The Reawakened

by Jeri Smith-Ready

  Sura stood next to the trench, listening to him gather wood on the other side, muttering to himself.

  “Either they’re idiots, or they’re trying to make my life miserable. Wouldn’t put it past Daria, but Kara, what’s her issue now? What have I done this time, what did I say, who did I look at for one too many moments and how long am I going to have to hear about—”

  He rounded the corner of the gap, arms full of wood, and stopped short when he saw Sura.

  She stared at him across the rocky trench. Her toes curled in her boots as if they could clutch the ground that seemed to sway beneath her.

  Everything about him was black—his clothes, his gloves, his eyes, his short, spiky hair. Everything but his face, which was rapidly reddening.

  “Sorry.” He glanced back at the place he’d just come from, as if a different person had stood there. “Didn’t mean for you to hear that.”

  “Hear—” Sura cleared her throat. “Hear what?”

  A corner of his mouth twitched, and her heart squirmed in her chest.

  “Right.” He winked. “Sura?”

  “Yes? I mean, yes. I’m Sura. And you’re Dravek.”

  “I am. Dravek.”

  They stared at each other for several long moments, and she thought she saw him swallow.

  She replanted her feet to maintain her balance. “Would you like some help moving the wood?”

  He didn’t speak or move, just stared at her, absorbing her with his dark gaze. She had the sensation of being tasted, sipped like an unfamiliar but enticing drink.

  “Are you sure you’re a Snake?” he said finally.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Etarek said you haven’t been Bestowed.”

  “Do you think I’m lying?”

  “I can’t tell without touching you.”

  She stepped back, her stomach quivering. “What do you mean?”

  “When people lie, sometimes their hands get cold, but it’s not foolproof. Sometimes it just means they’re afraid.”

  “Afraid of you?”

  He opened his mouth a fraction of an inch, and she could see his tongue run over the inside of his bottom teeth. “I’m a Snake, aren’t I?”

  She let out a deep breath and smiled. Someone who knows what it’s like to be me.

  He set the wood down on a pile to his right. “There’s a bit more to gather. Come on.” He held out his hand. “Watch your step.”

  She lurched forward, as if drawn by an invisible cord, completely failing to heed his advice. The first rock she stepped on turned over. She lost her balance and pitched forward.

  With inhuman speed, he reached out and caught her arm before she could fall. A flash of heat danced around the place where they touched, flaring back and forth between them.

  She blinked hard, trying to clear her head, as he raised her to her feet. Dravek took her other arm, more gently, and the hot sensation flowed stronger, smoother, like a river unfettered by twisting banks. She stared down at his gloved hands, then looked up at his face.

  The forest seemed to darken around her. His black eyes reflected the sunlight, flickering like a torch. She wondered if they lit up like that in the dark.

  “Come here.” He drew her up and over the ridge of the trench with him until they passed outside the fire ring onto level ground. Still gripping one of her wrists, he tugged off one of his gloves with his teeth and tossed it away. Then he motioned for her to do the same.

  She wanted to put her free hand behind her back, so his flesh couldn’t touch it. But something told her that if she didn’t give it to him, Dravek would seize it, anyway.

  Without taking her eyes off his, Sura put the tip of her middle finger in her mouth. The glove tasted of pine pitch and mink oil. She withdrew her hand easily, then without hesitation, took Dravek’s.

  The heat spiked, and flames leaped behind her eyes.

  She gasped, and the glove fell from her mouth. “What just happened?” She felt his gaze sear hers but feared to turn away, lest it burn another part of her.

  “I don’t know.” His voice shook. “Maybe it’s because we’re Snakes.”

  “I’ve never met another one since I had my powers.”

  “Me, neither.”

  Their fingers intertwined, and their palms pressed together. She had to concentrate to keep her breath even and slow.

  This was her Spirit-brother. She should feel as much desire for him as she would a member of her own family. But for the first time in months, every inch of her skin felt alive.

  A long moment passed, empty of words.

  Finally she whispered, “Now what?”

  His arm tensed, as if to pull her closer. Then he blinked rapidly and let her go. “Uh.” He brushed his bare hand over his shirt, then put his glove on. “Help me. That is, you can help me put the ring back together.” He unhooked a flask from his belt and held it out. “Water?”

  “Thank you,” she said quickly. The container was nearly full, and she took a deep draught, hoping it would cool her skin from the inside out.

  She handed the flask back to him, careful not to touch his fingers. He emptied it in two long gulps. They looked at each other again, then simultaneously jerked their gazes to the ring.

  Dravek cleared his throat. “First I need to bring all the wood to the interior and sort it. They left it on the wrong side and just threw it all into one pile. That’s what I was griping about when you walked up.” He wiped his mouth, then his forehead, which was beaded with sweat.

  “I’m sure they just forgot.”

  “No.” He shook the empty flask and frowned. “My sister loves to plague me.”

  “I think she loves to plague everyone.”

  He grinned at her, giving his face a boyish, less treacherous cast. “You picked up on that, then?”

  Feeling her face flush, Sura turned to the pile of boards and put her glove back on. “But Kara seems lovely.” She grasped as many boards as she could carry. “Why would she want to cause you trouble?”

  He snorted and reached his long arms around the rest of the wood. “To make me call off the wedding?”

  “Oh. Congratulations.” Sura hoped her voice disguised her odd sense of disappointment. She made her way carefully over the rocky trench. “I heard Kalindons didn’t marry anymore, that everyone just, you know—”

  “Sleeps with everyone else?”

  She dropped the wood on the pile. “Yes.”

  “Exaggeration.” He chose a pair of long boards. “Mostly.” He fastened the boards to the sides of the ring, then locked them together with their notches.

  Sura put her hands in her pockets, for lack of any task to occupy them, and to hide her nervousness. “When’s the wedding?”

  “Next week. You should come. I’ve heard Kalindon feasts are quite an experience for outsiders.” He glanced at her as he picked up another, shorter pair of boards. “Is it true that in Asermos, parties only last one night?”

  “There’s not much to celebrate these days.”

  “All the more reason to do it.” He stopped and looked at her. “After the Descendants invaded, killed all our elders and stole half the population, including—” His voice tightened, and he took a breath. “Kalindos went back to the old ways. The Spirits protect us as long as we follow Their wishes.”

  “Which are?” She’d heard tales of Kalindon excesses.

  He swept his arm toward the forest around him. “Living close to the trees. Taking care of each other, whether we share blood or not.” His eyes met hers. “Indulging our appetites.”

  She wanted to look away but forced herself to hold his gaze. “What do appetites have to do with honoring the Spirits?”

  “We give thanks for our lives by living them, every moment.” He rested the other end of his board on a rock and spun it on the tip. “We live as if life is more important than survival.”

  “Nothing’s more important than survival. You’d know that if you lived in Asermos.”

  He sno
rted. “You have more food, more healers, no wild animals big enough to eat you. Seems to me Asermos is—”

  “They’ve outlawed grandparents.”

  He stopped spinning the board. “Outlawed?”

  “Last year. The Ilions are afraid of our third-phase powers. When they find out someone’s pregnant, they make their parents move to Tiros.” She rubbed her arms. “So women don’t get pregnant anymore, or if they do, they don’t stay that way.”

  “I hadn’t heard that.” He turned and shoved the board into its proper place. “I’m sorry. Guess we’re pretty isolated out here. Did you tell the Council about this?”

  “I told Elora.”

  He stopped suddenly and looked at her. “Is that the real reason they put your mother in prison? You’re pregnant?”

  “No,” she hurried to say. “It’s because of the resistance.” She tugged on the tips of her gloved fingers. The topic veered too close to parts of her life she didn’t want to think about, much less discuss with this strange new acquaintance.

  Dravek’s voice softened. “Did you leave a mate behind in Asermos?”

  “Not really.” She looked at the dark soil at her feet and ran her thumb over the scar beneath her shirt. “He died.”

  “I’m sorry.” He took a step closer, so that he was almost within reach. “Descendants?”

  “Of course,” she said, as if no one ever died of another cause. But few had, in her memory.

  Dravek inhaled as if to say something, but didn’t speak, perhaps waiting for her to explain. But she couldn’t, not until she trusted him with the whole truth. Anyone could be an Ilion spy, even here in Kalindos.

  “Can I help you with the wall?” she asked him. “I could hand you the pieces.”

  He stepped back and took a breath, as if she’d released him from a spell. “It’ll go faster if I do it alone.” He gestured to the sloppy pile. “Every minute this gap is open, the village is vulnerable.”

  “Of course.” She turned away. “I’ll go now.”

  “Sura, wait.”

  Dravek touched her arm. Another jolt of heat seared her, stronger than before. He hissed and let go.

  She stared at him. “Did that hurt?”

  “No.” He looked at his hand, then back at her. “You?”

  “No.” She examined her skin where he’d touched her. “It wasn’t painful, just…” Her voice trailed off.

  “Hot,” he whispered.

  Another flush of heat crawled over her scalp, from nape to forehead. “I really should go.” Far, far away, she thought. Now.

  “You could help me sort the wood.” He blinked hard, then shook his head. “What am I saying? You’re probably tired from your journey.”

  At the moment, with her blood singing and skin tingling, she felt not a shred of exhaustion. “Do you want me to stay?”

  He started to shrug, then gave a crooked smile that squeezed her heart. “Yes?”

  In the last of a series of arduous thrusts, Dravek finally spent himself inside Kara. She went rigid, then limp in his arms, murmuring his name in a long, laughing moan that accentuated his silence.

  He rolled off her, more relieved than gratified, and made a late effort to echo her sounds of satisfaction. His own ears weren’t convinced.

  He looked across her sweat-streaked body at the window on the other side of his tree house. The moonlight’s angle had changed since she’d arrived. “You should hurry,” he told her, “or you’ll be late.”

  She turned to face him and curled one leg around both of his. “Can’t throw me out so quick once we’re married.”

  He wiped his face and forced a smile onto it. “I can if you’re still hunting. Kalindos needs to eat.”

  Kara turned toward the window, then gasped. “Look at the moon.” She sat up and reached for her shirt. “I had no idea it was so late.”

  “Sorry it took me so long.” Dravek slid to the edge of the bed and stood up. “I don’t know what it was.” He moved away from her and went to the basin of water on his dresser.

  “I wouldn’t normally complain,” she said with a laugh. She padded to the corner where her trousers and underclothes lay in a rumpled pile. “Were you distracted?”

  Dravek splashed water on his face and pretended he didn’t hear her. “Hmm?”

  “A bit rougher than usual. Again, I’m not complaining.” She picked up her clothes and hissed a breath through her teeth. “Ow. Not complaining too much.” She approached him as he dried his face and hands on a semiclean cloth. “Is something wrong?”

  “Of course not.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek, hoping his tone sounded cajoling instead of defensive.

  She pulled away with an exasperated sigh. “Why is, ‘of course not’ always a man’s answer to that question?”

  “Because it’s the wrong question to ask.”

  Kara yanked up her trousers, then sat on the bed to put on her socks. “I’ll be more specific, then. What happened today that made you think about something besides my body?” She picked up her moccasins, then set them in her lap. “Is it another woman?” Before he could answer, she shook her head, bouncing dark blond curls against her cheeks. “No, I swore I’d never ask you that.”

  He held up a hand. “Stop torturing yourself, and I’ll tell you.” Not everything, of course. Absolute honesty would never be their friend. “It’s Sura.”

  Her eyes widened, and her lower lip trembled. “But she’s your Spirit-sister.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he said, perhaps a little too hastily. “On the way home, she told me what’s been happening in Asermos. Horrible things my father’s people have done.”

  “Dravek…” Kara came forward and placed a soft hand on his chest. “Adrek’s your father, not that Ilion slavemaster.”

  He shook his head. “Adrek raised me, and I’m grateful. But his blood doesn’t flow through me like it does Daria.” His fist tightened on the towel, and he wanted to rip it in two. “What flows through me is evil.”

  “And good, too, like every one of us.” She wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m glad you’re not like Adrek and Daria. You’re a lot nicer.”

  “I’m not nice.”

  “No, but you’re not-nice in a much nicer way.” Her hands slipped down to squeeze the sides of his hips, as she had when he’d made love to her. “Do you still want to marry me?”

  His heartbeat spiked. “Why do you ask that?”

  She tilted her head. “The way we got engaged wasn’t completely…fair. I wouldn’t blame you for feeling trapped. If you change your mind, even a minute before the wedding, I’ll understand.”

  Her words sounded sincere, and her eyes were round and unblinking, but he could feel her skin grow cold with apprehension.

  “Don’t be silly. Of course I want to marry you.” He gently removed her hands from his hips, where her nails were digging into his flesh. “Now stop, or I’ll keep you here another hour or two.”

  “Won’t Mother love that.” Balancing on one foot at a time, she tugged on her moccasins. “It’s wretched having a parent with the same Spirit.”

  “Daria and Adrek are both Cougars. She doesn’t mind.”

  “Cougars hunt alone. Wolves have to hunt in packs, take orders from their leaders.” She pulled her mass of curls back and began to braid her hair. “Wish I had my own pack.”

  “One day you will.”

  She gasped. “We’ll go to Tiros, then, after we get married? So you can train with Vara?”

  Dravek’s stomach sank, though he didn’t understand why. He hadn’t been eager to leave Kalindos before, but now the thought filled him with dread, a dread connected to Sura.

  “I can’t leave now that I have an apprentice.”

  “But if you train with Vara, you can come back and be an even better mentor. Especially after you make the second phase.” She slid her hand over her belly and put on a serene smile.

  Dravek suddenly wanted to get dressed—another unusual impulse. He grab
bed the closest shirt and yanked it over his head, though he suspected it was inside out. “I should at least take her for her Bestowing. There’s time before the wedding.” He knelt and skimmed his hands along the rug near the bed, searching for his drawers and trousers.

  “Good, then.” She dashed for the door. “See you tomorrow!”

  He grunted a reply, still seeking the rest of his clothes and cursing his lack of night vision.

  Kara put her hand on the latch, then stopped and turned slowly. “You didn’t do it.”

  He looked up. “Do what?”

  “Grab me. Every time I leave your house, you snatch me up and steal one more kiss. This time you let me go.”

  “Oh.” His hand finally met cloth, and he pulled his trousers from under the bed. “Sorry.”

  She waited a moment, then turned the latch. “Good night, then.”

  Kara was halfway across the threshold before he darted across the room and seized her by the waist. She released a shriek of delight as he wrestled her back inside and onto his bed. He gripped her wrists and spread his body over hers.

  “One more,” he whispered against her lips. “So you won’t forget me.”

  The kiss was long and languid, and soon she was squirming beneath him, her skin heating and pulsing.

  Finally he scooped Kara into his arms and carried her to the porch, where he planted her back on her feet. She stumbled a little, her eyes dark and dazed with desire.

  “Good night,” she whispered.

  He smiled at her as he shut the door.

  When her footsteps reached the ladder, he let himself inhale. When the ladder’s creaks faded, he let out a long, tightly held breath. He looked down and was relieved to see that his shirt-tail hid his complete lack of arousal.

  He stripped off his shirt before sinking back into bed. Kara’s scent covered the pillow and blanket, but failed to stoke his passion.

  Perhaps he was ill, Dravek wondered as he stared up at the pine branch that bisected his one-room tree house. He’d wanted almost every woman he’d ever met, and more than half the men. But after meeting Sura, those previous desires felt as stale as week-old bread. He craved her, inexplicably, with body and soul. The hours since they’d parted felt like endless gray days, like the ones at the end of winter.