Gaia's Secret

by Barbara Kloss

  “Do you need anything else?” He cut me off in a tone that was both tired and firm.

  “No,” I said. “Thank you.”

  He held my gaze. Something sad and pained flashed through his eyes, and then he closed the door behind him.

  And I was alone.

  It was strange being in Alex’s room. I felt like an intruder, but somehow worse. Like all his furniture was glaring at me. After a few moments of convincing myself that he hadn’t embedded his personality into his furnishings, I peeked around.

  I wandered over to the bookshelves. The titles were strange. Magic. Weaponry. The Art of Defense. Tenets of Tracking. Elementary Antidotes. They were probably related to his studies. If I weren’t so uncomfortable, I would’ve loved to peruse his book collection—have Alex introduce them himself. I certainly could use the distraction. As it was, I hesitated to touch anything. I didn’t feel like I’d earned the right to pour through his personal belongings.

  There were a few odd shaped objects leaning against one corner: a couple fat, wooden sticks, a thin metal rod, and something else with a bronze handle. I stepped closer and pulled it just enough from its case to see the metal gleaming in the candlelight. A real sword. Alex and I always fought when we were little, but never with weapons. Had he learned how since then?

  There’s probably a lot you don’t know about him. Maybe you could find out if you just talked to him.

  Frustrated, I slid the sword back in its sheath, walked to his bed and sat on the thick wool blankets.

  Was this what it felt like to have an identity crisis? Except it wasn’t my identity in crisis, it was everyone else’s. The identities of every person of worth in my life had been overturned and were replaced by something fantastic and bewildering.

  I pulled my dad’s letter out of my pocket and read his words again. Just seeing his handwriting comforted me. At least one thing in my life hadn’t changed. Dad still loved me.

  I wanted to keep my letter somewhere safe, so I opened the little drawer in Alex’s nightstand. Just as I started to place the letter in it, I paused. There was a photo in the drawer. It seemed out of place in this world void of technology—at least from my experiences so far. Curious, I pulled it out.

  It was a photo of Alex and me, taken years ago. I remembered the day perfectly. One summer, Dad had let me stay with the Del Contes—Andersons to me then—for a few weeks. Alex and I, the adventurers we were, had decided to build a treehouse. Well, I had decided I wanted us to have a treehouse and Alex had figured out how to build it. He had always been the industrious one, so good with his hands.

  We had spent every day, from dawn till dusk, sawing and nailing boards together. When I kept missing the nails and hitting my fingers, Alex had insisted I stick to painting. I hadn’t listen and had worked harder with my purple nails and saw-dusted hair. It had been completed in no time. On the day we finished, we had brought his camera. I even remembered arguing with him on how to use the timer function, but he had wanted to take the photo himself. So, the photo had ended up being a close-up of us, our cheeks pressed together with blurred wooden slats in the background. Not much to show for our hard labor.

  That was the Alex I remembered, dark hair in disarray over his forehead, tanned face with sun burnt cheeks, those green eyes bright and full of life, and a smile that always lifted my spirit. That was the Alex I cherished, the Alex that didn’t care at all about me. But if our friendship didn’t mean anything, why would he keep this photo here?

  A knock sounded on the door. I shoved the photo back in the drawer and placed the letter on top of it.

  Just as I closed the drawer, the door creaked open and Sonya peered in. “Are you too exhausted to talk for a moment?”

  “Yes…I mean, no, I’m not too exhausted.”

  She stepped in the room, her black hair in a plait over her shoulder. In her hands was a burlap sack, the one Alex had brought from my home. I’d forgotten all about it. She sat beside me, setting the bag in her lap.

  Those eyes of hers were penetrating. “How are you feeling, dear?”

  “A little overwhelmed.”

  She nodded, her expression tender as always. “I’m sure you are, but you’re holding yourself exceptionally well. Your spirit is much stronger than mine.” Her smile widened in response to the doubtful look on my face. “You weren’t supposed to find out like this. Life never obeys our plans, I’m afraid. But, I don’t want to keep you awake much longer so I’ll get to my point. I brought you something for our journey.”

  She held the bag before me. I took it from her, set it on my lap and opened the flap. Varying shades of brown leather lay folded within.

  Sonya nodded for me to continue.

  One by one, I pulled the items out: a thin, brown leather top and pants, a matching leather belt, and a pair of tall, earthy-brown leather boots. A pattern of swirls was etched into the belt with small loops attached around it. And, strangely enough, everything looked like it was exactly my size.

  “They belonged to your mother.”

  I stared at the pile of keepsakes in my lap. I’d never owned anything that belonged to my mom. Never even seen anything of hers.

  “They were her traveling clothes. I know they may seem unusual to you, but they are normal here—for travel. Alaric planned to give them to you the day he brought you here. I know he’d want you to have them now. They should fit; you’re the exact same build as Aurora.”

  My mother. A woman I never knew, who never knew me. I’d heard more of her in the past few days than my entire life, and with everything that was happening, I felt like I needed her more than ever. I couldn’t help but think, had she been alive, none of this would be happening. Dad wouldn’t be gone, the Del Contes wouldn’t have lied, and Alex…

  “She would be so proud of you.” Sonya’s voice turned quiet. “I remember the day she told me she was pregnant with you. She was thrilled when she found out you’d be a little girl. She used to dream of you, you know. We talked about all the memories the two of you would share,” Sonya’s voice cracked. Her eyes were glossy as she stared at nothing, as if the memory played in the spaces of the room for only her to see. And then she shut her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Her large dark eyes settled on me again, great sorrow pouring over me. “I loved your mother with all my heart, and I count myself blessed to have the liberty of knowing her daughter and watching her grow into such a beautiful and strong young woman.”

  My own throat constricted, my chest heavy as I gazed down at the precious folds of leather in my lap. I wasn’t strong. I tried to be, but I failed.

  Sonya stood beside my bed, laying her hand over mine. “Get some rest, dear. I’ll wake you in the morning.”

  She bent over, kissed my forehead, and crossed the room.

  “Sonya.”

  She paused, turning her head to look at me.

  “Thank you.”

  She smiled a weary smile, and left.

  Sonya’s words pricked my heartstrings. They shaped the vague idea of my mom into an actual person with feelings and desires. A woman that had loved me. A woman that had been excited to share memories with me—her only daughter. A woman that might have taught me to deal with everything I was feeling.

  My fingers brushed over the supple leather. Leather my mother had worn.

  I sat on Alex’s bed, listening to the soft patter of constant rain. After everything I’d experienced, this last part had been the hardest to hear because my already strained mind had no more strength left. I had clothing from a mom I’d never known, a letter from a dad that left me in a strange world, and a photo from a friend who, at one time, meant the world to me.

  My eyes began to sting and my vision blurred.

  I walked the clothing to Alex’s dresser and carefully set them on it, stroking the fabric before returning to his bed. There was an ache deep inside of my chest as I tugged off my boots and lay down, my strong wall crumbling around me.

  Just as another wave of heavy
rain shattered across the window, my tears burst free, streaming down my cheeks. For the second time in my life, my churning emotions surged beyond restraint and my body responded in the only way it knew how. With laments that only my pillow could hear, I cried myself to sleep.

  Chapter 9

  Rook

  The sound of sharp scraping pulled me out of my nightmares. I’d been running away from shadows, fighting against the invisible sea I ran through, my legs sluggish and immovable. Alex had appeared, the Alex from my youth. His hand was extended as he pleaded for me to hurry, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to me. But when I grabbed on to his hand he faded into a fine, white mist, and floated towards the sky, disappearing into the clouds above.

  I woke with a start, all covered in sweat. My room was dark except for a line of light that shone beneath my door. I heard soft shuffling about the house. Everyone must be awake.

  That scraping sounded again, followed by a very high-pitched whine.

  Crawling out of my warm blankets, I made my way to the door, careful not to run into anything. My bedside candle was the only source of light in the room, but I needed matches for that. Why didn’t these people use electricity here?

  My lids felt heavy and swollen; my eyes were tender as I creaked the door open.

  Egan ran right into my legs.

  “Oh, good!” Sonya said. “You’re awake. I was on my way to get you.”

  Sonya stood at the end of the hall wearing a very strange outfit. And as much as I tried, my murky eyes couldn’t make sense of it.

  “Go ahead and change into Aurora’s clothing and meet us below. We’ll be leaving in a bit.” She disappeared down the stairs.

  Thick slobber now coated my hands, wrists, and most of my arm. If I wasn’t awake before, Egan was fixing that now.

  “Egan!” Thad exited a room off the hall. He smiled at me. “Morning, Rook. You look terrible. Awake yet?”

  I rubbed my temples, and immediately dropped my hands. They were soaked. “I’m getting there.”

  “Better hurry up and change,” he said, and started down the stairs, calling Egan after him.

  Egan slumped his head, tail between his legs, and followed Thad.

  I walked back to my room—Alex’s room—and shut the door. It was too dark to do anything so I opened the brown curtains. The moon was still in the sky, lighting the room just enough so that I could see shadows. And I changed into my mom’s clothes.

  After squeezing myself into the tight leather pants and top, I realized I wasn’t just like my mom. She’d obviously had hips. The pants were loose where my hips should be, but the belt helped, and the top sagged a little at the bust. The boots pulled snug over my legs, but they’d be comfortable enough to walk in.

  For a few moments I moved my arms and legs, getting used to the feel of the leather. If anything, this strange outfit made me confident in my decision to follow the Del Contes. It would’ve taken me awhile to find something to wear—especially something that would fit.

  After combing my fingers through my long, wavy hair, I made Alex’s bed the best I could in the dark, grabbed my dad’s letter out of the drawer, and made my way down the stairs.

  Of course Alex was right in my path, crouched beside the front door and fiddling with the ties on one of the packs.

  The leather threads on his ivory tunic were left untied at his neck, showing off a lean, muscular chest. An array of daggers hung around the thick belt at his narrow waist; leather pants and boots boasted of the slender strength beneath them.

  The boy from the photo was gone. Replaced by this…thing.

  He stopped what he was doing and stood. A wave of amusement passed over me.

  When I glanced up, he was looking at me with a raised brow and a grin. “You look…charming.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Save it.”

  His grin disappeared but he continued to study my face. “Your eyes look swollen. Was my bed…uncomfortable for you?”

  Before I was forced to come up with some excuse for my puffy eyes, Egan came bounding in, Cicero right behind him. He was dressed just like his son, carrying another pack full of gear that was smaller than the others.

  “You’re awake.” Cicero smiled, standing before me. “You’re the specter of your mother. Here.” He set the pack at my feet. “This one’s for you.”

  Egan examined it with his nose, and then his slobbery tongue.

  “Have you mapped out our route?” Alex turned towards his dad.

  “There’s an alternate path through the woods that should get us there by nightfall.”

  Alex adjusted his belt. “Isn’t that a little late?”

  “We aren’t in any particular hurry, and I want to avoid the main roads. Besides, Stefan isn’t sending the horses to Rex Cross till tomorrow morning.”

  “I bet ol’ Otis is having trouble containing his enthusiasm.”

  Cicero frowned. “It’s just one night.”

  “But one glance at us reeks havoc on him for a few months,” Alex countered. “You know members of the king’s guard aren’t considered good company by most of the realm these days.”

  “We have no choice. Plus, it’ll place us near the Kirkwoods, which will cover our tracks until we reach the Arborenne.”

  More names. More places. All of them bouncing around in my head. None of them sticking anywhere.

  What I needed was a map and a good month to study it.

  Sonya appeared with everyone’s cloaks. She wore leathers—just like mine. However, hers had sheets of deep green fabric attached at her waist, hanging down to her ankles with long slits for movement. It didn’t matter what the woman wore. She always epitomized elegance.

  She paused before me in appraisal. “You look just like her dressed like that.” She handed me my cloak. “How does it feel?”

  “I’m not sure yet. Ask me tonight.”

  She grinned, then lifted one of the packs and shrugged into it. Cicero and Alex did the same, so I followed. Its weight wasn’t unbearable, but a week of this might be painful.

  I noticed the gleaming silver handle of a long sheathed sword attached to Alex’s pack. Well, this answered one question. He had learned how to fight with weapons. And apparently, so had the rest of the Del Contes. Between Cicero and Sonya, there were daggers, swords, and a bow and quiver. And I had nothing.

  Thad’s words drifted through my mind. “Makes you wonder what else they’re not telling you.”

  When Alex and I fought, back when we actually got along, we were pretty evenly matched. I’d thought it was because of my skill. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized he probably let me win those times that I did.

  Thad was standing beside me, eyeing the small loops on my belt.

  “They aren’t supposed to be empty.”

  “Would you like to make the first contribution?” I asked.

  “What, give you a dagger?” He laughed. “No, thanks. I don’t want your blood on my hands. The secret service would kill me. But I do have something for you—something even you can’t hurt anyone with.”

  He held out his fist, palm side up. His hand opened, and sitting on his palm was a chess piece. The rook. “Remember me on your travels, Rook,” he whispered. “When you get tired of Del Can’t’s charms, you can brainstorm your strategy.”

  I chuckled. He pushed his palm closer so I took it and shoved it in my pocket. It was a tight fit, but it would work.

  “Are we ready?” Cicero fastened the last dagger to his belt. How many did the man need? I was surrounded by an arsenal…with legs.

  “Thad,” Sonya said. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

  “Always a pleasure, Mrs. Del Conte.” Thad bowed.

  Sonya and Cicero were making last minute adjustments while Thad walked to Alex and smacked him hard on the back.

  “Don’t miss me too much. Oh!” Thad leaned over and whispered something in Alex’s ear. Alex grinned, shaking his head. I had a strong feeling whatever he said had to do
with me.

  Thad turned his mischievous face to me. Seeing I was on to him, his smiled widened. “Have fun with the secret service, and remember what I told you…about the shadows.”

  He winked and disappeared down the hall.

  Alex still had the grin on his face as he looked after Thad, then his eyes moved to mine. The smile dropped. It was good to see I elicited the same feelings in him as he did in me.

  Cicero cleared his throat.

  Alex and I both turned our attention to his dad, whose face was serious. “We must remain undetected, so no speaking, at least until I give the go ahead. We’ll rest once we are further away. And Daria…it’s imperative you stay close at all times. This world isn’t safe for you. Follow our instructions—even if you don’t agree. Trust us implicitly—even if you don’t want to. We will get you to Alaric without harm, as long as you do what we say. Do you understand?”

  I understood plenty. They expected me to hand over my freedom on a silver platter and trust them to keep it safe. Exactly what I didn’t want to do. But I’d been down this trail. There weren’t any other options for me, yet. At least none that made any practical sense. So I was forced to accept their offer and take my consequences later.

  Maybe Thad had been on to something.

  The morning air was crisp, the world quiet with anticipation as we walked away from the cottage. We headed in the opposite direction from which we’d come. Our path remained unmarked all morning, not that it would’ve mattered. I rarely noticed where I stepped because I was so enthralled by the scenery. It wasn’t because this forest was so different than any forest back home. Sure, the trunks were thicker and grander, and the canopy above was the most vivid green I’d ever seen. But what kept me entranced was the life all around me. I could feel it.

  With every light breeze, every swaying branch, every rocking treetop, there was life. Not just the chemical life that all natural plants share. Here, in this place, it was as if they had a soul, like they were connected to one another, speaking to one another in whispers. Just as I thought I could discern a word, the sound would flit away, drowning in the breeze.