by A. G. Henley
Kora and Darel’s mother breaks down again. Kora would never willingly leave Bega behind. How much more can the poor woman take?
I reach out for the doll. Soft wood shavings escape into my palm from her lumpy body. I hold her to my nose. She smells dirty and mildewed, but under that, I detect the familiar scents of my young friend. Tears leak from my eyes.
When I hugged her, Kora’s thick, curly hair hinted of the spices of Arika’s cooking pot, the grassy meadows where she played with the other children, the water hole where she swam, the smoky allawah where she learned the stories of her people from Wirrim and Kadee, and her own cozy bed. All the sunny settings of her young life.
I bring Bega to Arika and hold her as she shakes with sobs. Rage courses through me. How can these women do this to us? Are they completely heartless?
“Nothing like this ever happened before the lorinyas came, Nerang,” the man who found the feather says. His voice sounds menacing. “They brought this ill luck to us.”
“We should never have taken them in,” a woman says.
I stiffen, and a shiver runs down my back. They mean us: Peree, me, the other Lofties and Groundlings.
“We didn’t cause this.” My voice stays even.
“How do we know that?” the man says. “Myall wears the same kind of feather.”
I clutch my hands together to keep them from shaking. “We found it in the woods back home. We didn’t know where it came from.”
“Maybe the Fire Sisters were there, watching you. Maybe they followed you here.” The woman’s words pulse with accusation.
“Through the caves?” Kadee asks. “The Sisters couldn’t have followed them that way without being seen.”
“Well, we had no trouble before the lorinyas arrived,” another man says. “It’s their fault!”
“Enough,” Nerang says. “We will not treat our new friends like criminals; it will not help bring the guru back.”
The shouts die down to grumbling, but the damage is done. I already feel sick about the children. Now I wonder if it could be our fault. My best friend Calli found that feather in the woods around our home; she gave it to me to give to Peree. Did the Sisters somehow follow us? Did we bring this terrible fate on Koolkuna?
People begin to pace as we wait, their feet swishing the grass, back and forth, back and forth. I sit with Arika, Moon, and Yani, gnawing my thumbnail, wracked with worry for Kora, Darel, Thrush, Frost, and the rest of the children. Wracked with guilt that we might be responsible. Wracked with a desire to do something.
“Kadee,” I murmur. “Didn’t the anuna already know about the Fire Sisters if they took Kai when she was young?”
“This is the first I’ve heard of them,” she says. “Kaiya wouldn’t speak of what happened to her. We knew she disappeared from the Myuna, and her father never came back from trying to find her. She was with the runa when she was discovered, and Nerang nursed her back to health. That’s all we know.”
Kadee told me before that Kai was one of the few people to survive living among the sick ones. What did it do to her? And what happened when she was with the Sisters?
I catch the sounds of people moving through the trees toward the clearing, and I jump to my feet. I allow myself a flash of hope, but from their slow steps and the silence of the anuna around me, I can tell they don’t have the children. Desperate for some kind of comfort, I clasp the wooden bird that glides at my throat, the pendant Peree carved for me as a sign of his devotion.
It’s a relief when he finally hugs me to him, smelling of salt and bitter sadness. He takes my hands in his, rubbing gently to warm them. I shouldn’t be this cold. It’s late in the summer, nearly fall, but the temperature is still mild in the afternoon. It’s the shock. The clearing feels weighted down with it.
“We lost them.” Derain’s voice buckles with grief. “They left one woman behind to fend us off with her arrows, and then she slipped away in the shadows of the branches, moving like the wind. We searched, but we couldn’t find them again.”
“Then we have no time to lose,” Nerang says. “A search party will leave as soon as possible. Who will go?”
There are a few declarations from the group. I hear Derain, and a woman’s high voice, like birdsong, that I think belongs to Amarina. I worked with her in the gardens. She sounds as breakable as a thin stalk of the maidengrass that grew around our water hole at home, but Kadee told me she’s a skilled tracker and woodswoman who can coax fire out of little more than a handful of damp kindling.
“My brothers and me are going for sure,” Moray growls. I don’t trust them much, but they’re tough and cunning. We need whoever can help bring Frost and the children home.
“I’ll go.” My voice is strong, decided. I feel better for saying the words.
Peree squeezes my shoulders. “I will, too.”
I’m afraid to enter an unfamiliar forest, chasing after a group of kidnapping warrior women. I’m no fighter.
But I want to go for Kora and her family. They were the first to befriend Peree and me when we washed up in Koolkuna, helpless as babies.
I want to go for Thrush, Moon, and Petrel. I know all too well how it feels to lose a brother.
I want to go for Frost. Pregnant and afraid, she risked her father, Osprey’s, rage to free Eland and me when we were trapped in the Lofty trees.
I want to go for Nerang, who saved our lives, and for the anuna, who took us in, even if some might unfairly blame us for this tragedy now.
And… I want to go for Eland. I couldn’t save him. I can still save these children.
Everyone has done so much for us. How can I sit here, enjoying the protection and comforts they secured for us, hoping someone else will help?
I can’t.
I’ll go, and I’ll do whatever it takes to find Kora and the others and bring them home.
Chapter Two
Peree and I rush along the path back toward the village to pack. Others move with us, but no one is in any mood to chat.
Koolkuna is eerily quiet for a warm and sunny afternoon. I hear none of the familiar sounds of hammering, sawing, laughter, or snatches of gossip as we pass the kitchen, the workroom, and the compact, comfortable homes that I know sit around the central part of the village. Ghosts might as well inhabit it.
A woman wails from the trees where more homes nestle. The sound of her anguish settles into the pit of my stomach, a physical thing.
Peree and I pass through the village and reach our home on the outskirts. I shut the door quickly to block out the woman’s cries, then collapse against it. I’d love to lie down for a moment, but there’s no time.
This is the same home Peree and I stayed in when we were in Koolkuna before, but we haven’t been able to spend a lot of time here since we returned. We’ve been busy helping the other Groundlings and Lofties settle in. The place feels empty, shadowy, and too still now. Not much like home at all.
Peree gathers me in, pressing my cheek to the intricately stitched shirt he borrowed for our partnering ceremony. It smells pleasantly of greenheart wood, as if it's been kept safe in a wooden chest somewhere.
I’m still wearing my own finery, a dress made of the softest leather, with feathers and fur strategically sewn here and there for adornment. It belonged to Nerang’s partner, Yindi, who died years ago. The elaborate hairstyle Arika carefully arranged for me is drooping around my face. It doesn’t matter now.
Peree laughs a little and smooths the mop out of my eyes. “Today was a disaster.”
I rest my chin on his chest. “Complete disaster.”
“The children. Frost. The Fire Sisters, whoever they are.” He pauses.
“Our partnering ceremony.” My chest aches.
It feels selfish to even think about this now, but Peree and I had plans. We’d been deciding whether to live on the ground or to build a home in the trees near Moon and Petrel. We’d talked about what our duties in the village should be, all the things we wanted to do for the others an
d ourselves now that we don’t have any rules imposed on us about spending time together. These are the hopes and dreams planted between us that will have to remain dormant.
He rubs soothing circles across my back. “We’ll have an even bigger and better party when we get back with the children. Bigger than the Summer Solstice celebration. Better than the Feast of Deliverance.”
“But if we fail, if the children—” I smother the terrible words. I can’t even think them.
I tell him what some of the anuna said while he was gone, about how we brought the ill luck to Koolkuna. “The anuna might let us stay, but will they ever accept us?”
Peree’s hand freezes. “How could they think we had anything to do with what happened today? That’s ridiculous.”
I run my fingers through his shoulder-length, wavy hair. It’s the color of daffodils and sunshine, I’ve been told. He plans to remove the feathers he wears and cut his hair after we partner, as is the Lofty way. I want to respect his people’s traditions, but I’ll be secretly sorry when he does.
“The feather Calli found," I say.
His fingers brush mine. “This? If this is what’s making them so suspicious, then it’s easily solved.” There’s a tearing sound, as if he rips out the strands of hair the feather was tied to. I wince. “Done.”
I cup his freshly shaved cheek and smile. “I wish it were so simple. I just hope we can find them. I can’t stand the thought of the children being in the hands of those women. What do they do with them?”
“The Sisters were something else, Fenn. All painted white. Armed to the teeth. And that scream… Thrush went white as a stone.”
I won’t forget the Sisters’ battle cry any time soon. “Why didn’t the children cry or shout? Why couldn’t I hear them at all?”
He lets out a long breath. “I don’t know. They weren’t gagged or anything. But they looked odd. Kind of… slack-faced.”
I shiver, and he rubs my arms.
“It reminded me of a story Kadee told me once," he says, "about a man who came to a village and, at the request of the people, played his pipes to lead all the rats that had been bothering them away. But once the rats were gone, the people wouldn’t give the piper what they promised him in return. So the next night, he came back, played his pipes, and took all their children away. Only three children remained behind to tell the villagers what had happened. One was lame, and so couldn’t follow the other children. One was deaf, and so couldn’t hear the music. And one was blind and couldn’t find her way.”
I make a face at that. “What did the people do?”
“They begged and pleaded with the piper to give their children back, but he was angry, and he wouldn’t.”
I sigh. “Peree, I wish Kadee would teach you some new stories. Ones with happy endings.” I start to move away. “We should get ready.”
“Wait.” He draws me back into his arms. “The timing could be better, but… I don’t know when I’ll have you to myself again.”
He kisses me.
We’ve shared a lot of kisses now—sweet, soft, tender, steamy, seductive, intense. I never knew there were so many kinds. This one starts slow and builds, like a fire catching. My legs go weak, and my insides turn to liquid.
I press myself against him, wanting no distance between us. His back is muscled under my hands, and his slim hips fit well against my own. His sweet honeysuckle scent makes me dizzy. If only we could lose ourselves in each other, forget everything and everyone else… let it all slip away in the heat of our passion. For a moment, I let myself pretend we can.
But far too soon, we’re pulling apart again. He holds my face in his hands and kisses each of my eyes, a habit he’s picked up, like he hopes to kiss away the long-forgotten pain of my being blinded by my own people for no good reason.
It’s a bittersweet gesture. I feel loved—and reminded I was once unloved—all at the same time. But I know how Peree means it, and that makes all the difference.
“We’ll get through this,” he murmurs, “and before long, we’ll be back here, right here, kissing again.”
I wish I felt so confident.
My frantic pulse finally slows, and I cock my head to the side, listening.
“What?” he asks.
“People are gathering. We better hurry.” Nerang told the search party to meet at the allawah, the meeting place in the center of Koolkuna.
After I change into old clothes, I fold Yindi’s lovely dress and lay it carefully on a chair. I wonder if I’ll have the chance to wear it again.
My worn, trusty pack gets stuffed with a warm bedroll, Peree’s knife, the little scrap of fabric I stitched a badly formed bear on years ago for Bear, the rabbit’s foot he gave me for luck when I first walked among the Scourge, and an old dress Calli lent me once and I forgot to give back. The bits and pieces of the people I love most.
Except for Eland and Aloe. I have nothing of them. Only memories.
I tuck the sack back into my pack, pull the straps over my shoulders, and grope for the door. “Ready?”
Peree’s fingers skim across the skin of my neck as he touches the bird he carved for me, telling me without words that he loves me. I find his mouth and press my lips to his. We’ve fought hard against the forces and people who tried to keep us apart. We’ve earned some peace and happiness.
But there’s no way we can have them yet. We have to do this first. We have to find the children.
Peree and I dash to the allawah. From the number of people it sounds like are already packed inside, we’re late. The spacious, wooden shelter where the anuna hold meetings and have meals isn’t as warm or cozy as it usually is. There’s no fire today, and it’s noisy and crowded. Someone bumps into me, barely stopping to apologize.
I hear Derain. There’s no hint of grief in his voice now, like there was earlier; he sounds as focused as the point of a knife. The voice of the man he’s talking to is low, urgent, and filled with barely contained sorrow.
“This is the lorinyas’ doing, Derain. You must see that!”
I freeze, my stomach clenching, and pull Peree to a stop.
“What?” Peree whispers. He didn't hear it.
We’re doing all we can to bring the children back! I want to say, but I hesitate, knowing the man must be distraught. What good does it do to argue with him?
“Fenn?” Peree asks again.
“Mirii and Myall are here,” Derain says, as if in warning. He uses the names the anuna gave us. Mine means star, and Peree’s means wild, thanks to his long hair and feathers. It usually makes me snigger when someone calls him that. Not today.
“The search party has gathered.” Nerang raises his voice to be heard, and the crowd quiets. “The anuna are grateful to you all: Derain, Amarina, Moray, Cuda, Conda, Mirii, Myall, Bear, and Kaiya. The hopes and blessings of the anuna go with you. Bring our guru back to us.”
Derain’s children were taken. Moray and his brothers want Frost and her baby back. I’m not sure about Amarina. And Bear? Why is he going?
Whatever the reason, I’m elated my old friend will be with us. I know I can trust him, unlike the brothers or Kai, who almost shot me with a stray arrow a few days ago. Honestly, I’m a little surprised she’s so community-minded as to volunteer for this.
Peree and I shuffle back outside with the crowd. I’m handed a bag of food and two bags of water that we’ll need to refill often, given the small sizes. I shove them in my pack. Bear comes over to stand beside me; I’d know his woodsy scent anywhere. I nudge him.
“You’re coming?”
He’s quiet for a moment. “I want to help.”
My hearts warms. Bear. I squeeze his hand.
“Say your goodbyes,” Derain says to us. “We’ll set a fast pace. We must catch up to the Sisters as quickly as possible.”
Kadee embraces me, and we hold each other for a long time. I have to clear my throat to speak.
“How’s Wirrim?” I ask. The ancient Memory Keeper has been seriousl
y ill.
“Not well,” she says. “Nerang doesn’t expect him to survive the week.”
More bad news. Wirrim is as much a part of Koolkuna as the massive greenheart trees surrounding the village or the waterfall in the Myuna. “I’m very sorry. He’ll be missed.”
“So will you, my daughter. Come home, Fennel, you and Peree. Find the guru and bring yourselves back to me.”
I kiss her cheek, and then Moon pulls me away. She crushes me to her, squashing Yani between us. Peree’s cousin is crying, her words spilling as quickly as her tears.
“What you and Peree are doing for Thrush and the other children… I won’t ever forget it. I know how selfish I’m being, Fennel!”
I pat her. “Selfish? How?”
“I feel terrible, but I can’t let Petrel go. What if he doesn’t come back? He’ll leave Yani fatherless!” She lowers her voice. “And you know he wouldn’t be much help. I love him dearly, but Petrel’s a carpenter, not a hunter like Peree.”
It didn’t occur to me Petrel might go, even though Thrush is his brother-in-law. I hear Petrel now, speaking to Peree in a hushed voice.
Peree told me they were inseparable when they were younger, living in the trees as Lofty boys. Then Petrel married and became a father, and Peree met me. Their lives and loyalties are shifting and changing, blown about grains of sand, some coming together, others pushing apart.
“That’s not selfishness, Moon. You love Petrel, and you don’t want to lose him. Of course you want Yani to have a father. I don’t blame you a bit.” I hold her, breathing in the floral scent of her hair, mindful of the baby. “We’ll bring your brother home, I promise.”
It’s all I can do not to break down myself as I listen to her cry. I find and nuzzle Yani’s fuzzy head before I turn away.
Arika kisses my hands, thanking me in a voice hollowed out with tears. Nerang thanks me, too, with sincerity. Petrel, Konol, and a few others touch my arm and wish me luck.
Peree takes my hand, keeping me close, as we start down the path from the village, heading toward the water hole and the uncertainty beyond. My body tenses at the thought of the vast, unknown forest ahead. The river… Restless, did Kai call it? And the Cloister. Will I really be able to help with the search? Or will my Sightlessness only hold the group up?