by RS McCoy
For a brief moment, Blossom was thankful to have his guidance, though that didn’t quiet her distrust toward her advisor. During her transformation, Eton altered her totem, the most grievous of crimes. Not only had he robbed Blossom of her life with Kaide in Pyrona, he’d eliminated her only chance of finding out her real totem.
So no matter what Eton did to help her now, it couldn’t wash away her hatred of what he’d already done. Someday, there would come a time Blossom no longer needed Eton, when their futures were no longer entwined. Then, Blossom would cut him from her life.
Until then, she was stuck at his side, following his lead through Aerona’s frozen tunnels.
As always, birds sailed overhead, but now there were less. It must be close to nightfall, she decided, though without view of the sun, she’d never really know.
Blossom despised watching them fly when she was confined to her human form. Out of reflex, her hand fell to the metal cuff. How long would she have to pretend before she could be free again?
Thoughts ricocheted through her mind like echoes in the cavern. She hated that she was still so far from Kaide, that she couldn’t tell him where she was. She hated that he’d been right, that her totem had been altered, and she never should have gone to transformation that day.
And she hated that he would hate her for this. Blossom had no doubt her new status within the Aero branch was all it would take to earn the full extent of his fury.
Blossom had nowhere else to go. She had no one left. As much as she hated this new life in Aero, it was the only one she had.
So she’d have to pretend to be Aero until she meant it, or until she saw Kaide again. She knew she’d see him eventually, that much was sure. They were both Vice Syndicates. At the very least, he’d be at the Summer Ceremony in a few months. In the meantime, she could only bide her time and wait.
Blossom filed into the elevator with Eton and relished the idea of being done for the day. Already, she felt like a boat adrift on a wide sea, spinning with no hope of finding land again.
Only a few more minutes.
Except they were intercepted.
“Is this her?” squealed a small voice as soon as the elevator doors opened. Blossom was rushed by a tiny girl in a snowy cloak. Her hair and skin were perfectly white, and her eyes were the lightest blue Blossom had ever seen. And despite how she stood a half-head shorter than Blossom, there was no doubt she was a stunning beauty.
“You’re the Vice Syndicate Frane, aren’t you?” the girl fussed. A moment later, her hands were on the ends of Blossom’s newly straightened hair. “Such gorgeous color. I’m insanely envious.”
“Thank you—” Blossom started, until she remembered she had no idea who this girl was.
“My apologies. I’m Yveline Dodd,” she replied with a low bow.
Blossom wondered if she was supposed to know the name and looked to Eton for help.
“Vice Syndicate Frane, this is the Vice Syndicate Apprentice Yveline Dodd.” Eton, too, bowed low in respect.
“Oh! You’re the third Vice Syndicate.” Blossom had met the first, Crin Peppers, at the Spring Ceremony, though she’d done little more than shake the woman’s hand before Kaide whisked her off to mingle with the next person.
But this Yveline Dodd was new to her.
“I’m an Apprentice,” Yveline corrected. “I’ll earn my full Vice Syndicate title upon transformation. Only two more years,” she said, an annoyed smile playing at her lips as if it were a question she was asked too often. “I was just headed down to my sitting room for some tea. I’d be very grateful if you’d join me.” The sprightly young girl smiled up at Blossom.
Blossom smiled back. “Thank you, Vice Syndicate Apprentice Dodd,” she replied, careful to annunciate the mouthful of a title. “But I’m afraid I won’t be much company today. Let’s plan another time in the future. I’m sure there’s a lot you can teach me about life in Aerona.” Blossom bowed her head in respect.
“That would be lovely. I’ll have Adviser Herson make the arrangements.” She motioned to the Aero man behind her.
After the usual parting pleasantries, Blossom and Eton were free to continue on to her chambers. It was still a boring white cavern with too-shiny furnishings, but at least she didn’t have to pretend anymore. No sooner were the doors shut than Blossom collapsed on the nearest rug and threw her arms out wide.
With her eyes closed, Blossom listened to Eton’s footsteps move toward his room and the door shut behind him. At last, she was alone. In the quiet of her Aero apartment, surrounded by Aero furniture and dressed in Aero finery, Blossom lay on the plush rug and remembered the Pyro girl she used to be.
Punishment
DEEP IN THE POCKET of his honey-brown pants, Hale fingered his alder wood coin. Over and over again he’d asked the Sacred Mother for her wisdom and guidance, and she’d never led him astray.
But as he watched the Pyro girl sit at the central fire pit, Hale couldn’t help but wonder if the Mother wasn’t playing some kind of trick on him.
A beautiful girl with a strong totem had arrived in the Bear Clan. His first question to the Mother had been, of course, who she would marry. When he flipped his coin to learn her answer, it had shown his bear.
Raene would be his wife, by the will of the Mother.
The other pieces fell into place easily enough. Da had always reserved Hale for a leadership role while he sent Lathan and Parson to the cut for physical work. They all knew Hale would be clan leader one day, and with a tiger for a bride, there would be no doubt.
The Bear Clan would become the Tiger Clan as their children grew. They’d be the strongest Terra clan in the Alderwood.
Hale would have fortune and family and purpose. Surely, the Mother didn’t mean to give him all her gifts.
Then again, only Hale offered his full devotion to the sacred tree. Lathan worshiped silently and Parson not at all. Who should receive the Mother’s bounty if not Hale?
So even though the idea of talking to—much less marrying—such a beautiful young woman filled him with utter panic, his confidence in the Mother’s course allowed him to push it aside.
Hale squeezed the coin tight in his palm for one last moment before he summoned up the courage to leave the shadows and claim the seat beside her.
Raene’s stunning sapphire eyes acknowledged him for only a moment before she returned to watching the flames eagerly lapping at the sky. If it hadn’t been for that brief moment, he might have thought she hadn’t noticed his arrival.
Hale allowed himself only a handful of seconds to admire her handsome features—the lovely light yellow of her hair, the way the amber glow danced across her exotic brown skin. “I hope you know we’re all very glad to have you here,” he began, not sure what he would say next but elated he’d managed to get the words out in the first place.
“Thank you,” she replied with a wan smile. An automatic response, he suspected.
“Have you had anything to eat?” When she shook her head, Hale offered, “There’s some bread from Hydra, corn-based and sweetened with honey. Would you like to try it?”
Again, that smile. “Yes, thank you.”
Hale pushed up and breathed easier as he put distance between them. Damn, she made him nervous. From the baskets of food, Hale made her a plate—two bits of bread and a handful of summer berries—all the while wondering what to say to her.
Then, he remembered he didn’t need to be nervous. The Alder Mother intended for them to be together, and there was nothing Hale could do to thwart her plan.
When Hale returned to Raene’s side, he felt the rightness of it. He handed her the plate and smiled to show her he wasn’t afraid.
“I’m sure it’s nothing compared to the finery you’re used to. In a few minutes, we’ll have music, once Thersa and Fornen have eaten. And Cresta will bring us some amberwine. The Mother knows Da likes to throw a party.” He didn’t mention Da would celebrate a cloud in the sky if they’d let him get away with it. But this celebration w
as for Raene, his future wife, and he wouldn’t spoil it for her. “And happy birthday,” Hale added.
But she didn’t say anything in reply. Instead, she stared at the fire with glassy eyes, mindlessly munching a bite of bread.
“We have a convoy headed to trade with Hydra this week. We’ll get a fresh supply of grains and spices.” Again, she only stared ahead, like she hadn’t heard him.
Hale understood the Mother’s intention well enough.
Raene would need time. She’d only been in camp for a few hours, and she thought she had a choice to make. Hale would have to wait until Parson and Raene were no longer an option.
Hale offered her a quiet ‘goodnight’ before slipping back to his tent.
He was just going to have to bide his time.
Parson leaned against an alder tree and watched the clan celebrate the arrival of their new daughter. From such a distance, he couldn’t make out individual faces, but their general excitement was clear.
The large fire of the central pit illuminated the entire area against the dark, early evening sky. Parson had run to his heart’s content, and when he thought he was in better control of himself, he’d come back. He hadn’t expected Tasia to bring her to his tent only minutes after returning.
He hadn’t expected a celebration.
The wine flowed. The music played. And no one remembered Blossom was gone.
Their apathy disgusted him.
They celebrated the arrival of this Pyro girl like she could replace his sister.
Parson thrust his hands into his pant pockets and sulked. The merriment of his clan only furthered his resentment. He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t still angry. He wouldn’t pretend.
“Are you going to hide out here and pout all night?”
Parson looked over to discover his oldest brother hiding in the shadows. “How’d you know I was here?”
“There’s music playing. I thought you’d be back hours ago. Never known you to miss a chance to show off.” Lathan stepped beside Parson and put his hands in his pockets. For a while, the two brothers stood watching their clan silhouetted against the flames.
Couples danced, and others chatted while some ate. Somewhere in the crowd was the Pyro girl, but it was impossible to see her from so far away. Parson was glad he couldn’t make her out in the group.
“You know Da set this up for you.”
Parson rolled his eyes and allowed himself to chuckle at such nonsense. The last thing he needed from Da was a pretty, pampered princess from a rival branch. He wanted nothing to do with such a dainty girl.
“You’re the oldest unmarried son. You’re twenty-five. Twenty-six in a few months. The contract gives her the choice, but Da arranged this for you,” Lathan continued, though he must have known Parson wanted to hear none of it.
Parson spun the pair of rings on his index finger. It had been so long since he’d worn the third, he couldn’t even remember the weight of it anymore. Out of all the rings he wore, it was the one he didn’t have that bothered him most.
After Da turned refused to make a reasonable offer for the only girl he’d ever asked for, Parson lost interest in the prospect of marriage in general. He’d received offers from nearly every Terra clan over the last seven years, but after he was denied Darsa’s hand, Parson flatly rejected each and every one.
If Da meant to rectify his mistakes, the Pyro girl was the worst possible attempt. Every sight of her was a reminder Blossom was gone.
“You can go back.” Parson tilted his head toward Lathan’s tent. “I’m sure Tasia wants you home by now.”
“I’m sure she does, but I’d feel better if I saw you home first.”
“What?” Parson shot him a horrified glare but was sure it was lost in the dark. “Go mind your new pet. I don’t need you to watch me.” Disgusted he had to say such words, he spat on the ground in front of him.
Lathan shook his head like he’d received bad news. “You’ve been reckless. You’re not focused. I know—”
“You don’t know anything!” Parson screamed.
With that, he marched away, distancing himself from the happy clan and the brother who thought he needed supervision. It wasn’t his fault this trade had been made. If left up to him, he would have killed the Pyro politician and removed the problem entirely.
Instead, he had to watch his clan dance and drink to welcome a new daughter to replace the one that was gone.
Parson was the only sane person in camp. The rest of them had lost it.
Refusing to return so soon, Parson took the long way home. He let the night winds quiet his anger, if only a little, before he made his way back to his tent.
With the flap closed, it was perfectly dark, just as he liked. Parson collapsed onto the pile of sheets with a heavy flop, but no sooner was he spread across the tent floor than Fig appeared. His ferret feet climbed up Parson’s side, tickling his ribs, before the fidgety pet settled down along the midline of his chest.
Parson stroked Fig’s soft fur carefully, always weary of hurting such a small creature. Fig had been Blossom’s, raised since he was a little hairless thing she found in the woods. One of the dozens she’d collected over the years.
She got that from their mother.
Parson had been only eight years old when he pushed his ear to his mother’s swollen belly and felt the kicks of the baby inside. He’d marveled at the whole affair—that his mother could get so big, that a real baby could be in there, that he would have a new sister. Ma had always known Blossom was different.
“You’ll love her more than anyone,” she’d said.
“Not more than you.” Parson beamed, his beautiful mother glowing as she sat in the candlelight in their family tent.
But Ma had only laughed, running her hands through his hair. “Love always grows—like the sacred alders always growing larger. When one dies, a bigger one takes its place.”
She’d always been in love with the trees, always honoring the sacred alders. She was a true believer if he ever saw one. And when she’d told him love was like an alder, Parson didn’t believe her. Even as a boy, he dismissed it as romantic nonsense.
But then she died. In the span of a week, Parson lost his mother and gained a sister. They named her after the most beautiful part of the trees their mother so loved.
Parson was angry then. For a long time, he couldn’t understand it. Lathan was old enough to cope, and Hale was too young to fully grasp it, but Parson was lost. He knew his mother was gone, but he couldn’t figure out why.
The obvious answer was Blossom. He tried his best to hate her, but it was impossible. The little girl who looked so much like their mother, with her chestnut curls and freckled cheeks. She had that fire and passion and energy. Of all the Franes, Blossom never fussed at him to relax or quiet his totem. Only once had she intervened when he and Lathan fought, but even then, she’d only stood between them. She’d always been brave that way.
Parson loved her more than anyone, as his mother had said he would.
But now she was gone, and some Pyro girl had come to take her place.
With celebratory music filling his tent, Parson continued stroking the soft fur of the ferret on his chest, but he couldn’t get his pulse to quiet.
Something inside him was broken.
Raene couldn’t sleep that first night, or the next, or any night that first week.
Curled into a tiny ball in Lathan’s tent, Raene knew for certain she was being punished. Nights in the Alderwood were miserably cold. Raene refused to give up the comforting familiarity of her Pyro clothes—her right as a Pyro—but she was left shivering on a thin pallet.
When Raene asked Tasia for an extra blanket, she was rewarded with yet another disapproving speech about the length of her sleep clothes. Apparently, black shorts and a slender top didn’t qualify as appropriate sleep wear for the future wife of a Frane son.
On the second night, Tasia set up a cotton partition. It separated the tent into two sides so Raene co
uld keep her immodest self on one side while the more conservative Tasia and Lathan shared the other. Raene tried not to let it get to her. She tried to think of it as an amenity, an unexpected privilege of privacy, but it burned her up inside.
And the Alderwood was surprisingly loud at night. Or maybe it was her newly sensitive tiger ears. Either way, Raene was kept awake by the sounds of alder branches swaying in the breeze, the animals scurrying in the greenery, and the sweet whispers between Tasia and Lathan even after they finished their infuriating prayers. It was enough to make her go mad. Trapped in a tent with a couple so obviously in love—that was her real punishment. She’d taken Kaide’s chance at happiness with Blossom, and now she was subjected to Lathan’s quiet laugh, Tasia’s hands roaming through his thick beard, and the two sleeping curled together night after night.
What Raene wouldn’t give for a night back in the manor. She would even settle for the wine-filled stink of her father’s home.
Maybe there she’d be able to sleep.
Or maybe her totem was enough to keep her awake all on its own. With each passing day and each sleepless night, anxiety filled her like a flagon. Her hands shook from more than the cold. Her legs were restless to run. Her mouth watered for more blood.
Except for the brief outings to answer nature’s call—holding the small, humiliating shovel—Raene declined to leave the tent. She refused to be the cause of bloodshed. She couldn’t risk losing control and harming someone again.
So Raene remained in hiding, both from the clan and her totem, and that was fine with her.
Others didn’t seem to agree.
After Lathan and Tasia said their morning prayers, Lathan left for the work day. Tasia and Raene remained inside alone until someone joined them.
“Ms. Randal?” a voice called from outside the tent.
Raene nearly choked on the fruit in her mouth as Tasia answered, “Come in, Hale.”
Before Raene had fully swallowed, Hale pushed in and stood just inside the flap. Beams of morning light illuminated the tent. Raene and her host each sat on a moss-green pillow, munching on bits of fruit—their usual morning fare—and staring up at their unexpected guest.