After washing his hands, Tullen took his leave. While hunting, he had given his magic a workout. Wanting to give it time to recharge, he walked the first mile. By the time he reached the first trees of the forest, the soft light of dawn illuminated the trees. He activated the magic in his stride-blessed feet.
Tullen ran, leaping over roots, rocks, and streams with gifted precision. In the month since Tavi had broken things off with him, he’d found that running and hunting lifted his spirits in a way nothing else did.
He missed her terribly. And it wasn’t so much that he missed holding her or kissing her. Sure, he thought about that more often than he’d like, but mostly he longed for the friendship they had built over nearly three years. When Tavi saw him, she wasn’t rude. Instead, she treated him like an acquaintance. He almost wished she would sneer and scream at him.
Tullen was so used to Tavi being part of all the details of his life, whether exciting or mundane. He had wanted to tell her about his recent progress with his hearing magic, which he could use at greater distances than before. He could picture her smiling smugly when he admitted Nydine’s meditation exercises had helped him. A few days before, he had wanted to tease her by showing her a small cut he’d gotten at the butcher shop. She would have grimaced at the sight of blood, but then she would have healed him. And just that morning, his first instinct had been to stop at Tavi’s house after his hunt. He would have tapped on her window and shown her the heavy bags, accepting her drowsy smile as his reward.
This line of thinking is pointless. Tullen tried to distract himself. He watched birds, monitored the sun’s movement, and stopped to snack on a piece of antlerfruit he found. When none of that kept him from thinking of Tavi, he activated his hearing magic, listening for animals. That didn’t work either. He had taken Tavi on too many runs along these forest paths. Yes, he heard the steps of deer and chattering of squirrels, but he also heard Tavi’s squeals of delight.
He gave up. With purpose, he relived dozens of moments with her—flashes of memory that were funny, sad, or sweet. He indulged in a few tears, slowing his pace when his vision grew too blurry. And when he at last reached paths he and Tavi had not traveled together, the memories became less insistent, and he relaxed and enjoyed his run.
Due to his distractibility, it took a little longer than usual to reach the Meadow, but after two hours of travel, the gate was in sight. Tullen had been visiting once a month, and he had learned to take the path with the most tree cover overhead to prevent the tower guard from spotting him. He didn’t like to give them time to prepare for his arrival.
Once Tullen exited the forest, his gifted feet could cover the space between the tree line and the gate in half a minute. But one of the gate guards was extra-alert, sprinting out of the gate a few seconds after Tullen reached open ground.
The guard sprinted toward him, but Tullen kept running. He could swing wide around the guard, proceeding straight to the gate. The man couldn’t run fast enough to catch him. But where was the fun in that? The guard, Urlo, was just a year older than Tullen, and they had been great friends until Tullen had left. Tullen couldn’t resist the temptation to turn the chase into a game.
As soon as Urlo drew near, almost close enough to grab his prey, Tullen turned, headed back toward the trees at a different angle. A few seconds later, he turned again, going straight toward Urlo. He looped around the panting man twice, adjusting his path each time Urlo got too close. At last Tullen ran straight to the gate, laughing the whole way.
An older guard waited behind the locked gate, hands on his hips. Tullen released his magic and greeted the man with a polite smile. “Morning, sir. I’d like to see my family, please.”
The man let out a long sigh. “You know I can’t let you in, Tullen.”
Urlo ran up behind Tullen, panting. “He’ll just keep coming, once a month, regular as the moon. Why don’t we let him see them?”
“It’s not our decision,” the older guard said. “You know what Aba and the other elders said.”
“I, too, know what Aba and the elders said,” Tullen still had a smile on his face. “It’s as ridiculous today as it was the day I left. Tell me my parents and brother don’t want to see me, and I’ll never return. But as long as they want to see me, I’ll keep coming.”
“They don’t want to see you,” the older guard said.
“You know that’s not true,” Urlo turned to Tullen. “They’re upset each time they find out you came, and they’ve been begging the elders to notify them when you arrive so they can come out here and see you.”
“I’m shocked the elders haven’t said yes,” Tullen said, one eyebrow raised.
His childhood friend chuckled. “I wish it were different.”
“I understand.” Tullen clapped him on the shoulder. “If you ever tire of this place, come to Oren. They hate antlerfruit, but everything else there is nice. And best of all . . . no gates.”
Urlo gave a sly smile. “I hear you’ve met someone there.”
Tullen cleared his throat. “I’d better get back.”
Urlo shook Tullen’s hand. “See you next month.”
Tullen walked toward the trees. He could only use his magic for about two hours straight before he needed to rest. He had nearly drained it, but if he walked the first quarter hour or so, he could be sure of making it the rest of the way to Oren on swift feet.
About a mile into the forest, he activated the magic in his feet. It felt strong. He was about to run when he heard a noise behind him. For a moment, he thought he’d imagined it, but there it was again, a little louder. “Tullen?”
“Who’s there?” He couldn’t understand the response, but he heard running footsteps approaching. He peered into the forest, ready to sprint away if his visitor was someone he didn’t want to see.
But when the source of the voice came into view, Tullen’s face broke into a sudden grin. “Jenevy!”
“Tullen.” Jenevy, one of his closest friends from the Meadow, ran toward him, breathing hard. She slowed and returned his smile as she got closer.
“What are you doing here?”
“Can we sit so I can catch my breath?”
“Sure.” Tullen sat against a tree, and Jenevy did the same.
“I heard you’ve been coming every month,” Jenevy said, “and they told me it’s always in the morning. I’ve been taking a break from morning chores almost every day to check in with the guards. When I got there today, Urlo told me if I hurried, I might catch up to you.”
“I hope the elders don’t find out,” Tullen said.
Jenevy’s eyes raised to meet his. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to go back.”
“What?”
“I want to move to Oren. Maybe somewhere else eventually. I’m ready to be done with the Meadow.”
“Why, Jen?” Tullen watched her intently.
Jenevy didn’t flinch away from his gaze. “When you left, your mother told me what happened. I couldn’t believe the elders said you couldn’t come back. I suppose I should have known that would happen, but actually seeing it, and with someone I care about . . . It isn’t right, Tullen.”
“It’s not,” he agreed. “But leaving is hard. You’ll miss your family every day. And you won’t know anyone in Oren except me.”
“I know.” Jenevy looked off to the side. “I’ve been trying to enjoy my time with my family, but there was no way to prepare them. I couldn’t tell them I wanted to leave.”
Tullen nodded. Jenevy’s parents were friends with some of the elders. As an adult, Jenevy was free to do as she wished. But if her parents had known her plans, they would have done all they could to dissuade her. “You said what happened to me isn’t right,” Tullen said. “And that’s a good reason for me to leave. I’m not sure it’s a good reason for you to leave.”
“It’s not just that. It started with you leaving. But since then I’ve seen so many other things I’ve always ignored, until now. I’ve seen farmers returning from mar
ket, going straight to the Elders’ Hall to show the elders what they bought in town, hoping the elders would let them keep it. I’ve heard sometimes they even get searched. And did you know Aba made Romi stop teaching because she used a Corminian history book that wasn’t approved?” Tullen nodded, and Jenevy continued. “I’ve always believed one of the best things about the Meadow is how open everyone is with each other. But I’ve recently learned that the elders are allowed to meet in secret once a week with no written record.”
Tullen raised his eyebrows; he hadn’t known about that last policy. “I don’t like any of those things either,” he told Jenevy. “And if you want to come to Oren, that’s fine. We’ll find a place for you to stay. But don’t do it unless you’re sure. They may not let you return.”
Jenevy looked back toward the Meadow for several long moments. When she turned back to Tullen, she had tears in her eyes. But she squared her shoulders and said, “I’m sure.”
Tullen nodded slowly and smiled at his old friend. “They’ll miss you, you know. But I’m glad you’ll be in Oren.” Then he turned around, crouched down, and patted his back. “Want a lift?”
Tavi was doing homework at Narre’s house.
Actually, that was what they were supposed to be doing. They had brought their work outside, but the weather was so perfect, they had both ended up laying on a quilt in the yard, soaking up the sun and letting the breeze brush their skin.
“I should help you with your math lesson,” Tavi said.
“Mmm hmm,” Narre replied.
“Like I promised,” Tavi said.
“Probably should,” Narre agreed.
But neither of them budged until the back door opened, and Narre’s mother’s voice floated outside. “Here’s the yard,” she was saying. “Oh, there they are. Narre! Tavi!”
They both sat up, looking toward the door. Narre’s mother Jilla smiled next to Tullen and a young woman Tavi didn’t recognize.
“Do you know her?” Tavi murmured.
Narre shook her head, and they both stood and walked toward the trio at the door.
“Hi, Narre . . . Tavi,” Tullen said, nodding to them. They returned the greeting.
“Girls, this is Jenevy,” Jilla said. “Jenevy, this is my daughter, Narre and my niece, Tavi.”
They all greeted each other, and Tavi tried to keep the confusion off her face. Jenevy looked closer to Tullen’s age than Tavi’s, but Tavi knew everyone their age in Oren, at least by sight. Who was the newcomer?
Jilla answered the unspoken question. “Jenevy is from the Meadow,” she said. “She wants to live elsewhere now, and I told her she’s welcome to stay here as long as she needs to. She’ll share your room, Narre.”
Narre beamed. “Perfect!” She had always told Tavi she wanted a sister to share a room with.
“Welcome,” Tavi said, attempting a smile. She had so many questions, but the one that came out was, “How did you get here from the Meadow?”
“Tullen carried me,” Jenevy said. “He was there today, and I managed to catch him before he left.” She smiled at Tullen, a dimple showing itself in her cheek.
“Oh.” Tavi could have slapped herself for her obvious discomfort and lack of eloquence.
“I’m giving Jenevy a little tour,” Jilla said.
“We’ll come too!” Narre volunteered. The five of them walked through the large yard, and as Jilla pointed out things like the workshop and tire swing, Tavi stole glances at the girl walking next to Tullen.
Jenevy was pretty. Very pretty. Her hair was a mass of tight, black curls, and there was so much of it. It was tied up into a loose bun, but tendrils had escaped all over the place, and they bounced as she walked. Her frequent smile showed off perfect teeth. She was of average height, with curves in all the places a woman should have them. Tavi felt like a little girl beside her.
To make matters worse, Jenevy was polite, friendly, and even funny. Her voice had the same rhythmic quality and soft vowels as Tullen’s. She had grown up only thirty miles away, but the word exotic described her perfectly. Tavi found herself seeking something to dislike about the Meadow Dweller. She settled on the fact that Jenevy’s ears stuck out just a little too much from her head—and then she felt guilty for focusing on something so ridiculous.
They all went inside. Tavi had already agreed to stay for dinner; Ista would come pick her up afterward. Jilla invited Tullen to stay, too. Tavi wanted to walk home alone, but she knew she wouldn’t get away with that. So she tried to keep a pleasant expression on her face as she pitched in with the others to finish the meal preparations.
As Tavi set the table, she kept a close eye on Jenevy, particularly on how Jenevy and Tullen interacted with each other. They were playful; it was clear they’d been friends for a long time. But Tavi noticed nothing more than generic friendliness between them. Not that it should bother her if she saw more . . . but it would be very soon for him to find someone else, wouldn’t it? Tavi certainly wasn’t looking at other boys. Of course, she was the one who had ended things; why should it even matter to her if Tullen met someone else?
Tavi was still arguing with herself when she heard Narre say, “Tell us about your family, Jenevy.”
There was no response, and Tavi turned to see Jenevy trying to blink away tears. A moment later, she was wiping them as they escaped her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said.
Narre put a hand on Jenevy’s back. “It was insensitive of me to ask that. I’m sure you miss them already.”
Jenevy nodded.
When they sat down to dinner, Tavi couldn’t seem to figure out where to look. Each time her gaze met Tullen’s, which seemed to happen far more often than it should, Tavi felt her cheeks grow warm, and she didn’t know why. And each time she caught Jenevy’s eye, she had to force her face into a smile that she hoped looked less fake than it felt.
Eventually, Tavi gave up on socializing. She looked down at her plate, rearranged her food with her fork, and waited for her sister to pick her up.
Chapter Thirteen
Then some foes fell. The others fled.
And Relin’s men, as one, bowed down.
But when they called him “King,” he said,
“My head’s not made to wear a crown.”
-From Relin the Fierce, Author Unknown
Tavi was dreaming of something—she couldn’t remember what afterward—when a sharp rap on her bedroom door startled her awake. She squinted her eyes open just in time to see Narre enter her bedroom.
“I was sleeping,” Tavi groaned.
“Clearly,” Narre said. “But it’s the middle of the day, and it’s beautiful outside. Plus, a merchant sent word that he’s arriving today, and I’ve heard he has the most divine fabrics for sale. Let’s go!”
“No, thanks.” Tavi turned over and closed her eyes again.
This time it was her mother’s voice interrupting Tavi’s attempted nap. “Hop out of bed, Tavi. Like Narre said, it’s a beautiful day. I need you to see if this merchant has any blue calico. I can’t get away from the pies I’m making.”
With a sigh, Tavi got out of bed. “I’d like to get dressed,” she said, shooing Narre and Mey out of her room. They left, closing the door. Tavi had planned for a good, long nap, and she wasn’t happy to exchange her nightgown for her dress after just half an hour in bed.
Since Misty’s death, every day had been hard. But some, like this one, were more difficult than others. Tavi couldn’t tie it to any particular circumstance. She just missed her sister. When she felt this way, it exhausted her. She’d never been much of a nap-taker, but that had changed in the previous six weeks. Apparently her mother and Narre were now conspiring to keep her out of bed. During the day, anyway.
When Tavi was dressed, she entered the kitchen and greeted her aunt Jilla, who was sitting at the table. Mey insisted Tavi eat a light lunch. That done, both girls left for town.
“I’m surprised Jenevy didn’t go with you,” Tavi said as they strode along the dirt
road.
“I forgot to tell you, she has a job,” Narre said.
“She does? What’s she doing?”
“She’s helping at the midwife house. Mostly laundry and cleaning, but she’s hoping to begin an apprenticeship there soon.”
“I guess I’ll be seeing her more often, then.” Tavi kept her voice even, but Narre turned to her, eyebrows raised.
“She’s very nice,” Narre said.
“If you say so.” Tavi knew her response to Jenevy was unfair, but she didn’t know how to change it, or if she even wanted to. All she saw when she encountered Jenevy was a girl who had known Tullen longer than she had and was prettier than she was. Whenever her logical side insisted that those things shouldn’t matter, since Tullen didn’t mean anything to her anymore, Tavi just felt like her brain was wrapping itself in knots, and she tried to think of something else.
Before long, they were on Oren’s main street, and their timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Just as they reached the opposite edge of town, a horse-drawn wagon came toward them. The driver pulled into the grassy area where traveling merchants set up their wares. Several others were watching for his arrival, and a current of excitement flowed through the crowd.
The merchant got down from his seat and walked around to the back of the wagon, addressing the small crowd. “My friends in Oren! It’s good to see you again.” Tavi recognized the man; he came at least once a year. She and Misty had purchased his fabric the previous spring, a memory that sliced into Tavi with its sudden, tragic clarity.
The merchant smiled widely and spoke in a voice made to reach to the backs of crowds. “I brought more than just fabric this time.”
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