by RS McCoy
Again, he lifted the axe and sent it sailing into the next limb. One by one, he worked his way down the length of the branch, removing the pieces too small to be useful. Heat coursed through his muscles, and his lungs worked to get enough air, but Parson wouldn’t stop.
It felt too good to hit something, even if it was just this dead tree.
Sunlight streamed through the new hole in the canopy and baked him in spring heat. Sweat slicked his fingers until his two-dozen rings slid with every swing. His moss-green tunic clung to his sweat-coated skin, suffocating him.
Parson stopped swinging his axe long enough to peel off his tunic and toss it on a nearby limb. Then, he collected his tool and resumed, relishing the cooling breeze across his torso.
He’d only cut three more branches when he heard Da’s whistle, the usual call.
Da wasn’t a large man, and his totem was even smaller—a red fox—but somehow, within the confines of the Alderwood, he could whistle louder than anyone.
Parson groaned and fought to get his shirt back over his sticky shoulders. Of course Da had seen him take off his tunic. Forbidden, he knew. Sacrilegious to the Alder Mother and all that.
But it was hot, and Parson was beyond caring.
He’d been that way for a while now.
It took him ten minutes to get himself covered and to find Da on the far side of the cut. Prepared for a lecture, Parson was more than a little surprised to find Hale there as well. The youngest Frane son stood stoic as he waited, cool and collected compared to Parson’s agitation.
“Where’s Lathan?” Da asked as his eyes scanned the cut. A dozen men from the clan all worked to process their most recent claim, a ninety-eight year old alder tree—the perfect age to be felled and cleaned for distribution. Completely illegal to harvest, of course, but that’s what made them so valuable.
“What’s going on?” Parson asked his father, but no answer came. He only continued to whistle for Lathan across the cut.
It was Hale who stepped beside Parson and said, “Something he wants to show us. Won’t say a word about it until we’re all here.”
“Da, get on with it. I’ve got work to do,” Parson said, interrupting his father’s whistles. Technically, stripping such useless limbs was the work of one of the younger men in the clan working their way through the process of felling an alder tree, but Parson couldn’t sit still. So while some of the others rested, Parson had taken it upon himself to start stripping the branches. No one would miss him if he didn’t return to finish the branch, but nevertheless, he didn’t want to stand around all afternoon.
“Just hold tight.” Da turned to face them, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He was up to something, but Parson was in no mood to play along.
He clenched his fists and groaned out his impatience.
“It must be important,” Hale continued. “He hasn’t asked for all of us since—”
Since he sold their little sister to a monster. No, not sold. Gave her away. Surely Da thought he was making a fair trade—not even Parson could deny him that—but whatever it was that had been decided between Da and the Vice Syndicate, Da had been cheated. No horses nor grain nor barrels of wine had arrived in exchange for her. Blossom was simply gone, and there was nothing Parson could do about it.
As if shaken by an earthquake, a chasm had split across his chest as he watched his little sister walk away with a stranger that day, never to return. And no matter what he did in the days since, he couldn’t feel any better about it. There was only pain and anger and the gaping hole in her place.
Just as he turned to head back to his work, Lathan arrived. “Can it wait?” he asked. Parson knew his oldest brother harbored the same anger over Blossom’s departure, but Lathan would never say it. He was too quiet, too private in his emotions.
And then there was Hale, who acted like he didn’t even care—like he didn’t even notice she was gone. There was no little sister for Hale to chase, but even so, Parson expected more from him.
“I have a surprise for you three. Come on.” Da put a hand on Lathan’s shoulder and beamed with whatever it was he had in store for them.
Parson tried not to groan as he followed his da and brothers through the woods. It was a good twenty-minute walk between the camp and the cut, a security measure in case one was ever discovered by agents of the Alderai. Today, it felt like a waste of time.
The rays of mid-afternoon sun peeking through the canopy and the birdsongs echoing between the trees did little to settle his mind. He’d rather be doing a hundred different things. Indulging Da’s game only made him more agitated.
Then, his bear nose detected a new scent mixed in with the familiar ones. Along with the lesser totems—the deer and the elk, the rabbits and the beavers—there was something else. Something smoky, like ash, but with a bouquet of scents he’d never encountered. A new person was in their camp—a stranger
And blood. Parson was sure he smelled blood.
Minutes later, the three brothers and Da arrived in the clearing across from Da’s tent. It was the largest in camp, the same moss-green as everything Terra, and was painted with the silhouette of his fox totem above the flap.
Today, a man waited for them there, his feet together and his hands behind his back. Parson knew immediately he was Pyro. His dark hair and skin would have been enough even had he not been wearing the red-and-black of his branch.
And even if Parson hadn’t noticed how the Pyro man stood favoring one leg, he would have had no doubt the man was injured. He reeked of blood.
Something was wrong. Parson knew it as much as anything. The man didn’t cross the realm with his damaged leg and deep-set scowl to deliver good news.
Parson could think of only one reason a Pyro would come to see them.
Blossom was dead.
At his sides, Parson clenched his fists. His blood raced through his veins as his totem form took hold. Hair had already begun to sprout across his shoulders and down his back when Lathan appeared, placing his massive hand on Parson’s chest and shouting something. Parson couldn’t understand his words clearly, but they were enough.
They were just enough to stay his transition.
The momentary distraction brought Parson’s mind back to the clearing, to the Pyro man, to his sister he’d already lost. At the thought of her, grief bubbled up anew until Parson could scarcely breathe.
Da turned to offer Parson a glare over his shoulder before he said, “Sons, may I present Olin Cox of the Lynx Clan of Mount Huntari. Master Olin, these are my sons, Lathan, Parson, and Hale Frane of the Bear Clan of the Alderwood. Welcome.” Da stepped forward and clasped the man’s shoulders, grinning ear to ear.
At least the stranger seemed as disappointed as Parson. Still wearing a frown, he clasped Da’s shoulder in return and bowed his head in respect. “Thank you, Master Frane.”
“She’s inside?” Da sounded like a giddy little girl.
For the first time in weeks, Parson’s pulse raced from something other than anger. She? Could it be? Had this Pyro man brought Blossom home?
The circumstances must have been dire, she’d probably had a horrible time, she may even have been harmed, but she was home.
Somehow, against all odds, Blossom was back where she belonged.
Parson almost knocked Da aside as he crossed the clearing in a few racing steps and barreled into the tent.
But it wasn’t her.
Parson could only stare at the girl who wasn’t his sister. She was tall—probably the tallest girl he’d ever seen—and she had straw-colored hair that hung clear down to her waist. Candlelight bounced off her sapphire eyes staring wide at him. She, too, wore Pyro clothes, revealing her arms, her collarbones, her waist.
She was nothing like his sister.
She wasn’t Blossom.
No sooner was he inside than Da, Lathan, and finally Hale appeared behind him.
And that was all Parson could take. He pushed Hale aside and stomped back into the sunlight o
f the clearing. Someone shouted behind him, but he didn’t have it in him to care.
Chestnut fur already sprung across his shoulders. His face elongated and his clenched fists grew into massive paws. When his form became too heavy, he fell forward at a full run. Parson darted between the trees with no desire to ever come back.
Raene choked back her apprehension and nervous excitement. This was it.
She’d meet her future husband. She’d see Blossom, and convince her to go back to Kaide. All Raene had to do was wait. Her already-simmering tiger’s blood felt ready to explode.
For a full minute, Raene heard the voices outside the tent. One of them was Olin’s—she’d know it anywhere. The others, she had no idea.
Olin had merely sent her in to wait in silence. She’d been standing there for at least half an hour, though with only the light of the flickering candle, it was impossible to know for sure. The conical tent was nothing more than a large piece of heavy green canvas hanging from a tree. A patchwork of mismatched fabrics—all green and brown and golden yellow—covered the floor.
It was a far cry from the grandeur of the manor.
Waiting in such a dull space with no one to talk to and nothing to do had seemed boring at first, but now that she could hear the voices outside, she could barely contain herself.
In a flash, Raene lightly pinched her cheeks to ensure a lovely pink color flushed her face. She soothed down her hair, already re-braided since her travels, and made sure her clothes were as perfect as possible. When she was satisfied she’d done all she could given the circumstances, Raene forced her hands to her sides.
With each passing second, her heart thumped faster and louder, her mounting anticipation and nerves saturating the air around her.
She was here in an Alderwood clan to be married, honoring Kaide’s arrangement. Raene was all too aware the next few moments would determine the rest of her life. She tried to think back to what Blossom had mentioned of her clan—three brothers, all bears—that much Raene remembered.
But she didn’t know which brother Kaide had chosen for her husband.
Then, a man ran into the tent and stopped short, staring at her.
Handsome, mid-twenties. Just right for her.
Raene held back a nervous smile as she measured her future husband. He had broad shoulders and his dark-chestnut hair had fallen into his startling green eyes, the rest of it tied low just off his neck. Several days of growth coated his chin and cheeks, not unlike Kaide’s usual look. Even in the dimness, she could see how he examined her in turn, searching for something.
For several eternal seconds, they stood locked in place, gazing, staring, evaluating each other. Raene made sure to stand tall to show him her height, and when he didn’t move, she swept her braid over her shoulder to give him a better look. But he only continued to stare, gaping. By the narrowing of his eyes, Raene got the distinct feeling she didn’t measure up to his expectations in some way. It was a stab through the heart.
A moment later, three others pushed in behind him, though it was too dark to see much other than their silhouettes against the sunlight outside. One was massively huge with a full beard, one was smaller and clean-shaven, and one was much older than the other two, his thick beard streaked with grey. Beyond that, she couldn’t tell.
Then, finding her unsuitable in some way, the first peeled his green eyes away, pushed his way out of the tent, and disappeared.
Somehow, Raene had managed to disappoint him in a matter of seconds without saying a word. She steeled herself against whatever else the others might find wrong with her.
In all the ways she’d considered this moment might go, never had she thought the family of her future husband would be disappointed in her. In Pyrona, she was wealthy and elite. But here in the Alderwood, she was no one.
Raene stood tall on display for the three Terra men still crowded at the tent’s entrance. She wouldn’t let them make her feel inadequate. Ignoring the ache in her chest, she held her head high, waiting for their assessment, determined they should find her suitable.
“My sons,” began the one to the right, the oldest one with dark brown hair turning grey above his ears. “May I present Raene Randal of the Tiger Clan of Mount Huntari?” He stepped forward and clutched her hands between both of his, which were so full of rings she could hardly see his skin. In a warm voice dripping in paternal love, he said, “Welcome to the Frane Clan, the Bear Clan of the Alderwood, my dear. We are so very pleased to have you with us.”
For a moment, Raene was calmed. Then, her eyes darted back to the two young men on the far side of the tent. They stood frozen, eyes wide in shock.
They hadn’t known she was coming.
It seemed Kaide had left everyone ignorant of his plan.
Forcing back her tiger’s instinct to fight, she grasped the edge of her loose black pants and bowed her head low, as she’d been taught. “Thank you, Master Frane,” she said with all the elegance she could muster.
When her braid fell in front of her shoulder, the clan leader pushed it back and eyed the fresh tattoo on her neck, still scaly as it healed. Satisfied, he added, “And happy birthday, as well.”
“Thank you, Master Frane,” she repeated. Raene was determined to put on her best airs—to show them she had all the class and decorum expected from her family.
But he only replied, “Please, call me Da. Everyone does. And these are my sons, Lathan,” he said as he pointed to the first, the one with the full beard, a huge specimen of a man even by Pyro standards. “And my youngest son, Hale.” The smaller man nodded at the mention of his name. Like the first, and Blossom herself, the Frane sons shared the same stunning green eyes—each of slightly different shades—and chestnut hair with a bit of wave. In the dimness of the tent and silhouetted by sunlight streaming through the flap, the sons were impossible to see clearly, but Raene’s heart raced at their presence.
“I’m sorry you missed Parson. He hasn’t been himself lately. I’m sure he’ll be back shortly.” Da’s weak smile suggested he had no confidence in such an assertion.
Apparently, Kaide had traded her to an Alderwood clan of heathens, living in dirt-floor tents and running about disrespecting their clan leader. What was he thinking?
What little excitement Raene had held for the day quickly dissolved. It was as bad as she feared. Kaide had either intentionally sabotaged her future, or been too negligent to notice. Either way, Raene’s hopes unraveled into confusion and anger.
It only heightened her urge to transition.
“Did you say Huntari?” Raene’s eyes darted up toward the youngest one—the one named Hale. He had the same chestnut-brown hair the Franes all shared, but unlike Lathan’s considerable beard or Parson’s short-cut stubble, Hale was clean-shaven, revealing the square line of his jaw.
Raene admired the bright green color of his eyes as she answered. “Yes, sir. My family has lived there for generations.”
“You’re with the Vice Syndicate, aren’t you? That was the deal you made,” he asked of the man called Da. “You traded Blossom for this girl, didn’t you?”
Da puffed his chest proudly. “That’s why they call it a trade, son. Clans trade for things, in this case, daughters.”
“I’m his niece,” Raene said, though she wasn’t even sure why.
The three stared up at her confused, but it was Raene who felt lost. Where was Blossom?
Da motioned his sons closer, and when they were near enough he said, “We agreed to a trade, a tiger for a bear. Since none of my sons had ever met Raene, we determined that it should be her choice as to who she will marry.” Then, with eyes on Raene, he added, “Unfortunately, I didn’t think to tell the Vice Syndicate that Lathan has already taken a wife. Nonetheless, you’ll have your choice, as agreed. Hale,” he said, his hand pointed toward his youngest son. “Or Parson.” Da thrust a double-ringed thumb toward the tent flap.
Toward the one who’d run at the sight of her.
On the surfa
ce, Raene maintained her calm expression, but inside, she felt close to bursting. It didn’t make any sense. Marriage agreements were designed to prohibit such a thing. Raene was never meant to choose her husband. That was Kaide’s role, not hers. How could he burden her with this?
Raene looked back and forth between the three men, completely at a loss. Her chest felt like it might cave in at any second. Surely he didn’t mean for her to choose now…
“She’s only just arrived. Let her get settled. I’m sure she’s tired after so much traveling.” It was Hale who spoke up for her. Perhaps he too felt pressured into something none of them wanted.
They’d only met two minutes ago, after all.
“Yes, I’m quite tired,” Raene admitted. It wasn’t a lie. She was exhausted from the ride, and anticipation kept her from sleep at the inn, but really, fatigue was just an excuse. She simply didn’t want to face the horrible decision—not now or ever.
An excuse would have to work for the time being.
Da frowned through his thick beard. “I’m afraid our arrangement is quite clear. She is to stay with the son of her choosing, for her safety and protection, as Blossom is with the Vice Syndicate for hers.” In the low candlelight, it was hard to tell if Da was really as concerned as he let on, but Raene knew it didn’t matter.
She was going to have to choose now. A man who’d spoken only a few sentences to her or another who’d run at the mere sight of her.
Neither seemed a good option.
Never mind the fact Da had just admitted he thought Blossom was still in Pyrona with Kaide.
She wasn’t in the Bear Clan.
The reality of it shocked Raene further into silence. She could only stare and gape in abject horror.
“She can stay with me.” Raene’s looked to the largest son, the one who hadn’t yet said a word. Lathan, she remembered. “You’ll be honoring the agreement, and Tasia will watch her as she settles in. When she’s ready, she can make her choice. Can we agree to allow her one month?”
Raene didn’t know who Tasia was, but as she wasn’t a son Raene might someday have to marry, she seemed the obvious choice. Raene nodded eagerly, but it wasn’t up to her.