Talk about peer pressure. I had to do this. Eat a glob of slime. It was like initiation into some kind of club in which I didn’t want membership. I closed my eyes and Sol counted to three. I swallowed and a collective cheer went up as everyone followed suit.
It wasn’t as bad as I imagined, salty and slimy and before I could think about the fact I just ingested a giant slug, Noah came to my rescue, pressing his mouth on mine in a chaste kiss. Oyster shots with kiss chasers I could handle.
“All right, it doesn’t count as trying unless you do it twice,” Sol said, already loaded with another oyster. The second one went down easier, and I was feeling suddenly super relaxed. I was about to go for my third one when Noah’s hand on my wrist stopped me.
“Two is probably enough for your first time,” Noah said.
“At least not until after the ceremony part.” Sol tipped my hand to his mouth and sucked the shell empty.
I frowned, my eyes darting between the two of them. “What do you mean? That makes like five for both of you.”
Noah kissed me again and his mouth felt too good, his hair extra soft on my cheek, downy like goose feathers. I thought I might be floating like all the giant balls of light. They looked so pretty. Noah was so pretty. Sol’s hair spiraled on the wind like those swirly ribbons on Christmas presents. I liked presents. My gaze floated back to Noah and his water-green eyes then dizzied back to Sol. His eyes had lost their amusement and he grabbed another oyster. He downed it with an exaggerated slurp and violent tilt of his head.
“What was in those oysters?” I asked. One glass of champagne was not enough to cause this pleasant buzz in my head. Every inch of my skin hummed with pleasure.
“Nothing,” Noah said as he led me away from my brother. “It’s kind of like a lander eating marijuana brownies. Only better. Don’t worry, the effects don’t last long.”
Thank goodness. Or maybe not. I was the tail on Noah’s kite as he glided over the sand. I looked back over my shoulder at Sol. He was still watching us, a deep scowl on his face. I wanted him to be happy. I wanted everyone to be happy. I waved and made a face. It was enough to coax a partial smile out of him.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked, not really caring.
“Some water will help,” he said.
We stopped at one of the water fountains. When I first arrived, I thought they were champagne fountains, and some of them were, but a few of the elaborate urns flowed with fresh water. Noah picked up a glass, filled it up, and handed it to me.
He was right about the effects of the oysters. They were short lived. One glass of water and I was feeling more or less normal again. Good thing because Athen came striding up to us, his expression pensive for what was supposed to be a happy occasion.
“Sterling’s here.” His eyes fell on me and his expression softened. “You ready?”
“Yes,” I responded, but it sounded more like a question, and my stomach twisted in ropes. I looked around for my dad and was relieved to see him coming towards me with Mrs. Jacobs.
Noah took my hand and leaned over, his mouth close to my ear. “You look really pretty.”
I smiled up at him. He kissed my hand.
“Lets do this thing,” I said.
Eighteen
The actual ceremony was simple. Sterling greeted me looking infuriatingly spectacular. Blue was his color. He was the only one wearing a jacket, and it was set off against his white linen pants. His pearl gleamed between the lapels of his shirt, an enticing display of what I’d rejected.
“You are truly stunning.” He took one of my hands and kissed both my cheeks lightly. The three men he had with him, while not armed, didn’t look any less menacing for it, and I wondered why he thought the need for bodyguards at a party of his own kind. He didn’t make introductions, which suited me fine. I’d been thrown more names than I would ever remember.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the place he indicated on a raised platform that put me at a height I could see over the gathering of breathers, a sea of glossy hair and eyes, expressions hopeful and expectant.
A hush had fallen and someone had turned down the music, leaving only the sound of the surf, a gentle wash of water on the shore. I searched for my dad and he smiled encouragingly.
“It’s an honor,” Sterling began, his voice reverently soft, “to witness this binding of one Caris Harper, daughter of Rena Flores, daughter of Athen Kelley, to the Emerald Tribe.”
Okay. That was a little more formal than I expected. I released the breath that had stalled in my throat when Sterling started his speech and caught it again when he stepped back to reveal a woman in a long gauzy dress. Her face was partially covered under a thin veil, but her unnaturally bright diamond eyes gave her away. It was Maggie and in her hand she held a candle, the single flame flickering towards the sky, the scent mingling with the salt air. Behind her close-lipped smile a hum started in her throat. The sound trickled over my skin like water over smooth stones. She could be an angel, a goddess, a priestess of some sort from another time. The whole affair had grown dream-like and slow moving. I felt Athen as he moved to stand in front of me and my gaze shifted to his. My heart thundered in anticipation. With so many eyes on us this suddenly felt huge. Another one of those moments of destiny life was so fond of throwing at me lately.
Athen held a necklace in his hand, the design simple at my request. The pearl shimmered, radiating like a strobe of dry lightning in a summer sky. We shared a solemn look, a silent acknowledgement of what Rena had done for both of us. Athen leaned in and his salty scent filled my nose as he secured the necklace at the back of my neck. His pearl settled in the place at the base of my throat and I waited, expecting to feel the glow of its warmth, but it remained blessedly cool against my skin. A whisper ran through the gathered crowd so quiet I almost missed it. My eyes drifted over them and the faint glow that pulsed from their midst. Combined with the haunting melody of Maggie’s song, I felt a chill wash over me, not at all unpleasant. The pearl at my neck warmed under the current of energy and something deep inside me responded, causing a settled feeling. My mind eased into a sense of rightness. Of belonging. I was captured by the spell of Maggie’s song, the scent flowing around me, the life of the tribe, as if their souls strained toward mine. I lifted my eyes and met Athen’s fervent gaze.
“I offer you the bond of my blood. The protection of my body. The loyalty of the tribe.” His voice rang, loud and true, and when the last echo of it faded, he smiled.
I stood frozen, the vow catching me by surprise.
Athen bent his head to mine, his warm dry lips touching each of my cheeks before taking the place on my right side, his presence solid and shield-like. I found my dad and our gazes locked, an anchor keeping me from floating away in this dreamy state I found myself in.
I was hesitant to meet Sterling’s gaze, but I forced mine upward, knowing he had to accept my place. He seemed suddenly out of place, a shadow in this place of light and love. His eyes lingered on mine for a moment. Disappointment weighed down his expression, but there was also a sadness in the depth of his eyes that made me sorry for the loss he suffered.
“May the goddess bless your choice.” Sterling inclined his head.
Those gathered—my family, my tribe—repeated his words, an incantation that stole over my skin like an embrace. Then, when I thought we were through, Athen held up his hand. His voice carried on the wind. “I call for a second.”
A further hush fell over the gathering. Only the waves wouldn’t keep silent, seemingly one with Maggie’s voice. Sol moved into my line of vision from across the circle. His eyes locked onto mine as if he were asking permission, for what I wasn’t sure.
“I stand as second.” Noah stepped forward from his place right outside my peripheral. Bowing slightly to Athen, he then turned to face Sterling.
“Very well,” Sterling said in a conciliatory tone, his sharp eyes measuring.
I stood silently, looking up into Noah’s face, the strong, formidable line
of his jaw. His full mouth tilting on the ends. His eyes intent, his gaze like a touch. No one told me about the possibility of a second. He took my hand in his and repeated the vow my father had spoken to me, the wording only slightly different.
“My bond is yours. You have the protection of my body. The loyalty of the tribe. Your Song,” he said, and his voice rang strong with commitment, “I will always answer.” He lifted my hand to his lips, and the pearl I already wore sparked to life, sealing his words, as if branding them into my skin. Keeping my hand in his, he took the place on my left.
So much for symbolic. So much for mere formality. This felt real. Noah’s words were real. Their impact to my heart real. It still stuttered.
He said always.
Maggie’s voice drifted away on the wind and as it did, the spell I felt I’d been under was broken.
“That wasn’t so bad was it, Athen.” Sterling lifted his fluted glass to his lips and took a sip of the fine champagne. “The only thing that would make this better is a trial.”
Athen stiffened beside me at Sterling’s suggestion. Noah seemed to come alive. I put my hand on his arm and squeezed my protest.
“I presume your second is prepared to fight on your behalf.” Sterling saluted Noah with a tip of his glass.
Noah didn’t hesitate to respond. “I’m prepared.”
“Excellent.” Sterling beamed. He handed his glass off, addressing Noah, his fine brow raised. “Weapon?”
My heart sank to somewhere in the vicinity of my stomach.
“Knives,” Noah responded, and I thought I might throw up. A current of excitement ran over the beach. I felt a sense of dread after having heard the recounting of Athen’s trial. I liked Noah’s fingers. I wondered frantically if there were any way to stop this, but the buttons of Noah’s shirt were already coming undone, his body eager. He peeled it off and tossed it to Jeb, who had come to stand behind me, all too happy to stand in Noah’s corner.
“Finally,” Noah said, his eyes almost glowing. I knew that look. He was going to enjoy this. I was certain I wouldn’t.
* * *
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I said, leaning into Jeb, my voice pitched low.
“Relax Caris. Noah loves this kind of stuff. And it’s like watching the WWF. This is the entertainment. Everyone kind of expects it.”
Even Athen seemed more annoyed than concerned. Now that the more formal part of the ceremony was over, the quiet had broken and the atmosphere resembled something closer to a sporting event. My dad and Mrs. Jacobs stood away from the main group of onlookers, sipping from their glasses. The lines around my dad’s eyes had eased and they both seemed relaxed enough, though Mrs. Jacobs kept sending Noah abeyant looks he returned with a cocky grin.
The circle of spectators tightened when Noah went out to meet Sterling, giving the two a clear arena in which to fight. Sterling had taken off his shirt, and his bare chest gleamed in the firelight. Some good-natured ribbing began, as a few of the bystanders started throwing out advice. Mostly smartass comments from Levi and his cousin. A few from Jeb and others.
“Don’t get cut, Noah,” Sol yelled from somewhere behind me.
Noah and Sterling faced each other as if waiting for a signal to begin. Noah stood a fraction taller. He was younger. I knew he was skilled and fast. But I knew Sterling was skilled too.
“First blood!” someone shouted from the crowd. Noah and Sterling reacted, crouching low, knives held in front of their bodies. They started moving in a slow circle, eyes watchful, assessing each other’s every move and shift.
I took a deep breath and let the tension ease out of my chest. I guess the whole Soulfast part seemed anti-climatic now. I was officially a part of the tribe. I understood the undercurrent of excitement and shared it to a degree. Noah was one of our own pitted against a man most knew only by reputation. They both knew how to handle their weapon, and if Jeb was right and this was for show, I could think of worse things than watching Noah prove his unmatched prowess with a lethal weapon. Shirtless. Watching him do anything had become kind of a pastime for me. Maybe this would be over quick. How long could it take to draw first blood? Not long.
They both moved with agile grace, shifting from foot to foot, perfectly balanced and in control. Their weapons held as an extension of their arms. Beautiful, like a well-choreographed dance. My apprehension eased with each lunge and feint as they both settled into a pattern.
Just as I started to relax, the intensity of their movements increased as though they’d just been warming up before, testing each other. Their attempted strikes became more precise, more purposeful. It was obvious they were trying to make contact, fine steel to tender flesh. Noah was the quicker of the two, light on his feet, considering his size. But there was a menace in Sterling’s eyes and for all that he was decades older, he moved with the efficiency of someone much younger.
First blood came quick at the tail end of an impressive series of moves that ended with Noah’s blade slicing cleanly across the right side of Flores’s chest. A line of blood welled over the smooth skin. It was over that fast. Noah relaxed his stance and dropped his knife hand to his side. He’d barely broken a sweat.
“Is that the best you can do? I’ve had paper cuts worse than this,” Sterling mocked, his whole demeanor ever challenging. Noah’s smile faded, his eyes dark in the shadow of his face.
“Can’t we make them stop?” I asked Jeb.
“Hell no,” Jeb said. “It’s just starting to get good.”
“I thought this was just for show?” I worried.
“It is. He’s fine. They won’t go for anything vital.” Jeb crossed his arms in front of his chest and yelled something to Noah. Others in the crowd, sensing a heightened seriousness, started to take sides and were being vocal about their preference. Levi offered a piece of advise to Sterling under his breath and I scowled at him across the arena of fine sand. He flashed me a smile and shrugged as if to say, “It’s all in fun.”
Yeah, I was ready for the fun to end.
My eyes tracked Noah, the way his muscles bunched and flexed, the precision and speed with which he executed each move. Despite Noah’s quickness, Sterling maneuvered close enough for his blade to slice across Noah’s right cheek, just under his eye. A collective gasp went up from those of us watching. His cheek was uncomfortably close to those vital spots of throat and eyes.
Sterling smirked, and Noah responded with a lunge and jab that caught Sterling in the top of his thigh. Crimson blossomed on the fabric of his white pants. Sterling grimaced, but like Noah, he seemed to feed off the pain. Neither man slowed. In another minute, Noah was bleeding in several places. A two-inch cut on his forearm. One low on his left hip above the waistband of his pants. Sterling bled too, but I was more concerned with Noah’s blood. And there was too much of it.
“Make them stop,” I said, but no one was listening. How could they? They were all cheering them on. Only Mrs. Jacobs and Athen looked on with disapproval. My eyes collided with Athen’s across the ever-tightening circle of spectators.
Do something.
Noah and Sterling kept at each other. Feint. Strike. Blood. The pattern continued for endless minutes until Noah moved so fast, and instead of moving away from Sterling’s blade, he moved right into it.
Noah hissed between his teeth as Sterling’s blade sliced deep and true across his lower abdomen. Blood welled so thick I thought I could smell it. My mind rebelled at the sight of Noah’s blood flowing over his skin. It pooled on the top of his pants, seeping into the fabric. This was no longer a game, no longer for show. They were both out for blood and they were getting it. With every slash and strike there was more of it.
Athen barked something, his voice loud and sharp. A command to stop? I couldn’t hear for my own blood thrumming in my ears. Jeb shifted restlessly beside me as if he too were finally seeing how this could end no way but badly.
Neither would back down now. Not with their pride at stake. Not with the
tribe watching. They would cut each other to pieces first. Hadn’t Noah warned me no one ever won a knife fight? What was wrong with everybody? How could Athen let them continue when it was clear there would be no winner? This wasn’t proving anything.
Blood mixed with sweat. The only sign Noah and Sterling were tiring was the heavy rise and fall of their bare chests. I knew Noah could keep this up for hours. He’d bleed to death before he’d tire. If either of them had an advantage it was Noah. He still moved with an effortless grace. Sterling’s hair had come loose from its binding and stuck to his neck and shoulders.
Athen moved and I hoped he was finally going to put an end to this. As if sensing Athen’s intent, Sterling put up one last assault. Noah deflected Sterling’s first strike of blinding steel, but the second came in fast. His blade sliced deep right across the base of the fingers of Noah’s left hand, ripping the flesh wide open. Noah grunted. I gasped, my hand flew to my mouth. Before I could stop it, a bolt of lightning flashed in the sky, cutting right between the two of them, the precision of the strike so perfect it shocked every last person into stillness. Heat sizzled the air, burning my nostrils.
Silence. It fell over the beach sudden and total. I lifted my chin, my lip quivering.
“Stop,” I whispered. “Please. Stop.”
My skin sang. I knew I looked like a glow stick. I felt the heat in my eyes. My dad was making his way over to me, Mrs. Jacobs right behind him, her face pale.
Levi’s laughter broke the electric tension. “I guess you better do as she says before she fries us all.”
Sterling stared at me, blue eyes blazing like flame. His laugh, when it came, was sharp and loud and full of derision. “My dear niece. You’ve been keeping secrets.” Sterling sheathed his knife, his hard gaze pointed. His gate was stiff when he turned for the gulf and the healing it offered. I wished he wouldn’t come back.
Noah hadn’t moved and he bled in more places than I wanted to count. The worst was his hand. His fingers hung useless, covered in a layer of blood. It dripped in thick blobs into the white sand. His knife slipped from his other hand and fell into the sand on a soft scrape. He walked towards me a few steps then stopped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
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