How can my parents expect me to survive such a dangerous quest when the others met such gruesome ends?
Yet I can't help but feel I'll be different, that I'll succeed where others have failed. Though it's buried deep, raw hope still glimmers from within. Without hope I doubt I would've survived these last three weeks. Every waking moment was a constant reminder of my fate, from the whispered murmurs on the street to the exhaustive sword training with the blacksmith's son, Seth. Worst of all, the forlorn expression in my parents' eyes when they thought I wasn't watching. The only escape I had were the hunting trips into the peaceful forest, which became far too infrequent due to my new responsibilities.
"Sweetie, what happened to your wrists?" Mom asks, capturing one of my hands in hers.
"Oh, just a reaction from the nightshade," I say, ashamed at just how easy the lie rolls off my tongue.
Nothing good would come from her knowing about Cory's attack. Though she doesn't appear to believe me, she still releases my wrist and takes a step back, her lips set in a grim line.
"You should get ready for your party. Brinda and Celeste are waiting u-upstairs." Her voice breaks a bit on the last word betraying the calm exterior she tries to project.
Though I feel the need to say something reassuring, my mouth is dry and I can't seem to form any words. I turn and run up the wooden stairs, taking them two at a time, desperate to escape her sorrowful eyes. When I reach the top of the staircase I pause, glancing over my shoulder at the flickering candlelight down below. My heart constricts in my chest, and I race back down, almost falling in my haste. Without slowing, I throw myself into my mother's arms.
"I love you, Mama," I whisper into her shoulder, clinging to her like an anchor amid my sea of emotions. "I'll come home, I-I promise. Don't worry… I'll make you proud."
"Oh, baby, we're already proud of you," Dad says from behind me. "You are strong, of body and soul. Deep inside I know you'll succeed." Releasing my mother, I face my father, my pillar of strength.
"Do you really believe that?" I ask, my golden eyes wide in amazement. A couple tears manage to make it past my futile attempt for control. Once the first few drops escape, it's like a dam burst and more pour out from my burning eyes.
"Yes," he murmurs, pulling me into his arms and kissing the top of my head before releasing me. "Now get ready for your party. We'll see you at the tavern."
They both pretend not to see the silent tears coursing down my cheeks in twin rivulets. With one last glance at my parents, I wipe the wet drops from my face before retreating. Returning to the staircase, I ascend slower this time, no longer running from my demons.
When I reach the door to my room it's standing wide open. I pause in the doorway for a few moments, wondering if I can make a break for it before my sisters notice my presence. They seem wrapped up in their current activity, which involves throwing every garment we own from the small closet. Just as I'm about to run, Celeste notices me in the doorway and grabs my arm to pull me into the room.
"It's about time you got here!" she says, releasing my arm and glaring at me with her hands on her hips. "Now we only have a few minutes to get you ready for the party! You know how important this is right? This may be your last chan…"
My mind tunes out her incessant chatter as I cross the room to sit on the edge of my bed. Running my hand over the downy blanket, I realize this may be the last time I ever sit on my bed again. I haven't told anyone yet, but I plan to leave tonight, right after the party.
There's no way I'm staying for the mayor's ridiculous celebration tomorrow. Not only will Cory be there, but so will the whole town. I've already felt like a freak show the past three weeks. Mr. Markim's two-headed foal didn't even get as much attention as I do. The mayor is not going to put me on display for the whole town to stare at.
"I'm leaving tonight after the party," I blurt out, ending Celeste's tireless rant.
"What?" Brinda gasps as her hand tugs at her long brown hair, twirling a strand around several slender fingers. "Mayor Franklin'll be mad."
Her chocolate brown eyes stare at the floor while she fidgets with the hem of her white dress. Brinda never was one to break any rule imposed by an elder, whether said rule was sensible or not.
"Cory attacked me in the forest today," I say, my face reddening from a dizzying combination of fury and humiliation. "There's no way I'm going to some asinine celebration tomorrow only to see him again."
"That yellow-bellied rat!" Celeste all but screams in her outrage. "I hope you put an arrow through him." Her cobalt eyes are sparking in fury as she begins to pace the small room.
"You know very well I couldn't do that," I say, though I can't help but agree with the sixteen-year-old blonde. "I did fight him, but I was exhausted from hiking through the woods all day."
Flopping back on my soft bed, I stare up into the faces of my sisters, one spitting mad and the other terrified.
"I was rescued by a mercenary… the most handsome man I've ever seen in my life." His soulful eyes invade my thoughts, sending a tiny involuntary shiver from my head to my shoulders.
"Zane?" Celeste asks in a breathy whisper.
"Yeah, how'd you know?" I ask.
My heart starts racing and another tiny shiver courses through my body, raising goose bumps on my arms. Whether from reliving the attack or the thought of the gorgeous mercenary, I'm not sure.
"He came to town a couple days ago with the merchant caravan. He's in Verdane, oh, four to five times a year," Celeste says with a wistful sigh. "Just about every girl in town has hit on him at one time or another. He's never shown the slightest interest in any of us. Even me! It's those dark red eyes of his, so soulful. You just want to wrap your arms around his hunky goodness and kiss away his troubles."
"How did I manage to miss seeing him before?" I ask, surprised that I never noticed such an attractive man.
Celeste has never seemed this smitten about anyone. She prances and spins around the room, continuing to list his assets. It becomes an extensive list before she answers my question.
"You spend way too much time alone in the woods," Celeste replies with a dismissive wave of her hand. "And you stopped going to the tavern with me two years ago when the boys wouldn't leave you alone. When Zane's in town he's usually in the tavern at night. He's a big tipper. I always have to fight with the other barmaids to wait on him. Don't know why they bother since I always win."
She drags me from the bed, forcing me to put my feet on the floor or fall on my backside, before circling my body like a bird of prey.
"You need to get ready for the party. You'll want to look gorgeous if Zane'll be there," Celeste says, lifting my matted hair in her fingers and dropping it with a loud snort.
"He already saw me like this," I reply, gesturing at my less than feminine attire.
Cory is right. Without my fiery mass of long copper hair, I could be mistaken for a boy dressed like this. The tunic is several sizes too large, though at least the leggings fit. When did I start worrying about my appearance? My eyes widen when I realize I do care what Zane thinks.
If only I was a normal girl with a normal life who could wear a normal dress to the party.
"I don't think putting on a pretty dress will help at this point. Besides, I need to wear my travel clothes so I can sneak away tonight," I say, trepidation at my impending departure making it difficult to breathe.
The air feels too thick, each breath a struggle. The chatter in the room sounds distant and hollow as darkness begins to form at the edges of my vision. It takes everything I have to calm my nerves enough to even out my breathing. My sisters seem oblivious to my plight; their conversation continues uninterrupted.
"I already put your bag together," Brinda says in her usual soft manner. "Everything you laid out last night is packed in the brown leather backpack." She pauses, eyeing me with curiosity. "The map of the ruins, you know the one the town paid a small fortune for from that wandering monk. Do you think it's real?"
"Ashlyn," Brinda gasps at my disrespect. "You shouldn't talk about the mayor like that."
"His son forced me to kiss him in the woods," I say, biting my lower lip to control my building fury. "I don't have any respect for a man who raised someone who would do something like that."
"But…"
"No, Brinda, don't defend him," I say, emphasizing each word. "Cory has never been responsible for his actions. He fancies himself better than everyone else and above the law. He certainly wasn't born that way… his father made him like that."
My words silence her. But I'm not finished yet. Three weeks of pent up emotions have broken to the surface and if they aren't freed I'm afraid I'll burst.
"The mayor is ultimately responsible for the decisions regarding this town, no?" I ask, not expecting an answer. "He's the one who condones… no… encourages the town to send a defenseless girl, by herself, across a dangerous continent to monster-infested ruins to find the Goddess Statue that was stolen twenty-five years ago. Not once has anyone other than a priest or two accompanied the Chosen on her journey. Never. And all this is based on some random, homeless monk weaving an incredible story about sending a girl between the ages of fourteen and eighteen to chase after the relic. Then, to top it all off, the elders paid him thirty silver pieces for a map of the ruins. Am I really the only one who sees the problem here?"
"Of course not," Celeste says in a soft voice so out of character for the young blonde. She runs her hand through her curls before winding one long corkscrew around her finger. "This whole thing is absurd. But what can we do?"
"Heh, I don't even get a priest to accompany me since the last two died five years ago escorting poor Bianca." When I realize I'm wringing my hands together, I clench them into tight fists. "I'm so scared," I whisper into the silent room, giving voice to the fears that have been plaguing me for three weeks.
Images of Bianca's broken body fill my mind… so much dried blood, limbs bent in impossible directions, her head caved in on the right side. I was with her mother the day her dead body was brought back to Verdane. She made it so far, died just a few miles from the Breven Ruins.
Will my family cry over my mutilated body just as Bianca's did?
"I know this'll sound mean, but it's your last night here… all your friends and family are waiting at the tavern to say goodbye." Brinda breaks the overbearing silence with her soft voice. "We just n-need…" She stops her sentence as her tears overflow, streaking down her face. "A-Ashlyn, you have t-to come back… p-promise!"
Her speech is halted by wracking sobs, though her point is clear. I need to be strong tonight for myself and my family. I'll have plenty of time to breakdown later, once I'm far away from this blasted town. Brinda falls to her knees on the floor next to my bed, wrapping her slender arms around my waist.
"I can't promise that," I say, pausing when Brinda's mournful brown eyes fly to my face. "It'd be a lie. What I can promise is I'll do everything in my power to finish this quest and return alive and well. I'm not ready to die. I mean my first kiss sucked. I won't even consider dying until I get one of those toe-curling kisses like in the books under Celeste's mattress," I say, trying to make light of the situation.
"Cory was your first kiss?" Celeste asks, skepticism radiating from her cobalt eyes. When I nod, her expression changes to one of pity… no, not pity but empathy. "I'm so sorry, Ash. You've been through so much and that pompous jerk goes and destroys your first kiss." Her eyes spark with the determination and fire I'm used to seeing in them. "Cory will suffer. Mark my words… he will pay for what he did to you. No one messes with my sister!"
"Ya know, I actually feel sorry for the heartless jerk now," I say as tears come to my eyes to belie the smile on my face and the laughter in my voice. "Well, sis, what am I wearing tonight?"
Celeste holds up a beautiful indigo dress, her pride and joy. She spent several months on the intricate embroidery adorning the neckline, hem and cuffs.
"Well, I was planning on dressing you in this," she says, caressing the rich velvet. "But since you're sneakin' out tonight we need to find something travel worthy, huh?" She shimmies out of her plain yellow work dress and pulls the indigo velvet over her head. "If you can't wear it then I will," she says, twirling in front of the mirror, her long blonde curls swinging around her body.
"Uh, what's wrong with what I'm already wearing?"
Celeste's jaw drops as she stares at me through the reflection in the mirror, watching in horror while I play with one of the larger holes torn into my leggings during Cory's attack.
"Oh, a joke, right?" Celeste says when she regains her senses. "So not funny…"
"I thought you wanted to dress up for Zane," Brinda says before disappearing into our closet.
"What's the point?" I ask with a forlorn sigh. "Even if I had a chance with a guy like him, I only have a few hours left 'til I sneak away."
"One passionate night together?" Celeste suggests, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well, one hour. You can do quite a lot in an hour, trust me."
"Uh, yeah…" I trail off unsure how to finish the statement.
Celeste has a reputation in Verdane as a fun time. Until now I thought it was exaggerated. I just admitted Cory was my first kiss. I don't think I'm ready for what Celeste seems to have in mind.
"I finished sewing your two sets of travel clothes this morning," Brinda says, handing me a small folded pile. "Good thing Mom helped me with the finishing touches since I was planning to pull an all-nighter tonight to finish them."
Nervous about what she intends to dress me in, I hold my breath as I unfold the top garments, two velvet bodysuits, one royal blue and the other forest green. Both have long sleeves and leggings, which will keep me warm on the cold nights out on the road. Tomorrow is the first day of spring, yet the weather at night is still as cold as it was several weeks ago. There are also two short-sleeved shirts, one white with green leaves embroidered along the sleeves and hem. The other is a solid baby blue. The two white miniskirts are embroidered to match the shirts, green leaves on one and cornflower blue flowers on the other.
"These are far too nice for travel," I say, admiring the beautiful garments. "I'll be sleeping on the ground every night…they'll be ruined within a day."
"That's why we got you this," Celeste says, handing me a package wrapped in brown butcher paper with a blue ribbon tying it closed.
I tear open the gift, my breath catching in my throat as the wrapping falls to the floor. With trembling fingers I hold up the rich blue velvet cloak, watching the fabric as it unrolls to its full length.
"How?" I ask in a breathless whisper.
Brinda wraps the long cloak around my body, smiling as she pulls the hood up over my head. It's a full-length cloak, the hem reaching just above my ankles. I've always admired the colorful velvet cloaks the wealthy and nobility wear, but we could never even dream of affording something so extravagant. Pulling the cloak around my body, I rub my cheek against the luxurious fabric. My heart swells and my lips curl into a smile when I glance back up at my sisters.
"I took extra shifts at the tavern," Celeste says, fidgeting with her dress while watching me twirl in the cloak. "Brinda took in extra sewing. We wanted you to have this so bad. You need something to keep you warm on your journ…" She trails off, glancing away so I don't see the sorrow I can hear in her voice.
"Thank you so… so much," I whisper, closing my eyes in an attempt to keep the tears forming at bay.
"Enough crying already," Celeste exclaims through watery blue eyes. "Let's get you ready and head to the tavern. You can't keep everyone waiting all night… and I can practically guarantee Zane will be there."
Her words put a smile back on my face and I can't help but laugh. As I allow my sisters to fuss around me, I retreat into my mind losing myself to my thoughts. Instead
of the morose path I expect my wandering mind to take, images of the auburn-haired mercenary fill my head. This isn't something I'm used to. In all my seventeen years, while my friends and sisters talked and giggled about boys, I never participated. The village boys never caught my interest. Not even one. Yet as images of Zane continue to swirl around in my mind, I find I have the opposite problem.
I can't stop thinking about him.
Chapter Three
Party
"There," Celeste says, brushing the last of the tangles from my thick copper hair. "Look in the mirror, you look beautiful."
She says it with such reverence. I hazard a quick glance into the large oval mirror hanging on the wall near the door. My heart leaps in surprise; I almost don't recognize the young woman staring back at me. Though, truth be told, I can't remember the last time I took the time to gaze at myself in the mirror.
My appearance hasn't been important to me in four years, the exact moment still seared in my brain. So much like today but with a different, much older man. I managed to fight him off and run away, but the reason for his attack was the same as Cory's: my beauty and, of course, my long fiery hair.
He wasn't even punished by our justice system, having been wealthy enough to buy off the officials with an overflowing pouch of silver. No, he received his punishment from the fists of my older brothers, Abel and Jess. The next morning I raided Abel's closet and took his old clothes, foregoing the more feminine attire my mother had sewn for me. I also took a dagger to my hair, cutting off my long braid at the nape of my neck, throwing it to the dirt with fierce joy.
Perhaps if I wasn't pretty the men wouldn't hurt me.
As I stared at the braid lying at my feet, I vowed to do whatever it took to become stronger, to be a fighter. When I begged Jess and Abel for martial arts lessons, I found myself enrolled in the academy that same day. Through the years my hair grew back while my strength and confidence soared. Living with a strong father and two wonderful older brothers was a constant reminder of how decent men behave.
Shadow Fire Page 2