Dirt (The Dirt Trilogy)

by K. F. Ridley

  He lowers his voice and peers in my face about an inch away from the tip of my nose.“Yes, but you can so easily be destroyed.” He walks away, fair complexion beaming red with irritation.

  I watch the fanfare going on around me. Leprechauns scurry about preparing for our flight. All of this is because of me. How I wish to be human again. But I was never really human in the first place. I never belonged. And I still don’t.

  The ground rumbles as Ruamna pounds the ground in her stall. She’s not going anywhere. She’s being punished too and for no reason. The other horses are groomed, prepared to leave. The massive sorrel is frustrated, wanting her master. She knows something is up.

  A huge white winged horse, larger than any of the others, is lead from his stall by several leprechauns. Iridescent scales covering his flank look like mother of pearl. He’s regal standing with his head held high, proud.

  Arcos, glides toward the stable in a long, flowing white linen robe, his long, white hair flowing behind him as it’s carried by the breeze. A stable hand snaps his fingers toward the ground and Arcos walks up what seems to be invisible stairs to straddle his horse.

  Everyone has mounted; Coll rides up and reaches down to pull me aboard. “Let’s go.” I hesitate to follow his direction.

  “Let’s GO,” he says this time with more demand. I concede and without effort he lifts me onto the black stallion. Coll is as beautiful as Rowen. In fact, they have many of the same features, but Coll’s beauty is buried by his personality. He’s obsessed with becoming the one who’ll save the world. I’m nothing, but a trip down his road to heroism. I hold on to his waist to keep from falling. His body is firm and masculine. I sense the definition of every muscle under his black t-shirt, but touching him makes me uncomfortable.

  Arcos is behind the crew on his magnificent stallion, whose mane is so long rider and horse appear as one as they fly. He’s nothing like a grandfather, at least not how I think one should be. A cold sense of disconnection and vapidity shroud him. When I found out I was to meet him, I wanted his love and acceptance. I wanted to be a part of someone who was a part of my mother, but after our meeting, I realized he doesn’t care about me. Protecting his world from my existence is his only concern. He seems lonely, but comfortable that way.

  The sky is our highway for a good part of the day. The air is cool. Coll’s horse follows behind Alder and Ruis. Coll and I don’t speak. I only hold on to his narrow waist out of pure necessity. In the distance, I see a crimson flag perched on the top of a castle’s pinnacle. Congramaid. As we get closer, I see thousands of people on the ground. Either the Congramaid celebration is huge or they are preparing for a huge battle. We land behind a colossal white castle, away from the crowd.

  Coll’s feet hit the ground hard. He holds his hand out to me and I refuse it. I attempt to dismount on my own, but as I come off the back of his black stallion, Coll grabs me around my waist on my way down; our faces catch a glimpse of one another. He pauses and stares at me, his hands still around my waist. Coll’s arrogant demeanor softens for a brief moment. His glance waivers as gentleness seeps beyond his eyes into mine.

  I’m uncomfortable. I push his hands away, ridding myself of the awkwardness. Coll then quickly realizes the discomfort of human feelings and his foul manner returns.

  He reaches into the bag that’s draped across the horse’s back and pulls out a brown cloak, complete with a burly hood. It looks like something a monk would wear-a monk with bad taste.

  “Put this on,” he says as he throws the robe at me.

  I do as he says and he grabs my upper arm and pulls me up against his side. “Stay close,” he orders. Staying close to him is the last thing I want to do. In a reflex movement, I try to jerk my arm out of his hand, but his hold is to strong.

  “What’s your problem, Ashe? You aren’t going anywhere. What are you trying to do, get us all killed?”

  “No, I’m trying to get away from you, but I feel more like a prisoner than a secret.” I mumble as we continue to walk toward the Congramaid Castle. His fingers press into my arm as we follow the others. We forge on toward the castle’s arched entrance. Sentries surround Arcos shielding him from the masses who want to get a glimpse of the king.

  A young man, dressed in an emerald green satin robe meets us at the door, acknowledging my grandfather’s presence with a subtle nod. “My lord, we’ve been waiting for you. This way,” he says as he leads us down a long corridor.

  We walk on pristine white marble passing palatial columns perching the ceiling thirty or forty feet above us. The sound of our footsteps resonates against the walls. We weave down several other hallways each one narrower than the last.

  “In here,” he urges.

  We enter a quaint room full of people. Green and gold fabrics drape the walls. As we enter, all eyes are on us. Arcos is escorted to a huge throne at the front of the room. Ruis and Alder shake arms, with others about the room. Ivy follows Coll as he herds me to the back of the room his hand still latched to my arm. I am covered in brown burlap, otherwise, I would stand out amongst the blond hair and fair skin like a lit up billboard. If anyone sees me then the secret will be out.

  Alder stands at the front of the room and calls attention to the crowd. “I’m sure all of you have heard rumors of the bithling that has come of age. I’m here to tell you the rumors are true.” Rumbling emerges from the crowd.

  “Quiet everyone,” Alder yells.

  I scoot inches behind me until my back hits the wall, pulling the hood of the cloak toward my face to further protect my anonymity.

  Alder continues, “The bithling is here in Durt.”

  “What?” several in the group shout.

  “How could this danger have been brought upon us, Alder?” another sentry exclaims.

  “Calm down.” Alder tries to gain control of the room.

  “This bithling must be put to death!” a voice in the crowd shouts.

  “Death to the bithling! Death to the bithling!”

  I want to hide even more, but there’s no place to go.

  Alder fails to contain them, as the chanting continues, until a very small sentry dressed in a purple cloak steps on to the platform. He stands beside Alder.

  “Cy,” Coll whispers with a tone of regret.

  “Who is he?” I whisper back.

  “He knows you’re here. He can feel your presence. It’s his gift. We didn’t think Cy would be here,” Coll informs.

  “The bithling… is here! It is here in this room!” he announces. The room grows silent and everyone looks around not knowing what they might see in the ocean of people.

  “Alder, where is this bithling? It should be destroyed,” the little man speaks as if I’m vermin.

  Arcos rises from his chair, moves toward the front of the podium, approaching the crowd of men. The silence in the room is deafening.

  “No harm is to come to her. She is to be protected to the fullest,” Arcos continues. Mumbling around the room stirs once again. “Silence!” The walls shake with Arco’s resounding demand. “If anyone harms…” his eyes wander toward me as he pauses. “If anyone harms my granddaughter they will suffer death.” The room roars. What my grandfather has done took everything he had. To be able to admit I am his flesh and blood, he had to swallow his pride, his title, and most of all his fear. Does he truly care for me? Was I wrong about him?

  “Everyone quiet down!” Alder attempts once again to contain the room.

  Arcos returns to his chair. The room contains itself.

  “Straif is after the bithling. My brethren have been to the Caverns and rescued her once. He won’t stop there. She has had her eighteenth birthday, so he wants her now more than ever. It is a time of great celebration here at Congramaid, but this is also a time of planning. We must make preparations to go against The Dark Thorn. We’ll meet again tomorrow before the celebration.”

  The sentries mumble amongst themselves. Alder pulls Cy aside. The room clears and Arcos is escorted out.
Alder and Cy approach me.

  I remain covered under itching burlap, my face hidden by the oversized hood. I want to be kept a secret for as long as possible. As Alder and Cy move closer, my muscles tighten as anxiety becomes my second covering.

  Cy is about a foot shorter than me, but intimidating. He peers up at me. “So, you have finally arrived… Oh, dear…what will become of our world?” His mousy, feminine voice is sullen.

  I pull back the brown hood. “I didn’t ask to be here. I didn’t ask to be born,” I respond in defense.

  “Nor did we invite you.” His words are laced with acid.

  Alder intercedes,“She was brought here for her protection as well as our own.”

  “The only way we can be protected is if she is dead,” Cy responds.

  “This was Rowen’s project.” Coll couldn’t wait to put his two cents in.

  Alder sneers, “Rowen was commissioned for this at five-yearsold. Her protection was determined eighteen years ago.”

  “He put us all in danger by bringing her here.”

  “Enough, Coll. He did what he had to do. There will be no judging here. She is to be protected and so shall we protect.”

  “Your mother has no idea what she has done to Durt,” Cy adds.

  “Leave my mother out of this!” It’s bad enough that he’s bashing me, but my mother is off limits. I have my hand on the chair behind me, and it begins to vibrate for no apparent reason.

  Alder senses the tension building between me and the little man. “What do you foresee?” Alder intercedes.

  While Cy stands there with his eyes closed in a trance, I whisper to Ivy, “What’s he doing?”

  “He has a gift. A magnificent gift. He sees the future, not everything, just some things.”

  “He’s coming here,” Cy says after a few minutes of deep thought.

  “Who?” Coll asks.

  “Straif.”

  “When?”

  “I cannot be certain, but he will be here. I must go to my chambers and stay focused. No interruptions. I will report to you what appears to me.” His eyebrows twist in contempt as he turns away.

  “Go, Cy. I will stand a guard at your door to keep you in seclusion,” Alder adds. “Coll, you will remain with Ashe.”

  Ivy pulls the oversized hood back over my head and we proceed down a small corridor. Ivy’s quarters are across the hall from mine. Coll places his hand into my back, urging me into a small room that looks more like a dormitory. There are set of twinbeds and two old wooden desks in the corners of the lifeless room.

  Coll follows in behind me. “What are you doing?” I ask, annoyed by his presence.

  “I’m staying with you.”

  “I don’t think so,” I insist.

  “You really don’t have a choice in the matter.”

  “It seems I don’t have a choice about anything,”

  “Remember what happened last time,” Coll boasts, holding his chest up in the air like some kind of body builder.

  I sit on the bed and look at him from across the room. “Well, I do have a choice in the topic of conversation and Rowen will not be one of them. In fact, there won’t be any conversation.”

  “Oh, are you going to act like you are five and give me the silent treatment?” Coll says amused. I don’t respond. “Fine, then keep silent. Suits me fine.” I don’t care if he thinks I’m being childish. This will give me a break from having to deal with his venomous attitude.

  After a couple of hours of sitting in total silence and with nothing else to do in this empty space, Coll attempts to stir up a chat. I sense a slight flicker of compassion in his words. “Look, I know this has to be hard for you.” He’s waving a white flag; however, it seems to be a small one.

  I’m cautious. I know what he’s like. I look over at him, as I lay on one bed and he on the other. Then I turn my eyes back to the ceiling with nothing to say, my expression flat and empty.

  “You’ve got to understand the reasons for our actions.” He sits up, frustrated he’s not able to convince me.

  “Everyone here wants to kill me. Everyone except…” and I stopped myself. I remember my rule and I wasn’t bringing him up, not with Coll. I don’t want him bashing Rowen anymore.

  “We have reasons.”

  “To kill me? Really, Coll. I’m supposed to be okay with that?”

  “I don’t mean that.”

  “Then what do you mean?”

  “You threaten our very existence. If Straif gets a hold of you…If everyone decided to be like your mother and break the law, there would be bithlings running around like mice. How would we be able to protect them all? Straif would surely succeed.”

  “So, now I’m a rodent. Why don’t you focus on destroying Straif instead of me? He’s the real threat. Get rid of Straif and your people will be free.”

  “It’s not easy, Ashe.” This is the first time he’s ever called me by name.

  He is morose as he lies back on the bed staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t know what else to say. That’s a change. He seems to always have something to spout back with.

  After a few moments he takes a different tone.“Females… You’re all such a mystery.”

  “That’s an improvement,” I say with a reel of sarcasm. “I’ve gone from mere bithling to female. That’s the real mystery.”

  “I’ve never been alone with a girl before.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve always avoided females, to avoid temptation. I didn’t want anything to get in the way of my position. Falling in love is forbidden and I intend to keep it that way.”

  I don’t respond. Surprisingly, I empathize with him. In the human world, I always avoided boys, not because I had to, but because it was comfortable. I didn’t want to have to confront my father with that issue.

  I wake the next morning. Coll sits by the window gazing out. “What time is it?” I ask.

  “Late. Almost noon. “

  “Did you get any sleep?”

  “Sleep? Are you kidding?” He stops himself. “Sorry. I promised myself I would lose the attitude.”

  “Thanks, I think.”

  “No. I didn’t sleep. I watched over you last night. I can’t do that with my eyes closed you know.” Coll is so different from Rowen. My blood flows warmer as I think of him. Deep in the core of my heart, I know he’d be here if he could, and that fact begins to stir worry. Has something happened to him? Where is he? “Get cleaned up. We are meeting with the other brethren in a few minutes.”

  I raise my hands in the air, shrugging my shoulders.

  “Oh, the bathroom is right here,” he says pointing to the next room that has no door.

  “I’m very aware of where the bathroom is. Do you mind?” He turns his to face the opposite wall. “I mean you’d better not look.”

  He smirks, making me doubt him. “I promise,” he says.

  16

  Tensions build with the intense chatter. There are sentries from wall to wall. Alder stands on the platform in front of the frazzled audience, Arcos sits behind him, and little Cy stands at his side. Ruis remains as invisible as always, in the back of the room.

  “ There have been developments,” Alder says, looking over the crowd. “Straif is coming here.” A gasp vacuums air from the room. “We must prepare. We must include everyone in the fight.” He resists his next statement. “Even our students.”

  A tall, slender man in a red robe speaks out, “We cannot risk the lives of our young. They are the future of the brethrens.”

  “There will be no future if the bithling is captured, if Straif is not stopped,” Alder says.

  Another tall man wearing the same crimson robe shouts from the crowd. “When will he arrive?”

  “He’s on his way. The celebration is tomorrow. We’ll make preparations today.”

  “May we see the bithling? If we know what it looks like, we’ll be better able to protect it,” someone in an emerald robe exclaims.

  I hold my breath as Al
der peers over his men.“There is no need for that. Your only job is to destroy Straif and retrieve the sister key to the Doorway of Feda. My brethren have her in safe keeping.”

  I’m thankful he does not sell me out. Alder gives instructions, “We will continue with the celebration as planned, however, each of you will need to prepare your brethren. We will assign each group a place to stand guard at all times and the alarm will sound with the first sight of The Thorn. Be armed and have every horse ready for flight. I don’t know how or when he will attack, but my suspicions make me believe it will be when the twin moons are at their brightest. That will occur in two nights. We have many civilians here making our task even more complicated. Be prepared my brothers and remember what is at stake.”

  As the men exit, we head back to our small secluded room. I can’t help but think of him. He should be here instead of this “Rowen wanna-a-be.” Coll is protecting me for glory, not Rowen. It isn’t about him. It’s about us. Where is he? Something is wrong. Something is terribly wrong.

  The crisp morning light peers in through the window, creeping past my eyelids. The room is hazy and I’m still dazed in a partial state of sleep. Across the room I see him. He’s here. His chiseled back moves in perfect motion as I watch him getting dressed. He makes chills move through me like wind over ocean waves. I creep out of my covers and crawl over to the other bed; I slide my hands across his smooth shoulders and press my cheek to his warm skin. “You came back for me.” I stay there for a moment his perfection on my cheek.

  He turns around. “I never left you.”

  I jump back in shock. The sun illuminates the miasma of dusty air clouding the room. “It’s you! You jerk! You let me…Why didn’t you say something? I thought you were…”

  “Rowen?” Coll smirks. “I did say something.”

  “Yeah, but … you should have said something sooner.” My face glows cardinal as I slide back to my side of the room.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Tell anyone what? Nothing happened. I thought you were Rowen, that’s all.” I stare at his face and see something I have never noticed before. “You know you two look a lot alike.”