Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1)

by Jonathan Michael

  Nearly every day for a score of days now, I have visited the crossing, and without any progress. I’ve ventured northeast and southwest to settle my doubts this isn’t just some ruse Graytu manifested. There must be some other way up this wall, but I haven’t found it yet. I will continue to work at the riddle of the crossing for now, but I may have to deem it uncrossable. Is that what father would do? Would he conquer this obstacle, or would he back down and find an alternate route that inevitably gets him closer to his goal?

  “Humiliation is the acorn. You are the squirrel perched in the age-old oak. You can certainly obtain it, yet if you lose it in your haste to bury it, nothing will be gained.” A galling voice calls out that belongs to none other than Graytu. A silhouette stands in the entrance of my hollow.

  “I already know how easy it is to be humiliated. That damned ape made sure of that. And then Zoie, playing games with me among the catwalks. So, what are you jabbering about, and how is it going to help me succeed?”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes,” I reply sharply to crush his doubt. I’m not confident it’ll work, though.

  “You are a tree, soft on the inside and hard on the outside. Learn from that and you will succeed. Use your Instincts. Listen. Your talents are limitless. Today is the day.” He sets down a tray of fruit and nuts. “Eat.” And exits my small hollow.

  Chippie rips from his shoulder and leaps onto the fruit tray. I nearly leap from my linens. My immediate thought to seize him and hurl him outside. He snatches a bushel of grapes and bounds onto my chest. I whip my arms at him, but he’s too quick. He drops the grapes and scurries off. “What was that about?” I mutter to myself.

  I’m coming to understand why Zoie offered me that bow. The villagers are generous in providing sufficient meals every day, but it’s always from a tree or a bush. I can count the steaks I’ve eaten on one hand—even if I were a clumsy butcher who’s taken a few of his own fingers. And on those rare occasions, I’m certain it was an assortment of small rodent—something lesser and filthier than Chippie.

  I recall the words Graytu left me with. His gibberish is irksome and relentless as I continue to hear those same words over and over. Today is the day, he says morning after morning. He has declared it every morning since my arrival. He might believe he’s trying to help, but he’s not. I doubt even he understands the prattle that escapes his tongue. Why is he comparing me to a tree? Maybe Stone was right about me coming here. Am I wasting my time with this hunt for Old Lady Windblown?

  I crawl from my bed of leaves, which is surprisingly comfortable—or maybe it’s just the large quantities of wine I’ve been drinking—and I pull up my trousers and put on my jerkin.

  “A tree…soft on the inside and hard on the outside?” I ponder aloud. True for some maybe, but not the strongest of them. I muse over it long enough to consume the majority of the breakfast tray.

  I mock it, but the fruit tray, full of exotic fruits and nuts, is beyond satisfying. These Redcliffe villagers have only been generous while I take and take. I don’t understand their openhandedness. They have no reason to help me, but they do so willingly.

  After readying myself for the day, I set out to visit a few of the villagers who have befriended me during my time here. Fairview’s treetop abode is my first stop on the far outskirts of the treetop village. I have yet to determine whether that is her surname or her birth name. When we first met, I was too distracted by her personality to inquire about it, and now I feel ashamed to ask. She is an older woman with the spunk of a youth. From what I’ve gathered thus far, she’s a woman capable of enlightenment or destruction from a mere whisper of her tongue. And not a woman I want to show any inadequacies around.

  “Hello, Fairview. I hope the morning hours are treating you well,” I greet her as I rap on the jamb of her open doorway.

  She remains seated in her armchair. Her rust-colored eyes lack their stark emerald sparkle this morning, and the wrinkles around them are hanging heavy. Her silver-white, shoulder-length hair is as brilliant as her youthful smile, which tells me she remains in good health despite her weariness. A woman of her seasoning leaves you wondering which day will be her last.

  “The morning hours are never good to me in my old age. That is, until a bright presence such as yourself shines upon them.”

  She gives an inveigling wink that makes me squirm. Pleasing to the eye roughly eighty seasons ago maybe, but she’s far too old to be acting with the same decorum as an adolescent.

  “So,” she continues, “Goose Greyson, what did I do to deserve your company this morning?”

  “I thought I’d come by to thank you for the nutritious breakfast before suffocating myself within Graytu’s riddles.”

  “There’s no need for thanking. These old bones did none of the picking nor did they make the short trip to deliver them. It was merely a gesture.” She brushes past the topic. “So, you’re back at it, are you? Did Graytu enlighten you with one of his motivational speeches this morning?”

  “I’ll relish the day he doesn’t. He mentioned something about being a tree. And as usual his words mean nothing to me.”

  “Ah. I see. I know the old coot may be taxing at times with the many ramblings that come off his tongue, but Graytu is no fool. He’s a man who only speaks when he has something to say. A man of wisdom…most often. And don’t you go pattering about telling him I spoke of him in such a way. That wouldn’t do me any good. I’d have to retrain him all over, and I’m not sure if I have the seasons left to make that happen.” I nod in acknowledgment. “There are times when I feel the need to lay him a good one right upside his squirrely head, but that’s typical with any man, I suppose. If I can give you a word of my own wisdom, don’t piss him off again.”

  “Graytu? Is he angry with me?”

  “No. Of course not. For as old as he is, you’d think he’d learn to fit his role and be old and crotchety, but no. Graytu doesn’t understand what anger is. The Redcliffe Guardian, however… An ape, yes, but he is one of our own. If you force us to choose between the two of you, you won’t like the decision.” She pauses momentarily while I try to take in what she’s saying. “Well…I am not a selfish woman. I can see you have a busy day ahead of you, so as much as I enjoy your company and your flirtatious behavior, I think you best be on your way. My students are beginning to arrive anyways.”

  “Flirtatious behavior?” My brow creases as I run my fingers through my hair, scratching at my scalp. She may be as mad as Graytu. A few little ones rustle past me and plop themselves on the ground in front of Fairview. She greets them with a joyous smile and laughter.

  With only a moment’s passing, she acts surprised to see me lingering. “Go now. You have much to do,” she says and gestures for me to move along with a few forceful waves of her arms. Rather than argue, I follow her instruction.

  Instead of heading to the crossing, I first seek out another villager I feel obligated to greet daily. The village is remarkably robust for being spread amongst the canopy of the forest, but I’m able to locate her without waste. After visiting her hollow and the village commons without luck, I find her at the range alongside a few of the Redcliffe Warriors. Even in the short time I’ve known her, I feel ashamed for not searching here first.

  “Good morning, Zoie. How’s your aim today?”

  “An insult to start the day?” she scoffs at me. “Why do I deserve such a greeting? I could split the hairs on a squirrel’s tail. Would you expect anything less of me?”

  “Of course not.” I smile and ruffle her hair. She forces my hand away.

  Her spunk and her physical features are too similar to Jay’s. Short, dark-brown hair that remains unkempt unless an elder has combed their fingers through it, a beautiful smile that contrasts her dark features wonderfully, and a lanky, petite frame that doesn’t appear worthy of handling a bow. I expect to see radiant amber every time I look into her eyes, but Zoie’s are quite opposite being forest green. A beautiful girl, nonetheless, just l
ike Jay.

  “How’s the bow working for you? Have you managed to bring home any dinner yet?” she asks.

  Zoie’s gift to me is another example of the generosity that plagues this village. However, I soon discovered her gift was more than I anticipated. Every moment I’m not at the crossing, Zoie has been by my side. She eats with me. She’s by my side at the ever-recurring evening festivities. I even meandered through the intertwining bridges aimlessly one day, thinking she would trail off, but she kept right by my side. I’m sure she’d follow me to my sleeping quarters if I allowed it. I rather enjoy her company, though, despite the lack of freedom she awards me. The familiarity she brings is comforting.

  “The bow is fantastic, but I haven’t had the time.”

  “Sounds like tiger dung to me. How ‘bout right now? It’s yet early enough to get something more than a lousy hare or a few squirrels. Don’t tell Graytu I said that,” she adds quickly.

  I find her resistance to her authorities amusing.

  “You know I would love a hunt, but I have responsibilities, Zoie.”

  “Stop being a Sheela. You think climbing a cliff is a responsibility? Killing a doe to feed your family is a responsibility. C’mon. Let’s go kill a doe.”

  “Zoie, I don’t expect you to understand, but scaling that cliff is a means for my family to be free. I must figure out how to conquer it, and Graytu has repeatedly made it clear I must do it on my own. Believe me, I would much rather kill a doe, but I need to do this. How about this evening? Deal?”

  “Yeah, I guess I understand.”

  “Give me half the day to do what I need, then I’m all yours.”

  “This evening, then! You promise?” Zoie perks up again.

  “Yeah, I promise.”

  “You should always be equipped with your bow, you know. Especially when tramping through the wood. You never know when you’re going to need it. Dinner could be just on the grey side of the bark.”

  Zoie embraces me around the waist then grabs her yew bow and runs off.

  I drop below to the forest floor and make way to the crossing. I get comfortable on a little ledge that has become my typical lookout.

  I’m not too familiar with this course of action—planning out my next act. Stone is the man you’d find sitting on a pondering rock, not me. But I don’t have much of a choice. My impulses give me nothing here. I’ve always relied on instinct, but what instinct is there to be had here? It’s intolerable.

  The sun has risen high enough to penetrate deep into the ravine, revealing the intricacies and deformations of the wall. I have mapped out a path to reach the top. The way is clear. It won’t be easy, but I can handle it. I just need to determine how to cross the crossing. Ugh…why don’t they build a bridge? I would, but that damned ape won’t let me close to his tree. And there isn’t another tree close enough to the ravine to span the distance. I’ve checked.

  The figs remain plentiful on Coloss’ tree, and his kin are gallivanting amongst it. It brings me back to my childhood when my friends and I would climb the irrigation windmills. We would race to the top, weaving in and out of the blockades, and the first to touch a blade of the windmill was the winner. If my father had ever found out, the punishment would have been severe. The apes differ in that they live a life free of responsibility and caution. They enjoy simple pleasures and have nothing to fear with the dominance of Coloss protecting them.

  Coloss, however, doesn’t join in. He’s a solid, dark, immobile figure planted in the tree. He stares into oblivion, pondering and unaware of his surroundings, but my instincts tell me he is acutely aware of everything around him. The whites of his eyes shift, and he calmly looks at me. I don’t know how he does it. A hardened branch in a gentle wind would create more movement than I am right now, but somehow, he knows I’m sitting here watching. Somehow, he knows I am watching him specifically.

  I hear a voice but not with my ears. It’s more of an unusual sensation that I, by some means, translate into the remnants of syllables. I can’t quite make out what it’s saying or where it’s coming from. Maybe I’m spending too much time with Chief Graytu. Soon I’ll be talking to the squirrels.

  I remain on my perch for some time, observing the simians while they enjoy themselves, and I ponder the possibilities—dreading every moment of it.

  A tree…soft on the inside…hard on the outside, he said. More like hard on the inside and soft on the outside, I would think. A tree is rigid and stout but giving with its bountiful fruit. Like the fig tree down below. Parallel to the Redcliffe villagers. Coincidence? They have a solid culture, strong and resilient, but they are so generous and nourishing. But how does it tie to the crossing?

  And Coloss? He and his tree have something to do with getting to the top of that damned wall, but what? Coloss won’t let me touch the tree, and besides that, it isn’t near large enough to reach the top of the wall. Only the Sprhowts of the Old Races had the ability to manipulate an entire tree to grow so tall. Maybe that’s why Graytu thinks me capable. Because I’m a Sprhowt. Could it be he believes I have the potential of the Old Races? The worthy? I need to get closer to Coloss. My instincts tell me he’s the only way I’ll find out.

  The villagers are strong and nourishing; the fig tree is strong and nourishing; the simians are strong and nourishing. A trend.

  I retreat to the village and use one of their many living ladders to gain access. Then I head straight for Fairview’s hollow.

  “Eh…eh…excuse me, Lady Fairview,” I stutter between my heavy breathing.

  “Lady, I’m not. It’s just Fairview, thank you.” She looks up at me with delight. “I must have pleased Susy to deserve two visits from my favorite drifter in one day. What’s the rush, young man? Have you lost your way?”

  “I think we both know I’ve lost my way. I don’t mean to interrupt, but…I know…” I take a pause to catch my breath.

  “You know what? I am pleased to have your company, but spit it out. My seasons are steadily coming to an end, and the children here don’t have the patience.” All the children sit with their legs crossed and necks twisted to see who’s responsible for the interruption.

  “I know you have already been so kind and generous to me, but can I ask a favor of you?”

  “Of course. You need not request permission. I may be old and cranky, but my heart hasn’t shriveled into a black prune. Of course, I’ll help you. What do you need, Goose?”

  “I need to get my hands on another tray of fruit and nuts.”

  “Ha. Is that all? We have plenty of that around here. In fact, the grove isn’t too far. The trees are well fertilized and abundant with a variety of fruits and the like. Anytime. Gather what you desire. It’s free for the taking.”

  “Thank you so much, Fairview. I owe you.”

  “You owe me nothing. Children, who does our hurried friend here owe?”

  “Azure!” Several children call out at once while a handful of others call out the name Susy.

  “To claim it as our own would be naïve and selfish,” Fairview continues. “We understand Azure has been generous enough to provide it to us. And by ‘us,’ I mean all the inhabitants of this world. Please, go and nourish yourself as you desire. You owe Susy for the seasons and Azure for the nourishment. They are the ones who have blessed us with the nourishing soils and healthy orchards.”

  “Thank you for informing me, then,” I reply, unconvinced of the matter.

  “You are very welcome, lad.”

  I turn to dash away but realize I have no clue as to its whereabouts. “Umm…one more thing, Fairview…”

  “Take the arborcar. Zoie will guide you. She’s already come about looking for you. I’m sure she’d be delighted to show you the way.”

  “Thank you again.”

  Zoie is easy to find. A quick dash to the range, and there she is.

  “You know there’s such a thing as too much practice,” I say as she’s loosing her arrow. She doesn’t flinch as I intend. The waterm
elon dressed in antlers is pierced directly in the center. “Nicely done.”

  “I don’t miss,” she retorts while giving me a solid thump in the gut with the butt of her bow.

  “I can see that.” I cough up the response as I massage my abdomen.

  “So, are you ready now?”

  “Not quite,” I reply with reluctance, anticipating another blow. It doesn’t come. “I’m trying to find the grove.”

  “What do I look like, a gatherer? I don’t pick berries. I kill my food.”

  She jabs her bow at me again. This time I seize it but not too aggressive as to offend her. Just enough to show an inkling of authority.

  “I’m aware of that, but I’m not seeking out the grove for myself. I’m looking to share with another. Someone who I think would be appreciative of the act.”

  “So, you’re trying to bribe someone, then?” she clarifies.

  “Well…that’s not the way I see it, but I suppose so. I like to think of it as practice.”

  “Practicing what? Your persuasion tactics?”

  “No, my generosity. Why so many questions? Will you show me the way or not?” I reply with a hint of aggravation.

  “Yes. I’m just angry you blew me off this morning. Now you suffer the consequences of a sour start to my day.”

  Her face twists with irritation as a rather large grin spreads across my face. Then I suffer another spirited nudge in the gut. She pretends like it was an accident while hoisting her bow over her shoulder.

  “Suffer I will, if you help me.” I remain hunched, attempting to relinquish the pain. Regardless of the hurt she inflicts, she puts a smile on my face. Her flaring immaturity and need for drama are quite amusing and…too familiar. I miss Jay. And Stone.

  Aside from the plethora of organic bridges and ziplines interconnecting the mass of their village, they’ve integrated a faster mode of travel for more than a single individual. The various outbuildings and hollows throughout the village finger out across a large portion of the canopy and to cover the distance from one end to the other could take all morning using solely the organic infrastructure. The zip lines are a bit faster but arduous with sending the mechanism back and forth if more than a single person is traveling. So, in addition to the bridges and ziplines, they’ve manifested some type of flying carriage they refer to as an arborcar. It’s essentially a large wooden plank box attached to a reinforced zipline, and it allows for multiple people to step aboard.