The second night, her friends seemed unaffected. Misti didn’t feel tired, for which she was grateful, but little things that had never annoyed her before annoyed her now. The way Dylori sighed when they took too long of a rest. The way Arias kept looking at her bow. The way Dis huffed a greeting to all the birds that passed overhead. Her annoyance rose as the evening went on, but she tried to contain it, working hard to keep up a cheerful veneer and participate in her friends’ conversations. They’d been through a lot, and she didn’t want to worry them.
Three nights later, three more pulses absorbed and no banished Blood crafters, and Dylori and Arias acted like nothing was wrong. They went through the regular evening motions of pulling their packs up onto Dis, stomping out the fire, setting off for Laidly. They also activated a daygem for Arias’ sake, which she thanked them for.
Misti, however, felt worse. She was having a harder time hiding her growing annoyance from the others, and she felt tired, even after the deep sleep that absorbing the orb’s power sent her into. She felt like she had been on a long run instead of merely sleeping. But they would reach Laidly soon, she told herself, and although the water Nemora wouldn’t be able to help with the pendant, the journey south would go much faster if they were allowed to use the lake for transportation.
Misti sat in the very back this time, looking ahead and gritting her teeth, glaring at the oncoming dusk and daring anything to come at them. She hoped a banished Blood crafter would strike. Where are all the Divus? We had so many in Whels. She could use a good fight right about now. Get some of her anger out. Yet she couldn’t fathom why she was so angry. Dylori and Arias sat cattycorner to each other, chatting in light, happy tones. Even that annoyed Misti.
“Who are you working with?” Dylori asked, a poke to the side easing the pointed question. She had sprung the question—or ones similar to it—on Arias at least once a night, but Arias never budged. Asking that question was sometimes hazardous, since Arias had taken a shine to asking equally personal questions in return, either about Vagari culture or about Dylori herself. Dylori always answered Arias’ questions, probably hoping it would make Arias open up.
“What’s the story behind the scar on your cheek?” Arias said, tapping her own. “A Divus could’ve healed that easily.”
“I got cut up during my first mission where we had to save some innocents from a group of banished folk, and one of them got a hit on me. The Divus in my group wanted to heal me, but I told her to heal the commonfolk. By the time she was done, it had been too long for mine.” Dylori patted her cheek then gave Arais a sharp grin. “I don’t mind. It looks pretty badass.” After a moment of silence, Dylori ventured, “How long have you worked with this organization?”
“How many people have you been in a romantic relationship with?” Arias rested her head in her hand.
“Ten,” Dylori replied, waving her hand and in the same breath she asked, “Is it some religious organization?”
Ten people. Misti’s annoyance grew. Ten! That was too many relationships, especially when Misti had only been in three herself. She rolled her eyes skyward.
Arias smirked. “Are you ever going to settle down?”
“’Course. I’d love to put down some roots.” Dylori’s casual response surprised Misti out of her annoyance. Dylori settle down? She had never once talked about that. Dylori narrowed her eyes. “Where are you based out of?”
“Do you want to settle down in your desert hometown with your family?” Arias asked.
“No, but I’d like to visit them sometime. It’s a sunbaked shame I have to be away from them so much.” Dylori’s reply came fast and her next question, even faster. “Who else knows about this organization?”
“What do you most fear?” Arias asked.
Misti arched an eyebrow. The questions were getting more personal. Arias must be getting tired of the pestering. She twirled the woven earring around in her left lobe, something Misti had noticed she did sometimes when she wanted to appear nonchalant.
“Losing touch with my family. Losing Dis. Losing folk I care about. Uncegs since they slither through the sand as if its water and that shouldn’t be possible. Flocks of desert cribs because they swarm like black clouds. I also get a strange rash if I eat raenuts,” Dylori rattled off, and Misti heaved a sigh at the last one.
Dylori had had an allergic reaction to raenuts a few seasons back that made her skin turn pale in patches around her mouth. It was the first time Misti had dealt with allergies, and ever since then Dylori carried around a bundle of cytris to counter such reactions. But her worries about losing touch with her family drew memories to Misti’s mind, pulling her to the past.
“Why haven’t I heard from my family, Misti?” Dylori stalked around in a circle. They were eating dinner in the Three Knives, a pub in Amiin. Well, Misti was eating dinner. Dylori seemed content to pace around their table, sloshing her cider on the benches as she gestured widely to Misti once again.
“I don’t understand. I send them enough letters. Trinkets, too. It’s been three cycles. Three!”
“Maybe they’re moving around, Dylori. Your folk do travel with their herds, so maybe the vulnix carriers have a hard time locating them.” It was a bold-faced lie, but Misti couldn’t risk ruining her surprise. She hid her grin behind her tankard of sarii mead as Dylori threw her a hard look.
“They always move around, and the vulnix have never had trouble before this.” Dylori sank onto the bench and sighed. She scratched her left horn then let her hand fall to the table with a thud. “I just miss them, is all. What if they’re in trouble?”
Some of Misti’s joy melted. It had been a hard couple of cycles for Dylori. She worried about her parents, worried something would happen to them while she and her siblings were gone. To have them not respond to her letters and trinkets—even for a surprise such as this one—must be difficult. Misti put her tankard down and grasped Dylori’s shoulder, giving her a little shake. “I doubt they’re in trouble. Your family can handle themselves. You know this.” She pushed the steaming plate of baked yriis to Dylori. “Eat. We’ll go back to the homebase and I’ll send Zora myself. She can find your family for sure.”
Dylori grumbled over her blue vegetables but ate them anyway. They walked back to the homebase in silence, Dylori muttering and grabbing her horns, fretting about her family. Misti was barely able to contain her glee at what awaited them. Misti let Dylori open the doors to the hall, stepping aside and letting the dawn light spill onto the smiling faces of Dylori’s fathers, sister, and brother. Dylori let out a scream of joy and then rushed to them, throwing herself at them. Grinning, they enveloped her in a big group hug. Misti hung back, watching the happy family reconnect.
After a few moments, Dylori turned to her, beaming. She met the smile with one of her own, laughing at her friend’s shock and joy.
“You knew, didn’t you?” Dylori gestured her over. Tears sparkled in her dark eyes.
“You’re welcome.” Misti clapped Dylori on the shoulder, going over to shake each of Dylori’s fathers’ hands in turn and give her siblings a hug.
“If it’s a religious network, why do you need to keep it a secret? People love Aluriah.” Dylori’s voice pulled Misti back to the present.
“Some things are best kept secret until they need to be revealed. Folk worship other gods and goddesses, not just the sun and moon, so you can’t think my…network…is the only one there is.” Arias gave her a small smile. “Do you still feel badly about killing that young worshipper?”
“Aha! You answered a question!” Dylori jabbed her finger at Arias before leaning forward. “Have you seen anything like the pendant before?”
“You didn’t answer mine,” Arias said, giving her a sharp look.
“Honestly, yes. And I…it’s been making me think about my future.” Dylori paused, chewing on her cheek as if chewing on her next thought. “About who I want to become.”
Even through her annoyance, Misti stared at her friend
. What does she want to become now? Who does she want to be? Misti blinked a couple of times. Who do I want to be?
“Have you seen anything like the pendant before?” Dylori repeated. “Please, just answer that.”
Arias sighed. “No, but there could be more of them out there and if so, we need to know how to stop it.”
“We who?” Dylori’s voice pitched higher, and she threw her hands in the air.
Chuckling, Arias waved her hands in front of Dylori’s face. “You’ll never know…unless I decide you’re worthy of being told.”
“Fine,” Dylori huffed. “If you won’t tell me, can I at least see the sword again?”
Arias drew her sword and handed it to Dylori with a roll of her eyes.
“You should keep the sword if you’re so interested in it,” Arias replied. Misti could tell by the way her eyes lingered on the blade she wasn’t serious.
“It was a gift,” Dylori said. “I’m simply admiring it for a moment. How’s your bow?”
Arias slipped the bow from her back. The metal had a scratch on the front, but Misti didn’t know how.
“It’ll be okay,” Arias said, running her finger over the scratch. “I should’ve been more careful with it. Swinging it like it was some kind of sword when I have a real sword in my belt. I lost my head.”
Swinging it? When had she done that? Misti wondered. “You attacked with it like a sword?”
Arias and Dylori shared a glance and chuckled. “Yes. You fainted after healing Zora,” Arias said, “but the Nemora and the Vagari weren’t quite dead.”
That shocked her. Misti arched an eyebrow at Dylori, who shrugged in response. “I was busy with the Vagari when Arias came barreling around the corner on Dis like a wyvern out of its nest, shouting and waving her arrows around.”
“Yes, that was just the look I was going for.” Arias gave Dylori a mock frown then turned to Misti. “The Nemora was moving even with two arrows in her and…well…panicked. I already had my bow in hand so I stabbed at her with it and smashed into the rock beside the Nemora instead of actually hitting her. I nocked an arrow and finished her off that way.”
“That was some quick thinking. After trying to stab her with it, I mean,” Dylori teased, grinning.
Arias narrowed her eyes. “Thanks, though I don’t want to kill anything else anytime soon. The idea to send Zora to Ingo for help was pretty smart yourself.”
Suddenly, Misti understood how Dylori and Arias had become such fast friends. That kind of experience—quick thinking and bravery in the face of a dangerous fight—would be an instant connection, especially on Dylori’s end. Jealousy surged through Misti. Fast friends, or more than that? She hoped not, especially since Arias seemed to know how Misti felt about Dylori.
“Speaking of…” Dylori nudged Misti and pointed up.
She looked up just in time to see Zora speeding toward her, flaring her wings at the last moment to land gracefully in Misti’s arms. Arias clapped at the display and even Dylori looked impressed, but all Misti could see was the odd twist of Zora’s feathers. She flew fine, but the twisted feathers where the water had hit her bothered Misti to no end. She reached for the wing, but Zora whacked her with her tails and presented her back. Misti unhooked the message pouch and slipped the letter out. A few black rocks fell from the letter but she paid them no mind, skimming her sister’s reply. The answers were exactly what Misti figured, but the speed with which Zora had returned made her curious.
Conscious of the others’ eyes on her, Misti lifted the parchment and said, “It’s from my sister again, just an update on Danill’s schooling. But my family is a crescent away as the vulnix flies. I sent the letter four nights ago. How’d Zora get there and back so fast?”
Dylori shrugged. “You always said she was super fast. Maybe she just proved it.”
“Maybe you found a strong wind current?” Arias smiled at Zora the way a person might at a child, her voice lifting to a higher pitch as she petted Zora’s back. She glanced at Misti. “Why don’t you just ask her?”
Dipping into her crafting, orange tinted her vision and she ran her fingers down Zora’s nose and over her forehead before scratching her behind the ears. “Did you have any trouble getting my letter to Char?”
Zora’s answer came slowly, as if through honey. “I had no issues. Though it felt like over a crescent rather than four nights.”
That seemed odd. Vulnixes were chosen as messengers for their innate sense of direction and their ability to find anyone, anywhere, anytime. They always knew exactly how long it would take to deliver a message there and back again. Like a neades’ ground-breaking roar, it was part of their being.
“Are my family members in Northtown?”
Zora had to think for a long time, and at first her only answer was darkness. Confusion came over their connection next. Confusion. Then panic. Misti had never sensed that from Zora after a flight before. Her vulnix began to shake in her arms.
“I…I do not know.” Zora curled up against Misti’s chest, tucking her wings tight against her body and her tails tight against her nose. Her ears flattened. “I do not know where I flew. I know I met your sister. I know I delivered your letter. But there is only darkness where there should be more. Much more.”
A sense of dread filled Misti, her heart quickening. A flash of the vulnix hanging, dripping blood, during her parents’ ritual rose in her mind, but she pushed it away. Anger built in her anyway, burning away the dread. My parents must’ve done something to her. With that thought firmly entrenched in her mind, she pushed as much calmness as she could over their connection and eased herself out of it. The anger felt like her own, but not her own. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she should be wary of this strange fury, but she didn’t listen to that part of herself. She couldn’t. Not now. Not with Zora like this.
Dylori’s hand was on her shoulder at once. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Misti said, with such vehemence that Dylori drew away, and Arias’ eyes widened. “Nothing. Don’t ask me again.”
Holding Zora protectively in her arms, she refused to talk to her friends for the rest of the day. She knew they wouldn’t understand. No one would understand. No one could help her.
That dawn Misti stayed far away from the others, carrying Zora to a particularly large boulder and setting her bedroll down next to it. She let Zora curl up there, stroking her fur and feathers, trying to calm her shaking vulnix down. What had happened to her on the flight? What did my parents do to her? And how can I help if I don’t understand what they did? The disheveled mark on Zora’s wing, the one from the Nemora worshipper, captured her gaze, giving her a renewed sense of purpose. She’d finish fixing the feathers without her crafting, like Zora had asked.
Gently pulling the wing into her lap, Misti ran a finger down the disheveled feathers. Two of them had barbs that had been twisted a little, one feather stuck out at on odd angle, and the surrounding feathers seemed overly dry. Misti ran her nail over the twisted barbs, straightening them once again into a smooth, even surface. She nudged the feather that stuck out back into place and smoothed it down as well. Reaching into the pouch on her belt, she brought out a small case of feather oil, an odorless, clear substance birds used to condition and waterproof their wings. She rubbed some on the tips of her fingers and spread it onto the feathers surrounding the spot, then on the rest of the wing. As Misti tended to her, Zora’s quivering slowly ceased. Her wings now looked shiny and healthier than ever before, the disheveled mark from the Nemora completely gone.
“That better, girl?” Misti whispered, scratching her vulnix’s chin.
Zora responded with a gentle headbutt to her palm and went to sleep.
Chuckling, Misti settled down as well, curled up close to Zora. A part of Misti knew she should be worried. Her companion animal was close to the pendant around her neck. But she knew she could protect her Zora from the pendant, could absorb any pulses like she had done before. She felt a littl
e calmer, and when the pendant throbbed soon after, she drew the power in without a second thought.
***
They had decided to travel during the day to reach Laidly Grove sooner. When the rocks underfoot turned into dirt and then colorful pebbles and brown sand, Misti knew they had reached the Laidly Grove. Her friends had honored her request and left her alone, whispering to themselves while Misti stewed, but the sight of this place charged the air between them with excitement.
Arias got off Dis’ back, took her boots off, and stuck her toes in the sand. She picked up a handful of blue and green pebbles. “These would look great set into bowls or mugs.” She tucked them into her pouch and glanced up at Misti and Dylori. “As a memory of this place.”
The pebbles and sand continued for a little while longer, but once they reached the salttrees, with their pale white bark and clear crystalized leaves, they knew the lake wasn’t far. Here, even Dylori and Misti walked. Even in all their travels as Moon Knights, they had never made it to Laidly Grove, and they didn’t want to miss a moment of it. Dis walked behind them at a slow pace, trying his best not to knock into any of the salttrees. Zora remained on Dis’ back, curled up but eyes wide, taking everything in.
The salttrees towered over them, their leaves sparkling in the light. Some of their leaves had fallen off and Misti made sure to step carefully around them. The salttrees were rare, only found in the Laidly Grove, and highly protected by the Laidly Nemora. Their leaves would carry quite a price in any big city. Dylori plucked a few of the leaves off the ground and slipped them into her bag.
“It’s not like I snatched it from the tree,” she said defensively, when Misti frowned at her. She winked at Arias. “I want it as a memory of this place.”
Arias pursed her lips. “Not as something to be sold later on?”
Dylori gasped and put a hand to her chest. “Never!”
Even though annoyance filtered through her system, Misti smiled when she saw the Laidly Grove Lake, glimmering as far as the eye could see. Rocks dotted the surface of the water, creating natural seats and tables for the Nemora who lived nearby. Waves so clear they could easily see the colorful pebbles beneath washed gently onto the shore. The clear water transitioned into a vibrant blue, and then transitioned again into a darker blue beyond that.
Sunkissed Feathers & Severed Ties Page 20