Perhaps Asphodel knows more about happiness than Stian wants to admit.
“So, I was just going to tell Astrea our surprise.” Mother smiles at me again, excitement sparkling in her dark eyes. Father nods and smiles around a huge mouthful of bread.
“We’ve invited Isa and Garna to come here tomorrow. You can have more friends if you want, but I know those girls are your favorites. You three will have a full day of relaxation and pampering, and of course, birthday cake!”
She laughs at my uncertain face. In the mess of things that calls itself my life now, I’ve almost forgotten Sunday is my birthday, too.
“Astrea, let yourself be a teenager again. Forget about all this ‘adult stuff’ and be lazy. Giggle with your friends. Gossip about the boys. You need a break, honey. Believe me, the bad stuff will always be there. Take the good when you can. You don’t get many free days in this city – enjoy them!”
A smile is starting to work its way onto my face. I do miss my friends. The smile is still playing around my mouth when I close the door behind me and run smack into Lexan, who is also on his way to class.
“You’re awfully happy,” he says sourly, adjusting his bag back onto his shoulder.
“Lexan, wait. I’m really sorry—”
“Save it, Astrea. Sorry doesn’t mean anything unless you’re going to do something different. And I don’t see that happening.” He speeds his walking and quickly leaves me behind. I could run after him, but his words have stung my pride.
Classes are thankfully uneventful – Leader Augus lectures forever about the First Leader’s duties during the Choosing Day celebration, and I barely listen. My other teachers have centered their lessons around Sunday’s events as well, and I’m sick of the subject. We’ve had weeks of these lessons, and I know Isa and Garna will talk about it all day Saturday, and then it will be the day itself, looming unavoidably in my future.
I feel the old thoughts of self-pity begin to seep back into my brain as I doodle arrows and knives in my notebook instead of writing what the teacher is saying.
At lunch, Isa and Garna chatter excitedly about what we can do tomorrow, and I try to focus, but my eyes keep sliding over to where Lexan sits. He laughs and jokes with several girls. Back to his old self. I try to tell myself I don’t care. I try to remind myself that I’m being a hypocrite, by wanting Stian and denying Lexan that same thing. But instead I’m just angry.
“Are you and Lexan fighting again?” Garna asks pointedly. I realize they have stopped gossiping and are both eying me.
“Yeah,” I sigh. “Everything I say makes him mad.”
“Well, quit talking then. Kiss him instead! Boys like that better, honey,” Garna laughs. I’m pulled in by her giggles and finally find a smile to offer them, if only because the thought of kissing Lexan now seems so unlikely – he would just laugh in my face.
Pallis walks by our table, pauses. “Hey, Astrea. Are you girls coming to the party tomorrow night? At the hot pool?”
I raise my eyebrows. I haven’t heard about this. And why is Pallis looking at me like that? “Sure, maybe,” I say.
“Great! I’ll talk to you about it later.” He grins and moves on to the next table.
“Uh uh!” Isa points her finger at me. “You are not going down that path again.”
“What?”
“You are not going to make out with Pallis the night before both of you choose other people. It’s not right. You can’t keep avoiding Choosing Day, Trea!”
“She’s right,” Garna says. “You may be fighting with Lexan, but he’s still going to be your partner. You’re just avoiding reality by wanting to be with someone else.”
As we head to training, their words stay in the center of my mind – they were talking about Pallis, but I’m thinking about Stian. Am I just using him as a distraction, so I don’t have to think about what’s happening in two days?
I need to think about this, and maybe talk to Stian about it. I dismiss that idea as quickly as it comes – he’d probably laugh at me too if I try to explain that we should stop something that hasn’t even earned a name.
In Brenn’s class, I hope for a game or competition, but we’re only doing running drills again.
“Trea, nobody wants a black eye for Choosing Day,” Isa says, rolling her eyes.
“One day shouldn’t be this important to everyone!” I sigh and reconcile myself to waiting for my training session with Lexan, thinking about punching him. The last half hour of our private session brings me that chance.
“Why don’t you guys spar a little while I clean up,” Brenn says to us.
Lexan is still very angry, and his fighting is instantly more powerful because of it. His punches connect with more force than ever before, and it surprises me, but at the same time, sparks my temper as well. I dance around him, kicking at his thigh, then clipping his ribs, and he glares at me, cold and brittle. A fist glances off my shoulder, spinning me to the side slightly, but I recover and dart out of reach.
“So have you kissed him yet?” Lexan hisses as I move in for another kick. I’m startled out of my movement and my kick falls short. I shift to the side just in time to miss a swipe at my ribs.
“More than twice,” I say in a low voice, knowing he will catch the comparison to the kisses we’ve shared, hoping he won’t notice the lie. I hit him hard in the stomach, then back away quickly.
“I didn’t have to hypnotize him either,” I laugh shortly, taking things a step too far.
Lexan eyes snap and he lunges, his fist connecting fiercely with my jaw. Finally, he has hit me with his full strength, and the pain explodes across my face as I feel my body falling, knocked too far off balance. As I hit the floor hard, rolling to the side at the last second to save my head, I recognize I deserved this.
Lexan drops to his knees, frantic, and Brenn rushes over to see if I’m okay.
“What in Hades, Lex?” He pushes Lexan away, checking my eyes to see if I’m in danger of passing out. I try to laugh, my voice sounding gravelly in my ears. The vibration of my laughter sends spasms of pain through my head and neck.
“Sss…kay,” I manage to slur, but even these tiny sounds hurt more than I can handle. Through a pain that squeezes my eyes shut against tears, I realize my teeth are not meeting, and my whole face feels strangely off-center.
Brenn’s fingers brush lightly across my face as he tests my injury, then pries my eyes open to check them again, his eyes scanning worriedly.
“This is going to hurt,” he glares at me, forcing his thumbs into my mouth. He presses down and sideways, shoving my jaw back in its place before I can even process what he’s doing.
A brief anguished cry escapes my lips before I bite it back with sheer stubbornness. I don’t care how much it hurts – Lexan is not getting any satisfaction from this. I grab Brenn’s arms and pull myself to a sitting position, one hand holding my chin gingerly. I imagine for a second that if I let it go, it might fall off my face. I glance around the room for Lexan, who is standing several feet away, looking very embarrassed.
“Go get her father,” Brenn tells him shortly. “Have him bring some pain medicine.”
Lexan hurries from the room as Brenn shakes his head.
“I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but you made that boy mad,” he grins, even now unable to resist an opportunity to tease. I start to laugh but it quickly turns into a moan and I close my eyes against the pain that is still pulsing through my face.
By the time Father joins us, I feel a little better, and his medicine soon takes care of any lingering pain. Lexan still won’t meet my eyes, and he leaves as soon as he sees I’m going to be okay. I know he feels bad, but I don’t really care. He brought it on himself, starting that fight within a fight.
I feel a strange satisfaction that I was able to get such a reaction from him.
As Father tucks me into bed, something he hasn’t done in nearly ten years, he pats my arm. “You’re tougher than most boys, Trea. I’
ve seen men cry for an hour about a dislocated jaw. And don’t worry – by Sunday you’ll barely have any bruising.”
I snort to myself. As if I care what I look like for Choosing Day. I wave Father away and quickly fall asleep, my whole face numb from the medicine.
EIGHTEEN
Many families who sought shelter in Asphodel after the Sickness came with nothing. Only a few had enough to share with others, but some were able to salvage small personal possessions. These mementos of a life before tragedy must be treasured within the community. As we move forward, we must also remember the past. It is only by knowing where we have been that we can be sure of where we are going.
From Personal Journal of First Leader Firene
Published after her death, year 2170
Isa and Garna aren’t due at my house until just before lunch, so I sneak out of the house before Mother and Father are awake, leaving a note that I went for a walk. Father might be mad, but Mother will understand, thinking I need time to myself before the ceremony tomorrow.
I do need some time, but not by myself.
As I crawl through the passageway, I think about Garna’s comment from yesterday and feel a little bit guilty about coming to see Stian. Especially since I really, really want him to distract me from reality right now.
Stian is already awake, sharpening his knife on a rock, and he answers my smile as soon as he sees me emerge from the tunnel. But when he gets close enough to see the darkened line of my jaw, his eyes narrow.
“It’s nothing. Just hand combat training.” I make light of the subject, suddenly very sure I don’t want Stian to know who did this.
His eyes stare hard at me for a few seconds. “You’re too tough for your own good,” he says finally. “So, did I pass my test yesterday?”
“Of course. But he could tell…about us,” I’m not sure what to call it, but hopefully Stian will know what I mean.
“Good,” he says. “I want him to know.” He steps toward me and his hands circle my waist, pulling me close to him, starting a tightness that begins in my chest and ends somewhere deep inside. I think about the lies I told Lexan to earn this ache in my jaw, and I think I’m ready to earn them back. Part of me knows that I shouldn’t lead him on, that I should tell Stian this can never work, but with his fingers stretching toward my hips, I lose my words.
He bends down to brush my lips, only to stop as he feels me wince in pain. He pulls back, frowning, then touches my jaw lightly and steps away, releasing his hands.
Frustrated, knowing he won’t hurt me again, I glance around for another distraction. A new pile of finished arrows sits next to the water.
“So why don’t you show me how you shoot those?”
He shrugs, then picks up the arrows and retrieves his bow from the corner. I prop my old pillow against the wall for a target. He flings an arrow easily to the center, burying it deep in the fabric.
Then he steps behind me, placing the bow in my hands, his strong arms covering mine as he explains. I lean back into his broad chest, and our arrow flies wide, bouncing into the pool.
“No, you’re breaking form. Don’t lean into me, or it won’t fly true.”
I smile sweetly and bury a new arrow inches from his.
“Okay, so you’ve done that before. Do you have any other hidden talents?” His eyes skim my body again and I start to flush with heat. Then I grin and pick up his knife. I tap the point to the corner of my eye, telling him to watch, then I hurl the blade at the pillow. It sticks briefly in the end of his arrow, splitting the wood before its weight pulls it to the cave floor.
Stian laughs, shaking his head. “You’re not anything like most of the princesses I’ve heard about,” he says. “You can take care of yourself.”
“I’m not a princess, and I don’t want a knight in armor,” I say, my tone a little fiercer than I intended. “I want someone who will stand by my side, and help me if I ask for it, but trust me to save myself.”
He steps toward me, and I’m startled to see his eyes dilated nearly black. His fingers are rough as they trace the outline of my waist.
“You’re incredible, Tre.”
Suddenly I don’t care about my jaw’s protests – I will have his kiss. I pull his head down and command pleasure to outrank pain.
Yet, I can’t focus on Stian – I keep thinking about the game I’m playing. Garna’s right. Regardless of what I’m doing here now, tomorrow I’ll still be bound to Lexan. And all my games will only have been played out of spite for the reality that is never going away. No matter what Stian thinks he wants from me, that will never be fair. No matter how much I want to be selfish, I can never hurt him like that.
I pull away. “I have to go home for lunch now.”
He sighs. “Well, I guess I’ll go outside and run a few miles then.”
“I’m not sure when I’ll be free to come back…” I don’t want to say it.
“I know. Tomorrow you have to choose. Just remember what I said, Tre. There is always a choice, even if it doesn’t look like it.” He walks me to the tunnel, kisses my forehead lightly, and turns away, his eyes guarded against me.
My heart aches, but I bury it, knowing what I will choose.
I allow Saturday to be everything Mother hopes for. Isa and Garna and I lie around the living room, gossiping shamelessly and dissolving into fits of giggles over nothing in particular. I entertain them with stories of kissing Stian, only I substitute Lexan’s name. They share details about their own choices and we feel very grown up.
We play with each other’s hair, experimenting with it up, down, curly, straight. Isa teaches me how to line my gray eyes with the charcoal pencil she’s brought, and Garna shows me how to cover my bruise, although I try to persuade her it will have faded enough by tomorrow. Together they give me a pin to wear on my tunic: a white asphodel flower, its creamy ceramic petals accented with tiny raindrops of diamond.
After dinner and birthday cake, as the girls are beginning to gather their things, a knock sounds on our door.
“Astrea, Lexan is here to see you,” Mother interrupts us.
I blush immediately, thinking of how I’ve falsely used his name today, and Isa and Garna are helpless with giggles when Lexan steps uncertainly into the living room. He’s holding a flat black box, and he looks quite embarrassed.
“Well, I didn’t know I’d have an audience, but here goes,” he mutters. I glance at Isa and Garna, who aren’t about to leave and miss this show.
“Astrea, I know we’ve been, um, arguing a little bit lately, and I wanted to say I’m sorry.” He flushes a little, looking at the floor, and my eyes narrow.
I understand he’s embarrassed about yesterday, but why is he so awkward? I don’t ever remember him being this awkward before.
“My mother had talked about this before,” he gestures at the box, “but I wasn’t sure she was serious. Then Pasia stopped by this morning and insisted. So it’s not exactly my idea…although…I guess I wish it were.”
I want to help him get over his nervousness somehow, but I have no idea how. So I wait, smiling uncertainly at him.
He takes a deep breath and continues rapidly, sounding like he’s reciting a report. “When my family first moved to Asphodel during the Sickness, they brought this with them. All of the women in my family have worn it for Choosing Day since then, and Mother and Pasia think you should too…” He opens the box and turns it so I can see.
Isa and Garna react first, their gasps and coos of admiration filling the room. I glance shyly at Lexan, overwhelmed by the wealth of beautiful diamonds sparkling at me from the soft black interior of the box.
“It’s a headpiece,” he explains, lifting it from the lining. “It goes in your hair, like this, with this bigger diamond on your forehead.”
I let him place it against my hair, strands encircling my head. His fingers clumsily adjust each string to rest on top of my curls. Mother is watching us from the doorway, and her expression breaks my heart, then steals
a piece.
“It’s beautiful, Lexan,” she says quietly.
“Go look in the mirror!” Isa demands, pushing me toward the bathroom. I gaze at my reflection, the diamonds glinting at me. This headpiece is a symbol of his family, a collection of strong, brave women that I will one day join. Despite my uncertainties concerning her great-grandson, I’m sharply proud to link myself with Firene.
Thinking that truly, this coincidence must be part of a larger destiny, I suddenly feel all my antagonism toward Lexan dissipate like steam clearing from a mirror. I smile at my reflection, and I think that, somehow, things will be okay tomorrow.
“Thank you. It’s amazing,” I say when Isa lets me return to the living room. He still looks uncertain, as if he’s not supposed to be there. I step and grasp his hand, squeezing, then I lean forward and kiss his cheek gently. “Really. Thank you, Lexan.”
Finally he smiles, and a semblance of the charmer I know returns. He grins at Isa and Garna, then turns to thank Mother too. She pulls him into a quick hug, a smile stretching her mouth wide.
He glances shyly back at me. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“I’ll be the one in red,” I say, fighting back nervousness again.
Alone in my room later, I think about sneaking out to see Stian again. But something about that doesn’t seem right: not after what’s happened today, and what will be set in motion by tomorrow’s ceremony.
The growing certainty that I’m truly going to be First Leader of Asphodel one day is shifting me into reality, pushing Stian into the realm of something more like memory. I know I’ll see him again, but I don’t think it will be the same between us anymore.
As I sit on my bed, fingering the strands of the headpiece spread before me on the blanket, Mother enters the room.
“How are you doing?” She sits next to me, her hand covering mine.
I shake my head, needing to be honest with her. “I still don’t know how all of this will work. I don’t know if Lexan and I can figure this out – there’s too much bad between us. Not enough good.”
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