and darkness play tricks on my vision, and it’s only Lyle next to me that stops me from casting out a ribbon of darkness to hide us—to hide from Fenix.
Breathe. He’s not here.
Lyle is my lifeline, and I concentrate on her, on this moment, and not on what happened in that wood.
I reach, fumbling through the darkness until my fingers clamp around her hand.
I imagine the light, her magic, which she used to protect me with, and as if answering my call, a trickle of energy wraps around my wrist where we’re connected, and a hum of magic travels through me.
A ball of glowing light appears in my free hand, illuminating the dark.
But my gratitude is short-lived.
A few feet in front of us, Kalan stands, his arm outstretched in front of a huge monster, all sharp points and menace.
This beast is similar to the Jarkoreth I raised from the ground. I can see the familiar hump of the back, but it’s much, much bigger. The jaws that were terrifying before are deadly, with huge teeth that promise only death.
With everything in me, I focus on staying calm, and I urge my magic to stay calm and not riot or betray me and cause panic.
“You are… new. You are… different.” Its voice echoes around the trees as it turns its gaze on me. Two moonlight eyes stare right at me, as if reading my intent.
“I am a Fifth. Aslendrix has blessed me with her magic. I mean you no harm.” My voice quivers as I focus on the words, as I urge the creature to believe me.
“We hear. We listen. Unrest follows you.” The condemnation is thick in the air, as if every living thing in the forest hears and now waits for my answer.
“She means no harm. We only want safe passage.” Kalan draws its attention.
“A steep price, Shepherd,” it drawls. “You have been gone an age.”
“Maybe. But my oath still stands.” He flexes his palm, and again, it reminds me of what I did with the Jarkoreth at the trial. I held my hand out and let it sense me.
Only this one looks far more deadly, if that were possible.
“Ever, I don’t like this,” Lyle whispers.
“Kalan’s got this.” I squeeze her hand, and the beacon of light in my other palm glows a little harder.
The Jarkoreth steps closer, the weight of his clawed foot shuddering the ground around us. The creature I disturbed from its rest was wounded, decaying, and had to claw itself toward me with its arm. I don’t know which is worse.
It breathes in, rustling everything around us, before sending up another cry.
“We will pass,” Kalan states.
“Wait,” I step forward. “Your brother. I raised him from the ground. I meant him no harm, even though I woke him,” I can’t think of a politer way to put it, and the word death isn’t going to pass my lips in this situation.
“He protected me. Would that be the same for you? Would you protect a Fifth?” I ask, swallowing the fear and clinging to Lyle’s hand like the lifeline it is.
“Protect?” The Jarkoreth questions. “Why?” It lowers its jaw and snarls at me, inching closer.
“War is coming,” I say.
“Hmm. We sense a shift in the balance.”
“I want to know if you’d take a side in the fight. Would you fight for Aslendrix?” I answer.
“We are protectors of the forest.” The voice rings loudly around us.
“But will you fight?” I push, ready to force an answer.
“Leave.” It growls, and the wind howls in agreement, as if the question has angered the trees, too. “Leave!” It roars.
My heart freezes, as does the rest of my body, as I stand in its path.
“Time to go.” Kalan turns and heads towards the edge of the forest. Lyle’s hand tugs on mine, and we follow, moving as quickly as we can. The glowing ball in my palm still lighting our path.
Leave. Leave, do not come back… You will do harm.
It seems the trees are cross.
“Kalan?”
“I heard.”
As soon as we can see the edge of the trees, we slow our retreat, keeping to the shadows. I flick my hand, releasing the light’s glow, and it extinguishes.
“What was that about?” Lyle questions.
I catch the slight shake of Kalan’s head before he takes off. “We’ll explain later. Come on.”
We follow Kalan, only just able to keep up, and I have to relinquish Lyle’s hand as we race, silently, towards the training residence.
I hadn’t been a resident for long enough to have explored all the ways to approach the resident building, but maybe the fear of the forest kept all the trainees from exploring this one.
As we come to the familiar curved building, we see the wall of Warrior camps just beyond the training rings, but there is nobody protecting the residence. At least, not from us.
“What did Aslendrix tell you?” Lyle asks. We’ve been quiet since the Jarkoreth, and I’ve been happy to gather my nerves.
“She gave me my power back.” My easy words hide the enormity of them.
“I thought… your magic was coming back? I saw it at the table. You made us invisible.”
“It’s… complicated.” How do I explain that my magic now belongs to both Novandia and Aslendrix, and that there is a tug of war between the energy flowing within me, wrestling for dominance?
We keep to the shadows and sneak in through the main residence door. Ten and Calix should already be here. I hope.
“Ten?”
“Food hall.”
“Any problems?”
“Not so far. You?”
“I’ll explain in a minute.”
We follow the curve of the hall, eager to reach them, but run right into the one trainee I’d rather not have to face.
Ascella turns to us, and her face contorts into an ugly sneer as she recognises me.
“You!” she snaps.
The last time I saw her, she was covered in blood after being mauled by the Jarkoreth.
“You nearly killed me,” she screeches.
She’s in my face before I can blink, raising her arm, ready to bring a blade slashing down across my body. I jump back, my heart racing in my chest. Ascella brings her arm back up, aiming for me again, as if she’s trying to cause me the most damage possible.
It’s all so fast. Out of nowhere.
But she doesn’t know what I’ve had to endure these last few weeks just to be standing here. She wasn’t forced to defend every advance, every thrust and parry from Ten, mindlessly coming for me, in an attempt to make me a better fighter.
I am a better fighter.
And against her attack, I’m not afraid to use my power.
I plant my feet and wait for her next strike. It comes quickly, her speed giving her a clear advantage, a blur of movement of her slender arms. But as she lunges forward, making up the distance she’s missed me by so far, I set my magic free.
Her blade skims off the boundary now protecting me, just like when Crimson attacked me during training with Calix and Ten.
Only I no longer need to have any contact with them to draw on the magic and will it into action.
There’s a gentle hum as the warmth of the energy wraps around me.
I can feel it. It feels like it’s a part of me again, like whatever Aslendrix granted back has grounded me.
Ascella’s face morphs with confusion, but it doesn’t lessen her attack. Over and over again, she brings her arm and blade down, as if she were aiming to do the same damage to me that the Jarkoreth did to her.
“Stop, Ascella. You can’t hurt me.”
“I am a Warrior. You think we back down from a fight?”
“I know you don’t. But this one you can’t win. Drop the knife.”
“Come out from your little forcefield, and we’ll see how good you are,” she taunts.
“That’s enough!” Kalan barks.
She pauses and looks at him, then to Lyle, as if she’s only now clocking who’s with me.
“You have no business here.”
Ascella keeps her guard up, her blade in hand, but her screams have drawn attention, and I look to see Calix and Ten behind her, drawn from the food hall.
“Put it down, Ascella,” Calix lays out the command.
She turns and realises she’s surrounded.
“You’re back? Where’s Crim?”
I watch the question as if it hits Calix like a physical punch to his gut.
“Put the knife down, Ascella.” Ten steps in.
“Where’s Crim? Calix would never be without her. So, where is she?”
Ascella looks around at all of us, seeing the grim and sad expressions we can’t hide. Not from her. Not from anyone.
“Put the knife down, Warrior.”
I take my eyes from Ascella to see the man I recognise from the Great Hall at the feast. Calix and Crimson’s father steps into view. His words—his command—leave no question. He’s issuing a direct order to a Warrior trainee.
Her braid swings over her shoulder with the force she whips her head around, only to come face to face with him.
“General Aster?” she questions, but her stance shifts, her attack paused. “I don’t—”
“You will be confined to quarters. Attacking another trainee is a serious offence.”
Ascella looks back at me, then to Calix’s father. “You’re taking her side? After everything she’s done?”
“This isn’t about sides. I’ll escort you. Personally.” He steps back a fraction, giving her the opportunity, and, to my surprise, she walks the few paces to her door.