by Lisa Morrow
After letting those girls get taken, I wasn’t sure what more Blair could put me through.
Regret made my feet drag and our journey long and joyless. Even the many extraordinary temples failed to create even the smallest spark of interest inside of me. Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes when we finally stepped through a gate and into a small courtyard, just off a quiet street.
A unique building loomed over us, looking strangely misshapen. It was as if each floor had been built upon the last, without much concern for whether they matched up. She led us up the steps and inside, to a cozy main room, and then back, to a small dining room. As soon as we sat down, Sura herself brought a dish for each of us, overflowing with tender meat and spicy potatoes.
“The food isn’t quite as good as it is at The Glass Castle, but it’s better than what I’ve eaten most of my life,” Sura explained, nibbling on a thick chunk of beef.
Clarissa gobbled up her food, belched, and stood up. “Can you baby-sit the girl for a little while? I’ve got things to attend to.” She cracked her neck, grinning. “You two should talk. You’d be surprised how much you have in common.”
She didn’t wait for a response. A minute later, she was gone, leaving me alone with the strange girl.
Sura ran a hand through her shoulder-length brown hair. “So—So,” she stuttered. “How long have you been a Protector?”
I took another bite of my food, chewed it slowly, and swallowed before answering. “Not long. You?”
“I was Chosen when I was thirteen,” she said, her brows wrinkling in thought, “so almost a year.”
With food in my belly, and out of the chaos of the streets, I felt better. More in control of myself and my situation. My anger surged back to life.
“And when did you become so heartless?
She laid her fork on her half-eaten plate of food. “It took me some time to accept my fate, but when I did, I was able to make the best of my situation. Now, I’m actually able to do some good here.”
“And, you couldn’t do good without sacrificing those girls?” I stabbed my fork through another piece of meat.
She reached across the table, and much to my surprise, patted my hand. “I do more good here than I ever did in Wintercarve.”
My shoulders tensed. “You’re from Wintercarve?”
Sura smiled. “You’ve heard of it?”
I ignored her question. “Did you know a boy named Asher?”
Her lips pulled into a tight line, and she rose from her chair. “What do you know of him?”
My pulse quickened. “Are you his little sister?”
Sura’s dark eyes bulged. Her arms thickened unnaturally as she pressed her hands into the tabletop. “What do you know of my brother?”
I escaped my chair and stumbled back.
Dark wings sprouted from her back as her skin turned an oily black. Talons sprouted where her hands had once been, and she quadrupled in size. All in the blink of an eye.
I ran for the door.
She blocked my escape.
Turning towards the double doors leading to the kitchen, I made it almost a step before she shoved me into the wall.
I was trapped.
Her hot breath stung my face. Her talons tore into the wall on either side of my head. “What do you know of my brother?” Her voice was low and harsh, like the grumbling of an animal.
I spoke without thinking. “I—I love him.”
Her eyes were black and unreadable, but the tension in her body eased. “You love him?” She formed the words awkwardly, her sharp teeth jetting out over her top lip.
“Yes,” I said, searching my mind for a goddess’ name, just in case my acknowledgement made her even angrier. “And I think he might love me too.”
She released me, but didn’t move. “How did you come to know my brother?”
“I met him when I tried to escape from The Protectors.”
Sura’s skin began to pale back to her normal coloring. “Did he mention me?”
I inched to my left. “Several times. He still searches for you.”
Her pupils decreased in size, allowing the brown of her irises to show once more. “That sounds like my brother.”
I inched away from her a little more. “He hates The Protectors for taking you.”
She folded her wings onto her back. Between one second and the next, she’d returned entirely back to normal. With the exception of her dress, which hung in tatters. “Then, how did he fall in love with a Protector?”
“He doesn’t know I’ve become a Protector… yet.”
One of Sura’s brows rose, and she walked to the table, sitting back in her chair. “Sorry, I thought I’d learned to control my powers better than that, but I guess I still have more training to do.” She smiled shyly. “Please, sit with me again.”
I looked at the kitchen doors, wondering if there was more than one way to escape her home, and then, back at the table. Sura might have important information about Asher, and I might never have another opportunity like this one. Plus, Asher needed to know if she was okay, and maybe I could give him that.
Crossing the room, I eased into my chair.
Sura smiled reassuringly, leaving her palms up and open on the table, in the universal sign of peace. “I don’t know whether to be happy my brother has found you or sad he’s fallen for a Protector.”
“I’m not sure how to feel either.” I reached an unsteady hand for my glass of water, blurting out the truth. “I’m in love with someone who hates what I am.”
A look of sympathy crossed her face. “May I tell you a little about my brother? It might help.”
I nodded and took a sip of my drink.
“My brother is the most amazing person in this world. When my father died, he worked hard to take care of me and my mother. There were many men, twice my brother’s age, who couldn’t provide for their families, but Asher always made sure we were fed and clothed.”
Imagining Asher as a small child, left to provide for his entire family, reminded me of my own father’s helpless. A tingle of annoyance ran through me, an echo of the anger I’d seen on Asher’s face when he’d comforted me in the snow about my family. Why had my situation bothered him, when he’d experienced a similar one?
“Your mother was the parent. Shouldn’t she have been providing for both of you?”
Sura shrugged. “Before mother married my father, Asher had been the man of the house. He already knew how to take care of her.”
An image of Asher’s mother, brown hair and brown eyes in a fragile face, appeared in my mind. She looked so much like Sura, and yet, too young to have a nineteen or twenty year old son.
“She is pretty young… and she doesn’t look much like Asher,” I said, hoping Sura might confirm my suspicions.
“She’s not his mother by blood,” Sura replied, calmly.
I knew it!
“Does Asher know that?”
“Of course.” She met my gaze with a frank one of her own. ”But she’s the only mother he knows. And he loves her.”
My head spun. This new information was interesting, but something else occurred to me. Asher was a wizard, which meant his father was a wizard. His blood-mother didn’t really matter, but his father, that was a different story.
I hesitated, taking a deep breath. “How did your father die?”
Tears glistened in Sura’s eyes, and she looked away. “People said The Protectors were responsible, but I’m still not sure to this day. I was too young to really understand, but not my brother. His death was… difficult for Asher.”
My heart clenched. He’d lost so much, so young. This strong man no doubt carried tender wounds beneath his walls of anger.
“And what do you know about his real father?”
Her eyes were hollow as she spoke. “Nothing. Mother refused to talk about him, other than to hint that a Protector took his life too.”
Emotion squeezed my chest. “I guess those are two good reasons for Asher to hate us.” I hes
itated. “Do you think he’ll always hate The Protectors?”
She brushed away another tear and cleared her throat. “You mean, will he always hate you?”
I blushed. “Yes.”
She spoke without hesitation. “I don’t know, but I hope not.”
So she wasn’t sure either.
“Maybe it’ll help him, when he finds out you’re safe and happy.”
“No!” she cried, springing to her feet. “You must promise me you won’t tell him you found me.”
I frowned, confused. “But he’s suffered, searching for you. Every day you’re gone, he hurts more. It might bring him some peace...”
She walked around the table and drew one of my hands into hers. “Please,” she begged, her eyes filling with tears. “I couldn’t bear to think of him hating me.”
“He won’t—”
She laughed, a humorless laugh, as a tear streaked down her cheek. “Tell him I’m dead.”
I shook my head and tried to free my hand from hers, but she held on tightly. “You ask me to lie to the man I love.”
Her hands tightened painful around mine. “So, you’ll lie to him to keep his love, but you won’t lie to him to keep him loving me?”
She released her grip on my hand, and I recoiled from her. “Don’t ask me to do this. News of your death will break his heart.”
Tears fell faster down her cheeks, dripping off her chin and spilling on her gown. “I wouldn’t want to be the one to tell him.”
“Then don’t ask this of me.”
Sura took a step towards me. “Consider what’s best for Asher. Then, do what you feel is right.”
I walked to the living room and paced until I caught sight of my frantic movements in the large mirror near the stairs. Candles danced in scones every few feet on the walls, and the light cast a soft glow over my reflection. I would hurt Asher, whether I told him the truth or told him she was dead, and the helplessness of my situation was written on my face.
And, I’d have to tell him what I was.
Blair and the others seemed to think I was the answer to this war, even though there were others with stronger magic than me, and others who could fight better. The only thing I had was Asher, the last living wizard. And if I lost him, I couldn’t imagine another way to win this war. But could I live with myself if I received his help through my lies?
“Have you decided?” she asked, stepping into the room, her hands entwined as if in prayer.
Sura should be the least of my concerns, and yet, her problem had somehow become mine.
“I don’t know how I’ll respond.”
She moved closer to me, her face flushed and swollen. “I guess it’s up to you then.”
Exhaustion slammed me as I turned away from her. My brain hurt. Couldn’t anything be simple anymore? And when did it become so hard just to have a complete thought?
“The days have felt so long since I became a Protector,” I said, rubbing my face.
Sura moved to my side, her hand pressing lightly on my back. “I forgot how tiring it can be in the beginning; let me show you to your room.”
I wanted to ask her more, but since I didn’t know what, I allowed her to lead me up the winding staircase into a small room. My gaze swept over the shades of blue that decorated the room, to the small dressing table and mirror, and past the window overlooking the city, to the bed. It was a welcome sight.
Sura allowed me to collapse onto it, and I heard her whispered, “sleep well,” before my eyes closed.
Exhaustion had settled inside of me, but I found it hard to sleep as a sudden thought seized me. Clarissa had said there would be more tests. No doubt, they’d brought Sura and I together on purpose, but I had the sickening feeling that there was more to me staying in this place than that.
But what?
Chapter Twenty-Three
What felt like seconds later, I awoke with a start.
Someone was bouncing on my bed.
“Dogs can sleep when their masters tell them to,” Clarissa sneered, looking down at me.
I sat up groggily.
She leapt soundlessly to the floor.
“What are you doing?” I groaned.
She grinned, an expression made sinister by the deep shadows cast over her face. “What Blair commanded me to do, and I can’t think of a better time than now.”
I scowled at her, rubbing my eyes. “Don’t you ever sleep?”
Her smile faded. “When you’ve seen the things I have, the only escape from the nightmares is simply not to sleep.”
The urge to ask whether her lack of sleep had led to her madness came and went in a flash. I valued my life more than that.
“Have we heard news of the wizards?” It was the only explanation I could imagine for why she was in my room in the middle of the night.
My question struck her silent for a moment. “We haven’t a lot of time left.”
Something about her answer made my pulse quicken. “What are we going to do?”
She walked to the window, and the moon bathed her in its light. For a second I remembered my first impression of her, a beautiful creature with the face of a goddess, and a voice like chimes blowing in the wind. Was that who she was before The Protectors took her? Or had she been broken long before?
“There,” she said, pointing to something in the distance.
I rose from my bed, squinting and rubbing my eyes. She pointed at a hill that was located at the outskirts of the city. It was taller than any others, almost sheer on all sides like a stake planted in the earth.
Beneath the soft light of the moon, I thought I made out a winding path, twisting around until it reached the building at the top. At least, I thought it was a building. Tall white pillars rose and then disappeared into dark clouds.
“What is it?”
Anger twisted her mouth, and her eyes narrowed. “I don’t have time for stupid questions. Now, let’s go. You finally need to prove your worth.”
I wanted to argue with her, but what was the point? These women had plans for me, and what they were, I could only hope was in the best interest of the people of Tarak. So, very quickly, I straightened my wrinkled dress and went to the mirror and washbasin to comb my hair, readjusting Sirena’s barrette. I scrubbed my face and teeth, before turning and nodding at Clarissa who glowered silently.
She led me out of the darkened house and into the streets of Ponya. The city was lined with streetlamps that flickered in their glass enclosures, creating ever-changing shadows around us. We saw no one as we moved, and there was an eerie stillness as I listened to the sounds of our feet pounding on the cobblestone.
When we at last reached the hill, the moon had risen to its zenith. The stone road ended at the base of a dirt path that winded around the steep hill.
“What’s at the top?”
My question seemed to shake Clarissa into action, and she strode forward into the dirt. “It’s where the Oracle lives.” She snickered. “The useless Oracle.”
A real Oracle? My sense of wonder overpowered my exhaustion. These rare men and women were the few blessed with the ability to speak to the goddesses. The rest of us, we prayed to ears that easily tuned us out. But the Oracles, they were people who could whisper into the goddesses’ ears. They could still be ignored, yet they had a better chance at being heard than the rest of us.
What was more, the goddesses used them to send the rest of us their direct messages. Rather than bringing fires and plagues upon us when displeased, or taking on a human shape to spy, trick, and punish, they often shared their wants and needs with the Oracles. A much better method of communication, in my opinion.
But then I recalled the rest of her words. “Why is he useless?”
Goddesses’ breath, did I really ask her another question?
But, for once, Clarissa answered my question without a hint of the strange flare-ups of anger or sadness that usually accompanied her answers. “The Oracle was important, but he’s nothing more than
a memory now.”
“He’s dead?”
Her breathing became labored as we continued our climb, and my own pulse quickened with the effort of our journey. “No,” she said, taking a deep breath. “But the people don’t have much use for an Oracle who can’t speak to the goddesses.”
My thoughts swirled as we continued walking. How could this man be an Oracle if he couldn’t speak to them? And why had the goddesses turned a deaf ear to him?
When we nearly reached the top of the hill, a young man was waiting. He wore a white robe trimmed with gold, but his dark hair was a wavy mess on his head, falling unevenly over his collar.
“Greetings,” he said, his voice nearly as breathless as if he’d been the one climbing. “We’ve been waiting so very long for you.”
He was gazing at me, his sun-tanned face glowing with something I couldn’t name.
“Are you the Oracle?” I asked.
Clarissa snorted. “Is she everything you hoped for?”
He ignored her, his gaze still firmly on me. “Oh no, I’m not the Oracle, but I’ll take you to him.”
I shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t move. “And what should I call you?”
He beamed. “I am Jundro, assistant to the Oracle.”
“Glad to know you.” I glanced around him, trying to peek beyond the wall of dirt to the building made of pillars.
“Oh,” he said, disappointment lacing his voice. “I’m sorry. I’m keeping you waiting.”
I tried to give him my most reassuring glance. “Not at all.”
Jundro didn’t move, even after a long, awkward pause.
“Come on, boy,” Clarissa growled. “She’s not Blair. You don’t have to be an awe of her.”
He blushed. “Sorry!”
Jundro turned and led us up the remainder of the hill, but to my surprise, clouds gathered as we rose. They weren’t thick and dark as they’d appeared from Sura’s home, but pale white and wispy, drifting around us like translucent sheep. Something about them screamed magic. Not just because they were so low to the ground, but because of the strange way they moved, almost like they were conscious creatures.
“This place is blessed,” Jundro said, watching me from over his shoulder.