Claimed: (The Land of Schism Book 1) Epic Fantasy Novel for Young and New Adults

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Claimed: (The Land of Schism Book 1) Epic Fantasy Novel for Young and New Adults Page 18

by Nicole Adamz


  “Stop being a rain cloud on a sunny day. I’ve met Davin several times, and nothing unpleasant has happened. I don’t know why you would think such a thing,” she said. But her voice was tinged with apprehension. Hope fluttered in my chest. Maybe I can convince her not to go. I scratched on the parchment again.

  “Where are we meeting him?” Guilt flashed in her eyes, gone in a blink, and I knew. She doesn’t want to tell me.

  “He’s being careful! What’s wrong? Don’t you want to have fun?” Maewyn demanded indignantly.

  My stylus sped across the parchment in frustration. “This doesn’t feel like fun. It feels like something is wrong.”

  “How can anything be wrong? He’s been a perfect gentleman.”

  “You don’t know him!”

  Maewyn’s expression turned hard and distant, “But you do? You don’t have to come—I’ll go by myself.”

  I began scratching another message, but Maewyn’s words halted me, “You think following the rules will win you acceptance and love, but it won’t! You’re so worried about what other people think you don’t have time for anything else—even being a friend,” Maewyn said, her voice thick with disdain.

  A small, incoherent sound escaped my lips at her cruelty, and pain immediately seared my throat like fire. Maewyn tilted forward in concern but glanced at the parchment. Her full lips thinned angrily, and she turned away.

  “I need you to be my friend, Ari. Not my caretaker. Not my Tyro. My friend,” Maewyn said in a tight voice. I watched, miserable, as she walked into her room and closed the door with a thud.

  Deep, steadying breaths eased the pain in my throat, and I released the back of the couch, slowly walking to my room. It was hard to believe that with a few words I’d wiped away Maewyn’s smiling face. I’m trying to be a friend by warning her. Why doesn’t she see that?

  I sat on the edge of my bed and glanced at the parchment clutched in my hand, crumpling it. Distressed, I threw it toward the stove in the corner. Maybe I’m overreacting. Surely one meeting isn’t enough to determine character. I haven’t given Davin the benefit of the doubt.

  I flopped onto the bed and unhappily contemplated the turn of events. The thrum of assaulted harp strings seeped through the walls, and I turned toward them. I wondered what images Maewyn was conjuring and decided it was best I didn’t know. Am I being unreasonable?

  Following the rules is easy, but do I follow them to be accepted? I pondered this. I suppose it could be true. I don’t know who I am without rules. Maybe following them is a way for me to hide my differences. I rolled onto my stomach with a discontented sigh, pondering the Old Traditions. Is that why I follow them too? Searching my heart, I wasn’t sure of the answer. Following the Old Traditions divided me from my peers more than my eye-color, but the old ways weren’t wrong. Were they?

  My stomach growled, but the thought of going to the feast hall wasn’t pleasant. There would be a crowd, and I could run into Caelum Pearl. I owed Maewyn a lot for taking up for me. She was a good friend, and I was arguing with her over something she wanted to do. There isn’t any harm in tagging along...is there? The unpleasant hum telling me something was wrong didn’t go away.

  I should go, I sighed. Jerking from the bed, I walked to my desk. Blotches of ink spilled onto parchment. I can’t let Maewyn go alone when my gut is telling me something is wrong.

  I blew on the ink and carried it to Maewyn’s door, slipping it under the crack. The angry strum of the harp halted, and steps pattered to the door. There was a pause before Maewyn flung it open, enveloping me in a cocoon of gaiety.

  “Thank you, Ari,” she said, “Davin didn’t want to meet without you there.”

  The hair on my arms prickled. Why would I need to be there? I wanted to grill Maewyn about her statement but knew she wouldn’t give me an answer. Just like she wouldn’t tell me where we were meeting. I forced a smile.

  “I know you want to wear your uniform, but what if I lent you some jewels? Then you’ll look pretty too,” she said jovially.

  An entire chest of jewels wouldn’t make me pretty, and I wouldn’t waste them on Davin. Not wanting to ruin the tentative peace bought with my capitulation, I grit my teeth and nodded. Maewyn’s squeal would have been amusing if I wasn’t so alarmed. Something is wrong, wormed into my mind. My stomach tightened.

  “This will be fun, I promise!” Maewyn exclaimed in a sing-song tone, but a false note rang beneath the words.

  Fun, I thought. Sure. The hair on my arms was still standing when Maewyn draped a cold chain around my neck. The heavy metal felt like grasping fingers as ‘something is wrong’ pounded against my mind.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  The amber runes beneath my skin flickered, slowly fading while my reedy breathing steadied in the quiet room. Sweat trickled down my temples. Sighing irritably, I got out of bed. Beginning the day with a nightmare again—great. I bent over the basin, splashing my face with frigid water before pausing. Are they nightmares?

  They feel more like a warning—and a promise. My icy fingers washed away the stench of sweat and fear, the cold cloth moving swiftly over my goose-fleshed skin. I layered myself in my brown, woolen uniform. The one Maewyn hated most.

  Oh, well, I shrugged. It’s clean. A cream wool vest completed the ensemble and I paused when my fingers brushed the pendant hanging around my throat. Instead of putting it safely in my sachet I left it tucked beneath my tunic, needing the comfort it gave me. I touched it before leaving my room. True One, protect us.

  The common area was alive with noise, and I winced at Maewyn’s chirpiness. She hummed and chittered, clutching a few dresses in her arms. Skies, it’s too early to be so happy, I grumbled. Maewyn paused, raising an eyebrow at my uniform before resuming her antics.

  Her return to normalcy was a comfort, but uneasiness crawled beneath my skin. My gut pinched; a reminder of the time. Time for breakfast, I sighed, walking out of the suite. With classes finished for the year, the feast hall brimmed with an overbearing number of people. I’d finally stopped receiving disgruntled glowers from other Caelum, but I wasn’t comfortable.

  Examining the buffet, I noticed the food was slightly less abundant. I piled a platter with a good helping of warm, seeded bread drizzled in honey. An Anomaly skirted around me with an armful of dirty dishes for the kitchen. It was a reminder to send Zora dosh I didn’t have. Someone bumped into me hard, and I clutched my tray, beating down the panic strumming my nerves. I shouldn’t have let my guard down. Cautiously looking over my shoulder, I was surprised to meet Docent Pickwickian’s amused gaze.

  The ‘hallucination’ incident in the Great Library was still unaddressed. Because I’ve avoided him, I admitted, tensing under his scrutiny. I preferred our silence on the topic stay that way, and I nonchalantly tried to hurry. Snatching a handful of crisp bacon, I shoved a piece in my mouth. Docent Pickwickian coughed, and I tensed. Is he going to mention what happened?

  “Your term paper was a disappointment, Ari. It was completely average.” Docent Pickwickian said, peering at me beneath bushy brows. Panicked, I painfully swallowed the crunchy bacon.

  “However,” Docent Pickwickian continued, “you provided a wealth of new information regarding the Collective Renewal for the Ward Barrier. Which has changed, it seems.”

  I waited, holding my breath.

  “It was because of that information you passed my class,” he finished.

  A huff of air escaped my lungs in a relieved whoosh.

  “Although, if you have questions about the tomes you haven’t returned, I can help you,” Docent Pickwickian said, glancing away at my puzzled look.

  I nodded vaguely, preparing to leave. Conversations with people I didn’t know were always awkward. And one-sided conversations are worse. Caelum Pearl entered with her entourage, and I glanced away, resisting the urge to stick my tongue out at her sneer. It would give her more fodder for that windbag mouth of hers.

  I clenched my hands around the platter and determined
ly moved into the hallway. Maewyn was digging through her armoire when I walked in. An entirely new wardrobe now replaced the one she’d inexplicably burned and trashed. She still hadn’t explained that event. There’s a lot she hasn’t explained, I realized.

  She’d tell me if it was important, wouldn’t she? I bit my lip, trying not to think about the answer to that question. Maewyn’s humming floated in the air and I set the breakfast tray on the table in the galley, humming along in my mind. I know this song. An incomplete, hazy memory of dark, curling hair and olive skin surfaced. Did Zora sing it to me as a fledgling? I shrugged, letting the thought go.

  The sun crept over the city, slowly edging toward evening. The jittering hum of alarm in the back of my mind had my nerves on edge all day. Maewyn sponge bathed in her favorite scented oil, favoring convenience over a tedious bath for this meeting. Thank the True One, I thought. If I’d had to fill the bath with hot water for a meeting with Davin, we would’ve had another disagreement.

  Maewyn’s snow-white hands sifted through a rainbow of jewels in her small, gilded chest. She pulled out several pieces, holding them against her neck, and I glanced uneasily at her outfit. The hunter green one piece was scandalously revealing. The material is almost nonexistent. Castia’s creation, I’m sure, I thought scathingly.

  The diamond necklace Maewyn chose cascaded down her exposed skin like a sparkling waterfall. As if that area needs more attention, I scoffed. Embarrassed for her, I looked away. Those who worship Aeolus wear revealing clothes, offering their bodies on the altar of self-gratification. Attention and status validate their existence while hiding their insecurities. Maewyn worships the Usurper, but she’s never worn something this revealing.

  Thank the True One Tyro uniforms abide by Old Traditions and are modest. I looked down at my small, heavily covered chest mockingly. Although, I wouldn’t mind being blessed with more curves.

  Maewyn tossed her hair over her shoulders in a silent command, and I braided it into a flowing arrangement down her back. When I finished, she pulled a gold chain with tiny, glinting emeralds from her jewelry box.

  “I think this will enhance the hideous Tyro uniform you chose to wear despite my advice,” she said tartly.

  Advice, I thought sarcastically. Yeah, right. A cruel retort crept through my mind, but I cut it off. Maewyn hooked the heavy chain around my neck, and the emeralds settled at the top of my tunic. Despite my discomfort, my face was placid. It feels like an invisible hand around my neck. I suppressed a shudder; it was a disturbing thought.

  “There,” Maewyn said, cheerfully positioning me in front of the mirror, “that looks better. What do you think?”

  The smooth glass reflected an odd-looking, towering figure. The contrast between me and Maewyn was painfully obvious, and a small pang of envy squeezed my heart. What a useless feeling for something that can’t be changed. Pushing the feeling aside, I forced a smile and turned away. It doesn’t matter. I’m never the main attraction anyway.

  Maewyn scooped a small, silken sachet of dosh from her bed and flounced out of the room. Grabbing a white ermine lined silver cloak from Maewyn’s armoire, I followed her. She frowned heavily at it.

  “Oh no,” Maewyn said when I held the cloak out, “I’m not wearing that. It’ll cover my outfit! I’ll be warm once we get there.”

  It’s Rime. Unless you want to be an icicle you need to be covered. At least, until we get there. Maewyn pouted at my steady, uncompromising look. I’d capitulated to accompanying her, so I wasn’t budging on the cloak—and she knew it. Maewyn’s health was my responsibility as her Tyro.

  “Fine,” she snapped petulantly, slipping the cloak on.

  I was clasping my cloak when Maewyn walked out the door, disappearing down the hallway. Frowning irritably, I caught up with her at Ascension’s doors. The dusky pink sky was fading, beckoning revelers to the Main Holding for the weaving, aerial dances above the early bonfires lit for Annul. I wonder if someone will accidentally set themselves on fire again.

  Annul is always a hectic celebration of regret for one year, and burgeoning hope for the next. Glancing at Maewyn, I noticed a feverish gleam in her eyes. The nagging worry sidled through my mind, whispering ‘something is wrong’.

  Shoving it away, I stretched my wings on the balcony and focused on wind patterns. Maewyn burst into the sky, motioning for me to follow. An uncomfortable sensation settled in my stomach when I lifted into the air. Ignoring it, I sedately followed Maewyn and watched her consult a map. After a few wingspans she adjusted our direction.

  The Rime air bit harshly at my face, increasing my annoyance at Maewyn’s rush out the door. Gloves, scarves, and provisions. I forgot them all, I huffed crossly. Dark clouds gathered in the fading, dusty light. Pausing when Maewyn checked the map again, I surveyed our surroundings.

  It was hard to orient myself in the dusky sky. I don’t think I’ve been on this side of Summit before, and the air has a heavy, brittle feel. It’ll snow soon, I thought with concern. When Maewyn darted from the sky, quickly descending into the gloom below, I panicked.

  Flying after her, I noticed weak, guttering lights spilling onto dirty streets from cracked windows, and squat, thrown-together buildings looming closer. Is this…Larrikin? I thought, alarmed.

  Hesitating, I lost sight of Maewyn when she descended into a shadowy street. My heart contracted fearfully at the lack of landing areas. It was the only Holding that didn’t have them. There wouldn’t be. Only non-service and malformed Anomalies roamed the streets of Larrikin.

  Niles and I had flown over it many times on our way to the secret spot, and he’d warned me to stay away. No respectable Elysian went to Larrikin. For a fee, some Anomalies were available for casual mating. Breaking the Mate-Bond afterward was part of the service fee.

  This is bad, I thought fearfully. Horrible stories of the depravities in this part of the city were whispered about, and I’d ignored them because they never concerned me. Until now. The hair on my arms stood on end, and I dropped the last twenty feet from the air, tucking my wings in closely. I hit the ground with a jarring stop.

  Even with my wings closed my right wing hit something when I landed. The streets weren’t designed for large wings. I winced painfully, whipping my head around to look for Maewyn. Seeing nothing, I stifled the rising panic clawing at my throat, and examined my wing.

  An aged, teetering Anomaly lay in the street. My wing had knocked her flat, upending her tiny, woven basket and its contents onto the ground. Dark, shriveled objects squished beneath my feet when I shifted, and I almost gagged at the stench. Rotting slime coated my boots.

  “Watch where you’re going!” the woman screeched, glaring.

  The Anomaly levered herself up on bony limbs, placing the mushed contents into the basket. She spat on me. Surprised, I stared at her angrily. I wanted to walk away from the stench and the situation, but I was concerned.

  The shriveled woman hurriedly scooped the rotting food back into her basket, unmindful of the dirt that went with it. Should I check her for injuries? I don’t want to touch her, and she seems fine…

  “My dinner just had to be touched by one of you,” she mumbled, ambling away, “I knew today was going to be a bad day when I woke up with aching bones.”

  Shuddering, I cautiously continued down the dirt path looking for Maewyn. Pity and revulsion prevented me from looking closely at the skulking, huddled forms in the shadows. Hurrying by, I tried to ignore the poverty surrounding me. Caelum are supposed to help all citizens of Summit, and yet…Larrikin exists. Anomalies aren’t considered citizens, but aren’t they? They’re still part of the city, and Zora is more like family than my own father and sister. Surely, something can be done.

  Tossing my hood up to become invisible here was an impossible task when my boots crunched in the Rime-frost hugging the muck. Fragmented worry and fear filled my mind while I hurried to the end of the street and turned a corner. I need to find Maewyn, I thought frantically. It was obvious we di
dn’t belong here, and that would make us targets. Where is she? We shouldn’t be here! Surely, she didn’t agree to meet here.

  A door banged open ahead, spilling light onto the shadowed street, and a man staggered out. “Woo, I’m flying high tonight!” he crowed toward the sky, giggling.

  His bulky form took up the narrow road, so I pressed against the dry, dirty wall of the closest building, waiting for him to choose a direction. In the dim light I could barely discern the familiar color of his uniform. A Warder!

  Hope bloomed in my chest. Maybe he can help me! I stepped forward before realizing the man was drunk. Niles’s warning clanged through my mind. No one respectable goes to Larrikin. I’m in Larrikin by accident, but I doubt he got here the same way, I thought warily.

  The man hitched up his pants between giggles, tossing a dosh toward the entrance. “Thanks, little bird,” he slurred, “I’ll be back on my next leave, okay? ‘Cause you’re a pretty, pretty little bird.”

  He weaved down the street ahead of me, his high-pitched giggling echoing in his wake. I sighed in relief. Pushing away from the wall, I cautiously stepped forward when a slender arm pierced the darkness. Halting, I watched it reach for the dosh, slowly scooping it up. I couldn’t skirt around the feeble light cracking jaggedly across the street, so I waited for the door to close.

  “I can’t believe I have to deal with filth like that,” murmured a silken voice. I raised my brows at the loathing in the words. Filth?

  Cloaked in shadow, I peered into the building. A porcelain skinned Anomaly with golden hair and small, twisted wings framed the doorway. A flimsy, bright red dress hugged her frame, leaving no doubt about the assets she sold.

  Her shadowed face turned, slowly closing the door. The light receded, and I edged by the door. Before it clicked shut a husky voice said, “Don’t worry, Emaji. It might be your turn next.”

  I hurried down the street. Conscious that I was heading in the same direction as the Warder, and hoping he’d flown away. Where is Maewyn? Did I land in the wrong area? Frustration and fear wound around me, tightening with every step.

 

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