Just as the door is about to click shut, it pauses and creaks open. Ellia pokes her head through, standing in the doorway without fully entering my chamber. “Yes, sir?” she replies dutifully.
“Ellia, I have a task for you. One you might find rather entertaining.” I put my hand up to gesture for her to come in and wait while I finish with Jaymes. She enters the room, shuts the door behind her, and waits attentively right beside the door.
“Jaymes, remember what I said about Stone. As you know, I’m capable of some intolerable acts myself, so do as you’re instructed and we’ll get through this ridiculous game we’re engaged in, in which we are all pawns.” I stand. Jaymes follows suit without me having to command it. I feel a bit of gratitude toward her. “And, Jaymes, you are my next move. You can find me tomorrow evening in your usual spot.” I gesture to the sun patio outside my chamber. “Now, please see yourself out.” And I point to the exit. When the door clicks behind her, Ellia approaches.
The following day, I wait at the entrance of my lesson chamber as the students fill in. As each student approaches from down the corridor—once they realize they are within my line of vision—a smile fades and they walk tall with hands by their sides or crossed behind their backs. Stone is an exception. He never has a smile to begin with nor is he harassing any of the ladies in the hall nor cavorting with any friends. He appears to always be walking tall and alert, even when he doesn’t know I’m watching.
When Stone arrives, I stop him from entering. “Elder, may I have a word?” He’s on guard. Because of the unanticipated stop, not because it’s me who stopped him. And, like always, he has that unrelenting anger in his eyes when he looks at me. Breathe, Stone. You’re not in danger. His posture softens.
“Yes, sir. Master Martelli, sir,” he replies like a slave.
Is that what I am doing to these students? Making them mere slaves of perfection. Is it so unfathomable to ask for good manners at all times? Sometimes it feels as if I’m merely taking on a parenting role for these damned children. They should be learning these lessons at the dinner table. And this one hasn’t had that luxury for some time, yet he seems to grasp the concept more so than many of the others. It’s a shame his parents had to die. They were raising a son who could have made a great name for himself in this city.
“I’ve been watching you, Elder.” I pause for a long moment, waiting for a reaction. Like his sister, he doesn’t have any strong tells, except for the hate I’m constantly having to subdue. He needs to know the truth. “You have the makings of an Elite in you. I must admit, with your late start on this season’s teachings and your late start all around as a student, I didn’t have high hopes. But you’ve gathered yourself quite well and are excelling at many of your courses. I heard you even earned some bragging rights with a solid blow to the Master of Combat. Not that a man of etiquette would do such a thing, but it’s something I’d like to talk more to you about. I cannot be tardy to my own lesson, so we shall discuss it later tonight. Come to my lounge just before the dinner hour. I will have someone escort you from the Redwood Chamber. Now, please take your seat.”
I stare out my chamber window with my hands on the warmed wooden sill. The sun remains high. I enjoy this season most, I think. Early mornings, longer days, nice warm evenings allowing for a dinner out on the terrace. Some are too hot, but most are just right. It is very romantic. I pick up my tumbler and take a sip. The warm oaken flavor runs past my tongue and down my throat. “Ellia?”
“Yes, sir.” As requested, she’s donning one of her most elegant dresses. Not one I would have her wear if she were a dinner guest of mine, but one I would expect her to wear if she desired a few wandering eyes to find her. Midnight-black, form-fitting with a low back and a teasing slit up the side. And she wears her hair up in an intricate bun, except for a dash of bangs hanging low to conceal her power.
“What season do you enjoy most?”
“Excuse me, sir?”
“Please. Answer the question.”
“I don’t ponder such things, but…” She ponders now. “I suppose Spring, sir.”
“And why is that?”
“New life. It provides opportunity for something better. Opportunity to smother out all that is evil in this world.”
An interesting answer. She doesn’t fear death. She may even be seeking it. She survives because she’s human, and that is what life does. It tries to survive at all cost. She waits for a worthy opponent, though, to take her out of this world. She is the evil that needs smothering. A necessary evil.
I rotate back to the window. “Spring will be here soon enough. Myself, I enjoy the summer heat. No underlying motives that involve cleaning up this world of its filth. I simply enjoy the warmth. And the longer days, I think. The longer days are nice. More opportunity to become who we aspire to be.” I pause and look over my shoulder at her. “For those of us who don’t live in the shadows, of course. Please, have a seat.”
I sit down at my desk. Ellia sits, but she chooses the settee by the hearth, making herself comfortable. A small slight. She takes the opportunities when she can. I rise, giving her a knowing glare, and sit across from her in an armchair.
“Cross your legs, dear.” She sits properly. Another small slight. She knows my expectations. “As I mentioned, I have a menial task for you this evening. But don’t dodge it just yet. It may turn out to be an evening to remember.” She lifts her chin and narrows her eyes. If I were her father, I would be furious with the attire she’s chosen. With her hair up, her neckline reveals too much provocative flesh. But I’m not her father. And tonight, it is what I requested. “This evening, in the hours you work best, you will visit the arena at twilight. You know our prized pupil, Stone McLarin. He is your target tonight. Take him all the way. And don’t be surprised if there are spectators. It is time we stop the charade.”
A knock at the door. “Yes.”
Sasha pokes her head in. I’ve trained her to communicate with her Instincts. Most believe her to be a mere mute servant of mine. Astor thinks her a prisoner, but the knowledge she will leave here with is immeasurable.
“Elder Alderock, sir,” she communicates. I give her a nod. She disappears, and in steps Stone McLarin.
I rise to my feet and greet him properly. “Elder, thank you for joining us.” Ellia glowers at me. I haven’t briefed her on the little game Stone and I are delved into. “Please, have a seat.” I gesture to the settee, next to Ellia.
“Thank you, sir.” There is a slight tremble in his voice.
It takes him a moment upon his approach, but it is apparent when he realizes who Ellia is. A subtle raise of the brow. A quick aversion of the eyes. Humanity speaks so many languages, yet most of us are oblivious to it. He sits on the edge of the settee. Ellia shifts closer, alternating her crossed legs and keeping her eye on him. She’s already begun.
“You’ve met Ellia, no?”
Stone shifts awkwardly. He looks to Ellia, who won’t take her gaze off him, then he looks back to me. “Uh…” he stumbles on his words. “You look familiar,” he says to her. “But…” he shrugs his shoulders. “I…uh…I don’t think we have, sir.”
“Well, then it’s time you’ve met properly. Elder Alderock, this is Ellia Rosewood.” Stone keeps his gaze on me as his head turns, then darts them in line with her. He believes he’s being tested for etiquette. Poor lad. Ellia’s flesh-bait lures him right in. His gaze pauses for just a bit too long, making it obvious.
“Pleased to meet you, Ellia.” He reaches out a hand and bows his head.
“Enough,” Ellia protests and waves Stone’s hand out of the way. “We don’t need formalities.”
Stone looks up. His eyes shift from her to me and back to her. He does think he’s being tested. And he’d be failing.
“Yes, for a woman of your place, grace can be challenging to maintain,” I stab at her. “Ellia, Elder and I have a matter to discuss in private. If you don’t mind.” I rise to my feet. Stone follows suit. Ellia g
lowers at me again. Her gaze shifts to Stone, and she eyes him up and down as she gets to her feet.
“Now you have my name. Put it to use.” Her hand brushes down his cheekbone to his chin. She moves in closer. Pauses. Then heads for the exit.
Her presence demands a certain attention. Stone’s gaze follows her all the way until the door clicks behind her.
“She is a devious one. Very manipulative. Watch out for her.” Stone refocuses his attention back to me. “Sit,” I command, and I take a seat myself. The evening sun finds its way into my chamber. I rise back to my feet and cross the room to open the balcony door. “A warm evening breeze is nice at this hour.” Stone remains silent.
Outside the door, on the balcony, I see two feet shuffle behind the wall. I invited her. I don’t understand her reasoning for stealth. She’s a bit earlier than expected. Maybe she is waiting until I’m done with Stone. She isn’t aware it is him yet, or she’d reveal herself.
“So, Elder…” I pause. “Shall we stop the charades?” Stone’s eyes light up, and he squirms. I sit back down across from him in the black, leather armchair. “Shall we play the roles we’re expected to play instead? You’re the fugitive. I’m the evil tyrant. It is much more exciting than the student and the teacher, don’t you agree?”
“I…I…” he stammers but doesn’t get anything out.
“Don’t worry, Stone.” He squirms again. That is the first time I’ve called him by his given name. It’s subtle, but I just freed myself of a small weight. I don’t enjoy the games. The necessary games to keep balance in this realm. I can sense the same in him.
At the sound of his name, I peek over my shoulder to see if there is a young girl storming in from the balcony. She remains hidden. No matter to me. Whatever reason she has for keeping her secrecy is her own.
“Your execution is not in your future. At least, not by my hand.” I eye him carefully. He remains silent. This is all more than he anticipated. He didn’t intend to come face-to-face with the so-called murderer of his parents without the barrier of our charade to protect him. “Stone, I didn’t summon you to carry out your sentence. I never intended to carry out that sentence. There are some truths to be told. I know you won’t believe me. Not today. You need more evidence, proof of knowledge. But I was not there the day your parents died. Forgive me, I digress. I summoned you here because your talents are…taboo.”
“What?” He speaks in a low voice. He’s likely referring to the day his parents died. I shouldn’t have made the comment. I’m not heading down that road just yet. He also knows he’s different, so in part, his simple, vague question regards his talents too. He’s been looking for answers and hasn’t been finding them. It’s part of the reason he agreed to enroll in my academy. I cannot unfold too much at once. He won’t be able to handle it.
“Well…that is what the mob would refer to them as. I’m sure you’ve heard the blasphemed terms—Shaman, Imp, Grim, Immortal? The Grafts—those who have more than one talent. Or maybe you’ve been away from society long enough that you haven’t. The mob fears them, you know. They have too much power. Most of society doesn’t even know how to use the one talent given to them, let alone two. They fear it, Stone.” He defaults to remaining silent again. He makes for a good listener. Wise. He speaks only when he has something to say. “You must keep this secret for now. There may be a day in your lifetime when you can parade about your talents, but you will get slaughtered if you continue to reveal them. You’re a Lahyf, Stone. That is all. Your only talent is healing. Master Stormwood knows, which is how I found out. But he is one of my own and not to be feared. He has a mature mind about him. And between him and Ellia, we will train you to conceal anything other than your ability to heal.”
“Sir?” he inquires to speak. There is no anger in him right now. His search for the knowledge of who he is overtakes his hatred for me. I nod. “I know of all those terms, sir. But I am not one of them.”
“No, you are not. Are you? You’re something different. In time.” I have him. “Ellia will find you. She will help you control your talent, Stone. Now…” I rise to my feet. “Go. Enjoy your Ironball match this evening.” I wink. His brow wrinkles as he rises to his feet, but he accepts the fact I have knowledge of what is happening within this city. He exits my chamber to where Sasha waits to escort him.
“Okay, dear. You can flee your reconnaissance position now.” For once, her immaturity puts a smile on my face.
Jaymes rises and steps in through the balcony door. “Whatever your plans are with Stone, I don’t care. Just don’t murder him.”
“I don’t believe you, but that is beyond what we need to discuss.” I stroll through the door to the balcony. “Come, I could use some fresh air.”
She follows behind me and stands attentively near the railing. She is a power to reckon with, certainly, and I could easily destroy her with a simple shove. Push her right over the edge to her death. Power is a fabrication of man, just as everything else we perceive. This world is as we see it.
“You were early. But I suppose I didn’t set the expectation, did I?” I place my hands on the rail and look out to the gardens of gloom. “What are you thinking? Why did you not greet your brother? He’s been searching for you for nearly an entire season now. And you hid from him.”
“But has he? I’ve seen him with Astor. I’ve seen him laughing, learning, and enjoying his time here. And now an Ironball match. He has time for an Ironball match while his sister is held captive? He doesn’t care for me anymore.”
“Captive? Hardly. But I see you’ve been sneaking outside the estate walls.” Jaymes tenses. A smile presses into my cheeks. “No surprise, really. I would expect worse with Ellia’s influence. And it’s not as bad as eavesdropping on my conversations.” I turn to face her and narrow my gaze.
“My apologies, sir.”
“It’s not the first time. I doubt it’ll be the last.”
Jaymes won’t make eye contact. Instead, she stares straight forward off into the distance.
“But this isn’t why I summoned you here this evening. I have a task for you. Knowing your level of maturity, it will be more challenging than taking out one of your targets. But you are capable. And you’ll be better off for it. You have a disliking for Astor, no?” I give her a sidelong glance.
She shrugs. “I wouldn’t wish death upon her, sir. But, yes, you could say I dislike her.”
“Find Astor tonight. After their little outing. Take some time to reacquaint if you must, but bring her to Ellia’s chambers around midnight. I have a task for the three of you. Ellia has the details.”
Looking back on the day we arrived, we knew nothing of life. I knew nothing of life. I do not understand why I have remained faithful to this challenge. Obligation maybe. But I am now witness to the gaps that were once invisible. Because they have been backfilled and sowed with new growth I didn’t realize possible.
42 Goose
I sit quietly at the table within my dark hollow. The sun has yet to rise, but I cannot sleep. Nor can I bare to rise and greet the day. My face is buried in my arms. This is all so surreal. Zoie is gone. Is it my fault? I didn’t strike her, but I led her there. She’s gone.
I have been given the pleasure of solitude to mourn and to comprehend the events that took place only days ago. Surprisingly, even Graytu, whom I would’ve expected to be chumming me the following sunrise, has also given me space. I presume all the villagers are mourning the loss of Zoie, themselves. Or are they shunning me? Am I to blame? Her death means more to me than I ever would have anticipated.
What now? Will I ever reach Greybark to find Old Lady Windblown? My entire purpose for coming here is shattered. I may never cross that crossing to gain the knowledge I seek, and I will never be able to confront the Taoiseach. I’m only worse off than when I arrived.
But that is beyond what matters. I disrupted the balance of Redcliffe Village, and more death follows in my wake. I made yet another new family, and now, I’ve destr
oyed that one too. First, my father. Then, Stone and Jaymes. Now Zoie and Graytu. Goose the Home Slayer.
I bury my head deeper into my arms until my forehead plants flat on the table.
“Great morning for a hunt,” a chipper voice calls out.
Flesh sticks to flesh as I peel my face from my arms. There’s a petite shadow leaning against the rounded frame of the opening. It’s difficult to see who it is in a room consumed by darkness.
“C’mon, Sheela. Sun ain’t up yet. But you are. Let’s do this.”
“Zoie?”
“Are you…crying?”
“What? No!” I knock my chair over as I rise to my feet. A passing embarrassment before the reality of who I’m looking at sets in. “How?”
She moves from the doorway and jabs at my gut when she gets close enough. Anticipating her uncouth hello, I brush her jab to the side and wrap my arms around her. I hold her for a long moment with her arms awkwardly bunched tight against her body. Not willing to let go. I hold her until she squirms free.
“What?” Her face is disgruntled as she rears away from me.
“You’re not dead.”
“Of course not.” She moves to jab me again, but I dodge it. A frown curls on her lips. “Why would I be dead?”
“I held your lifeless body in my arms. You were dead.” I know she was dead. I’m not dull. Her body was limp.
“At the crossing?” She ruffles her own hair, not making any visible difference in what was already unkempt and wild. “Didn’t you see the bark chrysalis form around me?”
“Yeah, what of it?” I shrug my shoulders.
“For Susy’s sake. Your knowledge of this world is like a child’s. What do they teach you at that Academy you went to? Are we going for that hunt, or what?”
“I…uh…I…” She’s right back at it. A near-death experience, and all she wants to do is jab and hunt.
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