“I’m sorry she broke it. I…”
Gere crouched down and gently laid his fingertips upon her pallet. “Colette, something happened when she touched it.”
His words were not harsh at all. She found herself un-clenching jaw, fists, shoulders. “But she ruined it,” Colette replied. “The whole next season will be affected because of it.”
“No,” he breathed, as if still in wonder. “The sphere itself, yes, but the power cell that was housed within… It was removed to test for damage. And…it’s incredible, Colette.” A smile spread across his face like dawn opening up upon a dark sky. “And I thought she must surely have gotten hurt. I barely believed the healers when they sa—”
Colette interrupted. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s like real sunlight. No blue.”
“Real sun? What do you mean, Gere?” Colette asked. She felt dizzy from this bizarre turn.
“Whatever Mari did to the spherisol was the missing piece we’ve been searching for all these orbits. I was so scared for her…for you.” He flushed and continued. “She gave it power somehow, as though she were the sun itself.” He laughed sheepishly at the silly conjecture.
“Child of the sun?” Colette muttered. “Could it be?”
Gere’s forehead wrinkled up in puzzlement.
“We are lunitata. Do you remember? Our skins glow as if they were a light source—sun, moon, whatever. Long ago, they called us children of the sun, sometimes children of the moon. It really has not been something I’ve given much thought to. I’ve never been a great light.” Colette paused until a new thought occurred to her. “Gere, how have the plants and fish reacted?”
Gere’s face lit up further. “It’s still so early, but the small tests done so far are showing only good things. I actually received seal this morning: the plants are turning green.”
“Like her eyes,” mumbled Colette. She leaned back in her pallet, spent. It was so much to consider, however relieving. Was this what I was sensing all this time? A connection with the spherisols?
“You must come back! You must return! You’re indispensable to the Tindel. If a single touch of her hand could do this…” Gere beamed with the possibilities.
Fury flared awake with an alarming speed and thrust down her growing excitement. “Will your people agree to save Massada?” Colette asked sharply. She had been little more than dirt to the Tindel until now. Indispensable. She curled her lips back at the injustice.
Still… Maybe this is my bartering piece.
Gere’s face lengthened, and slowly he shook his head. “I cannot see it happening. I’m sorry, Colette.”
Her cheeks rouged as heat raged through her veins. Colette pushed his pale hands from the bed and watched him retract as if he were touching fire. She stared at him venomously.
“Do not come to me and seek my help when you refuse something of far greater importance. You want me to help you to thrive while you let my own wither to nothing?”
Gere’s face tightened. “You still feign ignorance?”
A bitter taste ran through her mouth. “What are you talking about? Always riddles with you Tindel!”
“It is impossible for me—for any Tindel—to believe that the emissary between our peoples truly knows nothing of our pasts. You cannot toy with us any longer, Colette.”
“Toy? Your people have only ignored me since I arrived, save to insult,” she hissed. “And you? You order me to speak truth, but never a word of explanation passes your mouth as to why I am so abhorrent.”
“Colette! You would’ve been accepted with our kind. If you’d but stayed and…” Gere’s eyes, softening as he gazed upon her, spoke more eloquently than his lips. “You could’ve been one of us… You still can. Come. Please.”
“One of you?” She shook her head, feeling the strength of her old self return with her ire. “Gere, I came to save my people, not to have a romance in the blue. I’d rather die in the wilting terrisdans than cower back in the peri to watch life perish around me because I chose ease. Or like you: indifference.”
“Indifference?” he roared with a sudden vehemence. “Indifference? Why do you think we secreted and housed Heart Render for your kind all these orbits? Why we’ve lived out in the peri and sought to find a way to live? We are preserving life.”
“Preserving?” she bellowed back. “Do you not see that you’re abandoning your own in their greatest need?”
He stood, fists clenched in anger. “We cannot take back our oath. It was decided before. We cannot undo it.”
“What are you talking about?” Colette yelled, throwing up her hands. “Enough with the secrecy! Enough with the hidden meanings! Speak plainly!”
“You’ll never destroy your precious portals,” Gere said in a rush of emotion. “You must be planning something with the wretched maralane.”
Colette closed her mouth, and her spine straightened in amazement. When she spoke, her voice was soft and layered with emotion, “Gere. Tell me about the portals.”
Gere’s faded gray eyes widened in disbelief. His voice issued out weakly, as though his very lungs had collapsed. “Arman truly didn’t tell you? How can this be? How?”
Colette’s frame sagged. She shook her head dejectedly. “No, Arman didn’t send me. He may never have even known I was to be the one to go. Someone brought me Heart Render and told me I was to seek help… I’m completely ignorant about the portals.”
Has this truly been the source of my woe all along? New meaning flooded upon Colette, and her cheeks flushed as she realized how her presence would have seemed to them: Massada sent an emissary completely tied to the portals; her very soumme had come through them. And her child…
I’ve been an unshakable source of contention for them. They could never choose Massada with me standing before them.
Gere frowned, and the newly weathered creases on his face tightened. “Who chose you?”
“A frawnite named Pearl. A winged fool.” She peered into his face and realized she had no desire to hold anything back any longer. It had been her undoing, and it must stop. “She didn’t tell me much, but she was apparently under an oath to protect Massada.”
The clansman brightened. “Is it so? She was under gortei?”
“Yes. She was to come with me, yet she did not make it very far past the borders of Veronia. She…” Colette hesitated for a breath, but then continued, “She disappeared after our first night in the blue.”
“Pearl.” He rolled the name upon his lips, testing out the taste and feel of the word.
“Tell me, Gere.”
The clansman nodded vehemently. “The maralane wove the portals long ago, claiming it was for the good of the world.” His face went hard as he continued. “Eventually, foreigners began to arrive through them. Massadans agreed that it was objectionable to have these open doors—anything could come through! But after one particular encounter with evil, a cluster of humans—the Tindel—met and concluded that the portals must be closed for the safety of Massada. They decided to destroy them, but the maralane refused, arguing that the portals were the exclusive territory of the lake. They spoke of prophesies and books and other rubbish fish tales and would not allow the land to be touched.
“The contention was so great that the Tindel pledged an oath together; they’d not return to the green until the portals were destroyed and would instead move out to the outskirts of the terrisdans. They trained and prepared for the worst. They wanted to preserve life in the instance that something truly terrible emerged from the portals. Eventually, they moved out on the peri and learned to live even in the most bitter places.
“Many orbits later they took that wretched sword from your kind to again save you from destruction. And that is the Tindel: a people of gortei. We’ve continued the pledge with every generation, to not move back to the terrisdans until the portals are destroyed, and in the meantime, we prepare for the worst for the sake of the world. It’s written in our blood now, as plainly as the pale skin
and faded coloring. We’ve only sought to survive and to save those who would choose life in the end.”
Colette breathed in his words, hushed by their significance. They were right all along. An evil did come through. We needed help then, and we need their help now.
“We will destroy the portals,” she said. As the words ribboned out, her thoughts immediately turned to her soumme. Does this mean I could find Bren? Could he ever still love me? Does he live?
“The maralane are obstinate.” The loathing in Gere’s face turned his countenance ugly.
Colette rubbed her features with one hand. Coffee-colored strands of hair fell into her face in the movement. “How have you not heard?” She exhaled slowly. “No. The maralane are no more. They passed many orbits ago.” Her voice was somber.
Gere looked as though he had been hit in the gut. “You speak truly?”
She nodded.
“By the Three! What have we been doing this last orbit?” he said with horror. His hands ran to his gaping mouth. Now he perceived how she must have seen the situation, seen the Tindel. And how the Tindel had failed in exactly the mission they held so dear: preserving life.
“Don’t wait any longer. Please. Save us all,” Colette pleaded. Deep within, a sliver of hope sparked. It was a welcome emotion after so long a time.
Gere closed his eyes and muttered under his breath. His entire countenance was drenched with shame.
“What?” Colette asked warily.
He opened his eyes. His lips spread into a grimace. “Forgive us, Colette.”
“What?” she repeated. Her face was tight with fear.
“We… The Tindel thought Massada was being dishonest… They—we—thought you and Arman were not telling us all.”
“And?”
Gere’s words tumbled out in a rush. “Arman came looking for you. He did not speak of the sword. He did not speak of Chaul. It seemed as though he was trying to trick us for some purpose. The clansman who met with him told the juile he knew nothing of you.”
Colette’s face paled. Strangely, there was no anger. No, the lunitata only knew dread. The world might be saved now, but it was likely at the cost of all she held dear. Bren…
Gere’s pleading face drew her to the present.
Though she could hardly breathe, still she graciously dipped her head. “I forgive all. I… Yes, I forgive.” She swallowed back her emotions; they would have to be dealt with later.
“Your mercy is my bounty,” Gere replied. “Truly.”
Colette granted a small smile, even though her insides quaked.
Gere nodded and straightened his frame. He strode slowly to the door, an unwillingness in his soft steps. “Colette… I…” His face flushed a pale pink, and he stammered forward. “I-I… Did you leave because of me? Because of my…what I said?”
Colette sighed. This conversation was more than she could have ever anticipated. She raised her eyes to his, realizing there was no avoiding seeing it through to its entirety now. “Gere. I have a soumme, and I’ve made my own oath to be faithful. I came here to save life. In choosing you, I would abandon him and my people. I couldn’t do that, no matter what I felt inside.”
The downturned eyes leaped up. “What did you feel?”
The hope in his voice rent her heart. I must do it for all our sakes. “Loneliness,” she said with a clear voice. “Only loneliness.”
Gere winced. He straightened and looked at her with a pained maturity. “I’ll talk with my people. We won’t let the green die.” He strode out dejectedly, but also with the composure that never left his kind.
Oh, please let them hear, she prayed, finding the words whispering from her lips without intention: “My cartess.”
CHAPTER 23
Do not envy another man’s talent. His gift is often his burden.
-Genesifin
“Do you need help destroying them?” Brenol asked as they moved through the lugazzi. The task seemed insurmountable, for at least a hundred portals littered the region around the lake. He did not even know how to break down one.
Arman merely shook his head and sniffed. While the frozen surface gave little scent, traces of sweetness still clung to the sharp breeze and told him they were near. He glanced around with grim expression. The wildlife was even scarcer than he had expected. The dwindling sustenance of the waters and land seemed to drape Ziel in an eerie and cold silence. It pained him to think of the devastation that would play out if securing the portals did not draw assistance from the perideta. The lost sword still held the threat of impending doom over his heart.
“But there are so many…”
Arman tugged his mind away from his musings to face the man. The juile’s face was drawn and serious. “Bren, I’ve sent seal to the wolves. They know the portal territory better than any. They already have a plan.”
“Oh.”
A twig cracked behind them, and Arman stiffened, raising to his full height with a sudden and alarming power. Just as speedily, though, he lowered himself and let his dark hand sway from the dangerous folds of his robe.
A wolf emerged, winded but alert. His once jet-black coat was peppered gray with age, and he had a single white streak ranging from his left eye to the tip of his snout. His eyes were as hard and unfeeling as those of every wolf Brenol had ever met.
He growled in greeting to Arman, ignoring Brenol save to fix him with a stare from his left eye. “The wolf sealtors are collected. We should have enough supplies once the ignalli arrive. You’re certain?”
Arman nodded decisively. “This is the only way. Thank you, Heax. Your kind has been gracious in the matter. I know it will change things for you.”
The wolf let out a single bark, sounding much like a derisive laugh. “The icing’s already done that.”
“When will you begin?”
“At your direction,” Heax growled, remarkably at ease with following orders from a juile.
“Heax?” Arman asked. His face was severe, but his voice lacked emotion. “Will you open the portal if Bren chooses to return to Alatrice?”
The beast grunted, finally allowing both eyes to zero in upon the human. Brenol’s spine quivered alive. Without a word, he dipped his snout down in agreement.
Arman inhaled and faced Brenol. “If you intend to go, Heax can show you the portal.” The juile bowed with his usual grace and said simply, “I pray it will be bountiful, Brenol Tilted-Ash.”
Brenol’s face tightened, and his cheeks hollowed into a gaunt seriousness. His decision—one he had already thought complete—was soon upon him, and it now seemed far more complex than he had anticipated. The wrenching pain of losing Colette was unbearable, but to flee? To leave forever? To part from Arman? His head reeled with the possibilities now solidly before him.
“May bounty be ours,” Arman said, and swept from the clearing with speed.
~
Standing beside the large beast, Brenol shuffled his feet uncomfortably.
“Let’s move,” Heax said gruffly. He bounded forward without awaiting a response.
Brenol attempted to keep pace as they hastened through the trees, but the man could not match the sliding and effortless gait of the wolf, and when Heax eventually slowed ahead of him, Brenol was red-faced and breathing roughly.
Brenol covered the remaining distance to the beast but paused as the wolf padded into a clearing. His neck tingled in unease as he took in the scene; a pack of at least a dozen wolves milled about the small space.
Some treaded around the clearing, some rested upon their haunches. Trotting into the mix, Heax joined the party and seated himself quietly but expectantly. Brenol lingered indecisively at the edge of the trees, assessing the gathering before him.
A fierce, starkly white wolf let out a bark and, at this prompt, a man emerged from the forest. He was clothed in loose blue pants and a jacket and seemed unconcerned with the many creatures before him. His elongated face had clear, creamy skin and a serpentine smile, and his dark jade eyes fli
ckered in amusement under a crop of raven hair. He moved with precision and agility.
Brenol’s stomach squirmed. This was not the first ignalli he had encountered, but this one was particularly unsettling.
“Torgot,” the white wolf said in greeting.
The ignalli pushed his tongue fractionally into his cheek as acknowledgment but did not speak.
“You brought the maralane tears?”
The ignalli smiled widely. “Of course.”
The clearing grew tense in anticipation, waiting for the strange man to act. Eventually the white wolf spoke curtly, his irritation evident. “Where?”
Torgot patted his bag. “The ignalli were entrusted with them. So we shall carry them.”
The wolf laughed. “Just give the tears to us, you fool.”
Torgot’s brow narrowed, and he stared into the bright green eyes.
The wolf met the gaze without anxiety, finally spreading his mouth into a sneering, awful smile. “Fine. I don’t care. Do our work for us.”
Heax growled in interruption and addressed the lead wolf. “The agreement was that the ignalli would only supply the tears. Arman won’t like this change of plan.” He stared hard at Torgot. “This man is not to be trusted.”
Torgot grinned.
The white wolf laughed dismissively. “I do not care what the juile says. Let the ignalli destroy the portals for us if they want to.”
“They were entrusted with nothing,” Heax persisted. “They merely took the tears when the maralane died.”
The other wolf remained unmoved. “We’ll look over the work after it’s been done. Enough, Heax.”
He threw his neck back and pointed his snout to the sky, howling loud and long. Soon the forest was flooded with the reverberating chords of lupine song as the party of wolves answered, though Heax did not join. The sound carried an eerie beauty but was unquestionably hair-raising.
When they quieted, the beasts did not speak to one another. They simply dispersed, trotting off in every direction. It was like watching seeds scattering in the wind. Soon, Torgot and Heax were the only two left in the clearing.
The Forbidding Blue Page 31