Chapter 10 Calluna
CALLUNA
A t a little circular table, in the center of the moss-coated Kaleed Swamp, sat Calluna. There were four chairs. Calluna sat in the northernmost, her shoulders hunched and her head hanging low.
“I should talk to them, shouldn’t I?” she asked the three occupying the other chairs.
One was a collection of twigs she’d tied with vines into the shape of a man, using dead ladybugs for eyes.
Frederick. The second was puffy and huge, made of burlap sacks sewn together and stuffed with feathers, among other things, to make it huggable.
That was Vance. The third was a frog who crouched unnaturally still in her chair. Susannah, the newest of her companions.
Susannah croaked once. Calluna frowned at her.
“But I don’t want to talk to them,” she grumbled. “They’re stubborn and foolish; the men always are.” She slumped farther. “I wish I could find Aylah. She would know how to stop this.”
Her eyebrow twitched, and she glared at Vance. Eyeholes were cut into the face of the top sack, and she glared into them.
“Fine,” she said. “If you think it’s so important, I will.”
She pushed from the table, clattering the tin teacups and plates. All empty. She rarely ate. Her companions, even less.
Calluna hiked up her dress as she walked, her bare, callused feet sinking into the swamp water so it might lap at the edges of her dress.
She feared no bite or sting, for the little creatures knew their place.
She walked until there was a break in the weeping oaks and their silvery blue leaves, which hung low and wide like spread hands.
Dragonflies buzzed about. She dismissed them with a thought.
So, too, did the mosquitoes and flies depart, chased away by a faint flash of silver that rolled from her hands. The water must be still.
“Sariel?” she whispered, closing her eyes.
The stars above shone down upon her, and they were a comfort.
Though she could not explain how or why, she felt their rays upon her skin, and it was cool and soothing.
Another pulse of silver, and the distant bullfrogs quieted their croaking.
Unnatural silence overcame the swamp. She felt herself falling, falling, the world swimming around her as her brother’s face heightened in clarity within her mind.
She opened her eyes.
Sariel stared back at her from the dark water, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Always a serious one, Sariel, but he held a soft spot in his heart for her. Knowing that always made her feel warm inside.
“I fear I know why you’ve sought me out,” he said. The water rippled across his mouth, and it was from those ripples that his voice emerged.
“You found Faron before me,” she said.
Sariel sighed. “What would you have told him if you found him first? To avoid me, and stay hidden and ignorant in the west?”
Calluna scrunched her nose.
“Anything would have been better than what you did. He’s mad. You made him mad. Have we not had enough fighting between us? Must you force Kaus into another war?”
Sariel arced an eyebrow. “You cast blame at the wrong feet, Calluna. Eder put himself upon a throne, not I.”
She hated how her brothers exuded such confidence. They never doubted themselves when they should. Sariel, though, was the worst.
“Fine,” she said, throwing up her hands. “So what are you two planning? Will you come east and murder your brother?”
“Yes.”
So simply. So casually. Calluna struck the water with her hand, banishing the image. She hated how angry it made her feel. How helpless. If only she had been the one to greet Faron, maybe then she could have set him on a different course.
She sniffled at the ripples.
“I miss you, Aylah,” she whispered.
Every year for the past three decades, she had searched for her sister.
With Faron, she would see the cave he’d burned within.
For Eder, she’d see his home in the Tower Majestic.
Sariel greeted her but hid his locations often, plotting as he traveled.
But Aylah? Darkness. Only darkness. As for their last sibling, Eist, well…
Eist had gone underground, and specifically asked beforehand that Calluna not seek them out.
It was a promise she kept, as much as she hated it during the long, lonely years.
When the water calmed, Calluna closed her eyes once more. So be it. If this was their course, then she would ensure all was equal among them.
“Eder,” she called out. Moments later, his pale face appeared. His smile was gentle, and his face partially hidden by waves of black hair cascading past his ears to frame the soft curve of his chin.
“Hello, Calluna,” he said. “If only you would visit me in my tower. I would love to greet you properly and show you the wonders I have built.”
The same invitation, year after year. She always refused. The Tower Majestic, and the nearby Racliffe, were both full of people. Too many people. Too many voices, and loud thoughts. Besides, she had spent more than enough years in the past scouring the tower and learning its mysteries.
Nervousness made her tremble, and so she blurted the truth out before she lost her nerve.
“Faron is awake.”
Eder crossed his arms. His smile hardened.
“Later than I expected, if I were honest. Have you spoken with him?”
She nodded. “I have… as has Sariel.”
No smile at all, just a tired sigh.
“I have not spoken with him since we last parted all those decades ago. I knew he would disapprove, but I also prayed he would not interfere. Did that change, Calluna? Has he merely been waiting for Faron to join him?”
It felt like Calluna need not speak a word. Eder saw things too clearly, and the siblings were all intimately familiar with one another’s beliefs and motivations. But best to make sure. Say the painful truth out loud.
“They’re coming to kill you.”
Eder closed his eyes, and then when he reopened them, radiance shone brilliant within his irises.
“Let them try.”
His face faded from the water. Calluna kicked it with her heel, but there was no heart to her protest. All she felt was loneliness deep within her chest. Stupid.
She had been so stupid, hoping as she always did that once Faron was awake they could be a family again.
But they hadn’t been a family for centuries.
Not since the shattering of the Anaon Kingdom.
But still, still, couldn’t she hope? If only for a moment?
Calluna trudged back to her little table.
Her three companions remained in their chairs.
Her lower lip trembled, and she feared she would cry.
Stars above, she was so lonely. How long had she lived in this swamp?
Two decades? Three? Perhaps it was better to do as Faron did and let fire erase the passage of years.
A wave of her hand, and a dragonfly zigzagged through the air to hover above Susannah. A snap of her fingers, and the frog latched on to it with her tongue. Well. At least she could make her companions happy, if not her true family.
Calluna ignored her own chair and instead settled onto Vance’s lap. All those feathers padded out the burlap sacks, making him so soft, so welcoming. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face against his chest. The burlap wrinkled.
“Maybe it’s time,” she whispered to the reawakened night. The insects returned, the bullfrogs croaked, and in the highest portions of the weeping oaks, gray bitterns and black-winged stilts called for mates. “Maybe I should go to them, be with them, and talk, really talk, really see…”
The idea of leaving her swamp terrified her, but stubbornness rose to match. Had it really been so long that she would fear the outer world? No. That settled it. She must travel the lands again, as she had for centuries prior.
She pulled back from Vance and smiled up at his burlap-sack face. He stared back through the holes, his blue eyes wide and bloodshot. Tears rolled down from them. They could not close. She had sliced off Vance’s eyelids before sewing the burlap about him and filling it with feathers.
“What do you think?” she asked, and kissed his mouth. The bags and feathers crinkled inward, and she felt the curve of lips and hardness of teeth underneath. She held the kiss, painfully reminded of how long it had been since she last lay with another man or woman. Not since retiring to the swamp.
Her hand brushed Vance’s crotch. Stupid of her. She’d sliced that part off, too, when she caught him trespassing.
“You’re right,” she said, hearing his answer.
He need not speak, for his thoughts were open to her.
Not that he could speak. Not after she’d finished her sewing.
She stood and pushed him from his chair.
He collapsed on his back, slowly sinking.
Calluna watched the mud swallow him whole, its murky surface bubbling from his panicked exhalations.
A snap of her fingers, and Susannah fled into the swamp while Frederick burst into flame. Calluna watched the twigs burn, and strangely, she thought of Faron upon his pyre.
Decision made, excitement replaced her nervousness. The world was shifting back into motion. Her brothers would plot, plan, and scheme, but at least their paths were connected. There was still a chance things could be made right.
The bubbles stopped. The surface turned still.
A smile lit Calluna’s face.
“We’re leaving, Vance. We’re leaving this swamp and returning to the world once more.”