Joy flooded her, warming her. Misti’s throat tightened a little and tears prickled her eyes. Even though it had taken all of her crafting to save them, even though she had almost died trying, she would do it again in a heartbeat.
With the Nemora gone, Misti could see three figures standing by one of the columns of her space. Dylori stood, with her arms crossed tight over her chestplate and gazing at the ground. Arias face wore a worried expression and her bow was slung over her shoulder. An elderly Ingo Nemora, his bent back turned away from her, stood talking quietly with the other two.
Dylori’s gaze flicked to Misti, and the elderly Nemora turned, leading the others to her side. His gray vest flowed around him as he moved, showing the sagging skin around his chest and belly, the stiffness in his elbows, the wrinkles in his neck. What little silver hair he had wisped around his head, and his long eyebrows drooped over his gray eyes. He was old, older than most Nemora Misti had seen.
The symbol sewn prominently into his vest—seven nested circles—marked him as one of the Seventh Circles, and the ruler of the Ingo Grove. Each of the seven Groves had one leader who managed the entire Grove and traded with the other races, determining what their Grove needed most—food, clothing, daygems—in exchange for resources.
Even with her trips to the Groves, she’d never seen one of the Seventh Circles before. It was a great honor to be seen by such an important figure. Heat burned Misti’s cheeks and she ducked her head, both out of respect and to hide the orange blush on her skin. She ran a shaking hand through her hair, nerves making her want to move, and a few strands fell into her lap. A moment later, wrinkled fingers plucked up the strands, and Misti looked up. A soft smile pulled at the Nemora’s thin lips. Closer now, she could see that the gray of his skin and the sharp angles of the markings that branded him as an Ingo hadn’t diminished at all with age.
His eyes met hers and his voice came out soft, airy, like the hushed sound of a sword swishing through the air. “Anoc-suna, young one. Believe it or not, I used to have hair like this, though the color was a bit shinier than yours. Like that color over there.” He pointed to the copper sphere Misti had noticed before. “No disrespect, of course.”
“None taken.” Misti beamed in return. “I’ve only met silver-haired Ingo before.”
“Yes, my kind do come few and far between.” The elderly Nemora stared out into quarry, where more Nemora lingered. All of them had silver hair. The elderly Nemora chuckled. “And now my hair’s faded as well. That’s what happens when you live as long as I.” He turned back to her and gestured for the others to come closer. Dylori still hadn’t raised her gaze, but Arias moved closer and put a hand on her knee, soothing some of Misti’s nerves at meeting such an important person.
“These travelers say you were attacked by a Nemora who worshipped the sun goddess. One who hurt you and your vulnix. I apologize on behalf of my people.”
“While I appreciate the apology, there’s no need. She wasn’t your kind any longer.”
The elderly Nemora straightened his posture a little, his voice becoming stronger. “Your friends also told me you healed the sudden influx of animals in my Grove. Quite impressive indeed. I have not seen such strength in a Vagari before.”
Misti ducked her head again, the back of her neck burning from the compliment. “I…I had to help them.”
The elderly Nemora lifted her chin so that their eyes met. “And help them you did.” He paused, holding her gaze for a moment longer before letting go. “My name is Tessero. I am the Seventh Circle here at Ingo, and I understand you have been having some issues with that pendant around your neck.”
Misti’s hand flew instinctively to the pendant, fingers grazing the orb. Touching it didn’t burn her skin this time. It seemed quiet, but she never knew when it could flare up again, especially now that the Moon cage was broken. She glanced down. The white orb stared back, unhindered by the blue glow. Fear tightened around her, like a cloak cinched tight around her neck. With the cage broken, she really was a walking death bomb, ready to go off whenever this pendant desired. She looked to the others. “I don’t know how much my friends told you.”
“Everything,” Arias said. The dabbler looked fresher than Misti would have expected after their journey here. Her face and hair seemed recently washed, and the rips in her clothing had been mended. How long have we been here? How long have I been asleep? “I told him everything.”
“And he might not be able to help.” Dylori swiped her sleeve across her nose, her voice rough like she had been crying. “He might not be able to melt the metal on that sunbaked pendant. And it might go off if he tries.”
Tessero frowned. “That is the predicament we currently find ourselves in, yes. I am not familiar with the metal that surrounds that orb. It is not found in this Grove, or even on Inber.”
Not even on this continent? Misti’s stomach clenched. That’s why Vivia had decided to have a Seventh Circle look at her. No other Nemora would have the depth of experience with metals that Tessero did.
“What does that mean?”
Tessero gave Misti a pat on the shoulder. “It means that the banished Blood crafter who gave it to you has access to things foreign to this continent.”
“Where could such a metal have come from?” Misti asked, dreading the answer. Tessero didn’t speak and Dylori hadn’t lifted her gaze, so she turned to Arias.
Arias’ grip tightened on her knee. “Not from Lurial Islands, that’s for certain. We may not deal with the Divus much, but we do know of the metals they possess. It is possible that it’s from the continent across the ocean, Ustrina.”
Ustrina, more commonly referred to as the Sunglade, Ponuriah’s domain. The continent where the final battle had taken place between the sisters, where the suncreatures first appeared, Ustrina had been completely deserted generations ago. No one who had gone there was ever seen or heard from again.
But apparently someone had traveled to the Sunglade. They had found new things there—metals and Blood crafting abilities and who knew what else—that no one had ever seen or heard of before.
Her mind drifted to her parents. Had they ever heard of such things? After shunning them so long, would they tell me if they had? No, they wouldn’t. But perhaps they’d tell Char, to try to pull her to their side. Char always had an interest in working with new materials. She was the first to work with the unique plants and supplies the Divus from the island nation traded with Northtown. The pendant would surely fascinate her. But Char had so much to worry about already. Besides, Misti had a Seventh Circle standing in front of her, the most powerful metal crafter in Inber. He should be the one to help her, not her younger sister.
Misti bit her lip, running her hand over Zora’s soft feathers and fur to calm her nerves. “Well, I’d really like to get this pendant off my neck. If you’re willing to risk it, I would be grateful for your help.”
Tessero nodded. “Yes, I heard of what happened to the others who tried to remove it from you, but I am willing to try.”
Despite her gratitude, Misti couldn’t help remembering the cold eyes staring at the ceiling, the slightly parted mouth ready to say something that would never be said. Worry settling on her shoulders, Misti looked to the others. Dylori had finally lifted her gaze, but Misti could only read frustration on her face. A fierce look of determination hardened Arias’ features as she moved back a step and raised her hands, readying her crafting just in case. Arias’ resolve solidified Misti’s. They had to try.
Misti tapped Zora’s side and motioned for her to go to Dylori. Her vulnix licked her on the cheek before doing so, and Dylori backed away a few paces to where Arias’ Moon shield would protect them.
Tessero gave Misti a sad look before reaching forward for the pendant, the sharp patterns on his arms and chest glowing a deep brown. Misti took one more look at Dylori, who scowled and held Zora tight, and Arias, whose crafting already glimmered in the air, then closed her eyes.
A flash of brown
light, so bright she could see it behind her eyelids, burst and then a sharp pain radiated through her chest. Someone nearby gasped. Misti knew at once the trial had failed as she still felt the pendant’s heat. Hoping that Tessero had survived whatever the pendant had tried to do, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes. To her great relief, Tessero stood before her, frowning but alive. The pendant was fused to her skin, but its thrumming slowly faded away, a warning perhaps. Disappointment tightened close around her, wrapping her in a dark cloak of worry. They had traveled all this way and battled banished worshippers, only to discover that Tessero, a Seventh Circle, couldn’t even help her.
“What we feared has happened. My crafting did not work.” Tessero sighed.
“Thank you for trying.” Misti moved to stand, sliding away from Tessero. “But I have to go. You and your people are in danger with me around.” She gave him a deep bow. “Goodbye, Tessero.”
Tessero reached out to squeeze her arm. “Goodbye, Misti. May the moon always be over your head.”
“And yours as well.”
“We must go,” Dylori corrected, shoving Zora into Misti’s arms and pulling them both along. Arias followed, waving at Tessero as she did.
They wove their way past the columns and down a path that led to the copper sphere in the center of the quarry. Even though she was scared, she found her curiosity getting the better of her. She hadn’t seen the Ingo Grove before, and a part of her feared she never would again. Great boulders jutted from the ground, sparkling with metals of all different colors—red, green, yellow, gray. There were deep holes burrowed into the ground, so deep and dark she couldn’t see the bottom. Few trees grew here, and the ones that did force their way through the stones grew hearty, all thick brown bark and hard green needles.
They skirted around a crowd of Nemora and made their way to a group of stones that formed something like an archway, the official entrance to the Ingo Grove. Beyond the archway Dis waited, lying on his side, huffing great puffs of white into the air.
Misti glanced at Dylori. “How’s Dis’ leg?”
“Fine,” Dylori replied, voice sharp. She rubbed one of her horns, looking everywhere but at Misti.
Still angry, Misti thought with a wince. But with who? She was about to ask when Arias nudged her in the shoulder.
“You did amazingly, Misti,” Arias said. “Dis’ leg is completely healed.”
Hugging Zora closer, Misti managed a small “good” before guilt ate away her voice. She was happy that her crafting had healed Dis, but she should’ve healed Zora completely, too. A thought pierced her mind, remembering how refreshed her friends looked when she first awoke. “How long was I asleep?”
At that question Dylori picked up her pace, removing herself from the conversation and heading over to Dis. Her eyes glowed when she reached his side, and they sank into their own discussion.
Arias nudged her shoulder again, drawing her attention. “A night.”
“A whole night?” Misti yelped. Zora’s tails swished back and forth over her arm, and she flicked one of her pointed ears. “I didn’t know…”
Fingers wrapped around her arm and Misti jerked to a stop, dropping Zora onto the path. Her vulnix yipped and flew up to settle on her shoulders. Misti glanced around to see who had grabbed her and was met with a piercing bright-purple stare. Short purple hair, much lighter than their eyes, covered the young Nemora’s forehead, sticking out this way and that. She was female today, though young enough to go through the nox, the fluid transformation every Nemora went through until the age of their Choosing ritual. Their skin had a muddled look, purple and green mottled together. That, combined with the dual pattern type on their neck—deep purple leaves with lighter purple dots spotting all around them—marked them as a mixed Nemora. Probably Dara and Myceli, trees and medicine. A poison-based Nemora, maybe? Misti held their gaze, but the Nemora didn’t say anything.
“Can I…help you?” Misti wrapped her hand around the Nemora’s. She intended on prying their arm away, but the sudden wild look in the Nemora’s eyes made her stop. Arias was no help at all, openly staring at the Nemora but not saying anything.
“Consider finding other banished Divus to help remove it.” The Nemora spoke softly and urgently, as if telling Misti a secret. They loosened their hold, shoved something into Misti’s hand, and darted up the path to the copper sphere. Misti glanced down at the handful of spiny red leaves she now carried. She didn’t recognize them but pocketed them anyway. Maybe Dis would enjoy the gift later.
Tessero had seen and shuffled over, pointing to where the other Nemora had passed him by. “Did Zayla talk to you?”
“Yes,” Misti replied. “They had a good suggestion, too.”
“Marvelous.” Tessero watched Zayla, deep in thought. “Zayla’s home was destroyed by suncreatures long ago. They are walking the path but do not usually talk to people, much less strangers.”
“Walking the path?” It was an expression Misti had never heard before.
Tessero gave her a confused look that deepened the wrinkles in his face. “It’s a common rite of passage for each Nemora before their Choosing ritual. You’ve heard of our Choosing ritual, correct?”
“Yes, I know of your ritual of genders.” Misti tucked the “walking the path” phrase into a small corner of her mind, glad she had learned something new of the Nemora this day.
“You must have made an impression on Zayla for them to talk to you,” Tessero murmured.
“I don’t know when I could’ve done that. I hardly saw them,” Misti muttered, rubbing her arm where Zayla had gripped it.
Tessero patted her shoulder again. “But Zayla saw you.”
“Have we given you payment for your help?”
He gestured to Dylori. “Your friends have given my people a wonderful assortment of coins and meats.”
“Thank you for your aid.” Misti tugged on Arias’ tunic to make her move. She had been staring at Zayla throughout the entire conversation.
“Safe travels,” Tessero replied.
Arias dragged her gaze from Zayla’s retreating form and focused on Misti again, walking alongside her. “I’ve never seen a Nemora like that before.”
Misti shook her head. “Me either. They looked kind of…wild.”
“Wild. Good term for it. I wonder how much she’ll change tomorrow,” Arias murmured, distracted. She looked over her shoulder to where Zayla now plucked some stones off the ground.
It surprised her that Arias didn’t use the Nemora’s preferred “their” for the younger ones instead of using the current gender, but maybe she wasn’t as wordly as she appeared to be. Misti nudged her. “Got an eye for them, do you?”
“Maybe. Her colorings were quite pretty.”
“Well, that won’t change. Their bone structure and private areas will.” At this point, Misti’s curiosity got the better of her. We’re friends, right? Friends talked about this kind of thing. “Would that matter to you?”
Arias tucked back her black hair into a frizzy bun on top of her head. She wouldn’t meet Misti’s eye and a blush stained her tan cheeks dark blue. “No. Not to me.”
“Glad to hear you fly my way.” Misti grinned, her cheeks heating a little with embarrassment. She tried her best to look anywhere but at Dylori and failed horribly.
Arias laughed, nudging Misti in the ribcage. “Indeed.”
Misti clammed up once they reached Dylori. Arias went over to pet Dis, laughing a bit too much for Misti’s liking.
Dis gave Misti a friendly nudge that nearly knocked her off her feet, and Dylori caught her arm to steady her. She held on for a few moments longer than necessary before letting go—a decision Misti didn’t mind at all—and looked a little less angry than before. “What did that purple Nemora want? They looked…intense.”
Happy that some of Dylori’s fury seemed to have dimmed, Misti replied, “That we should consider finding banished Divus to help get this pendant off me.”
“That’s ludicr
ous.” Arias scoffed. “Who’s to say any banished folk would help us?”
“They wouldn’t.” Dylori sighed and looked at Misti. “Now what?”
It was a good question. Misti tilted her head back and gazed at the cloudless sky. A Seventh Circle couldn’t help them. A Seventh Circle. Fear tingled through her. Where else can we go? Where else had powerful crafters? She heard tell of a disreputable underground organization of crafters—the Shadowed Hand—far to the west in the Shey region. But why would any of them come this far east?
A thought flashed through her mind like lightning through clouds—Praxis. The crafting academy housed the best in the world. It would be a long journey. Rok, the city where Praxis was located, was a whole crescent south of here. She scratched Zora’s tails as she thought. With the Blood pendant active again, she couldn’t risk happening upon folk.
They’d have to take the Strixi’s Road, a direct path south that avoided all the cities and villages on the way. It would take them fourteen nights, each with the chance for this pendant to activate and injure someone. For she knew, no matter how hard she’d protest, that Dylori would come with her, and that meant Dis would come. And as strange as it might seem, Arias had decided to come along this far, and Misti had a suspicion she’d stay with them.
Fourteen nights would be the best-case scenario, with Dis running most of the way and requesting aid from the Laidly Grove Lake, a large pristine freshwater lake that spanned a good chunk of the south. It was the best plan she had.
“I’m going to go to Praxis.” Misti looked at Dylori. “You coming?” So sure that Dylori would approve of the plan, if only to come with her on the journey, it surprised her when her friend stepped back and shook her head.
“Praxis? That’s a hard journey, even with Dis’ help.”
“I think they’d be able to help us. It’s the only way,” Misti replied, looking to Arias for support. The dabbler only shrugged.
Sunkissed Feathers & Severed Ties Page 18