Vivatera (Vivatera Series Book 1)

by Candace J Thomas

  “The girl? The girl with the scar?”

  “This girl has magic. Do you understand magic?”

  Naomi thought about it. She had watched a few of the magicians while with the Travelers as a child. She had watched Malindra make potions, and she’d taught her the cards, but that wasn’t magic at all, just understanding the signs. “No,” she concluded.

  Jeanus’s eyes wandered off to something distant. “Magic is brought forth by the elements of the earth itself. There are very few who clearly understand that.” She smiled as she turned back to Naomi. “Do you believe it exists?”

  Naomi wasn’t sure what to believe. She had seen no evidence to support the existence of magic, but in her heart, she had always hoped there was. Malindra had used crystals and powders to help her create the illusion, but deep down Naomi knew the old woman’s tricks held no magic, rather illusions for the eyes to pleasure the heart.

  Jeanus bent her head as if she had read Naomi’s mind. Her fragile fingers lifted, and, with a twirling motion, she whirled both hands in opposite directions. Streams of ribboning blue light curled around in excited strains, moving together to form a delicate wheel.

  Breathless, Naomi watched the magic dance before her. How she wanted to touch it, to be one with it, to manipulate its power. Her finger stretched forward and touched it delicately. The magic moved about her fingers, tickling with gentle kisses.

  Then it disappeared, fading away with a wisp of wind.

  Reynolds appeared behind her. “I’m ready. Where do we go?”

  Jeanus stood up again, urgent. “The camp will be the safest place.”

  Reynolds hesitated. His lips pursed in contemplation. “Are you sure?”

  “Be careful of the Blackwoods. They will snatch her.” Jeanus looked through Reynolds. “Don’t be tempted, even though it is shorter.”

  Reynolds slowly agreed.

  She turned to Naomi and fussed with her scarf. “There are spies everywhere. Malindra’s scarf will give you protection. Do not take it off. Trust in your strengths and abilities; they are great. Do not doubt.”

  Strengths and abilities, Naomi thought. She didn’t do anything particularly well. If luck constituted talent she would count it, maybe her sense of balance, and her innate ability to trust others—which also counted as a weakness.

  “Also, be careful of your friends. They are both a strength and a curse.” Jeanus smiled sweetly at her. “It is sad Malindra did not live to see how beautiful you have become.” She kissed Naomi lightly on the cheek. Her finger stroked the side of Naomi’s face. “How much you look like your mother.”

  Naomi stared, shocked. “Did you know her?”

  The answer never came.

  “Quick, put these on.” Reynolds threw her a pair of old, crusty boots, hitting her in the chest.

  Naomi stared at the boots—ugly, black things stinking and rotting with mildew. Somehow, she feared the boots almost more than she feared the danger she was in.

  “And this,” Reynolds urged, handing her a well-draped cloak and a pack full of gear.

  Naomi did what was asked of her, but a small grumble escaped when she felt the weight of the pack. Shifting her body a bit, she could feel the uncomfortable squeeze around her toes. She longed to stretch them out on the cool ground.

  “Jeanus, promise me. Stick with the plan,” Reynolds said behind her.

  The old woman waved goodbye. “It is not me who needs to worry. You talk to me like I’m an old fool.” She smiled at Naomi. “Sounds like he doesn’t trust me.”

  Reynolds bent down and kissed the woman on the cheek. “Sorry. My trust is something you haven’t earned.” He winked at her.

  “Now, go,” she ushered them out. “Go! There is little time.”

  Strange emotions seeped into Naomi’s heart: feelings she hid deep inside that she didn’t fully understand. Longing rose within her, to be with Jeanus, to know her better. The wetness that formed in the corner of her eyes felt foreign. She didn’t like crying.

  “Will I see you again?” she asked.

  “In time, my dear.”

  A clanking sound came from the entrance to the cellar, like something hard was trying to pry open the door.

  Jeanus turned sternly, her white eyes nearly red. “You must go! Now!”

  Reynolds pulled Naomi with him across the room to where an ancient staircase climbed high to the surface. He extinguished his light and stopped at the eaves, listening.

  Naomi heard men’s voices shouting. “What about Jeanus—?” Naomi began, but was quickly silenced by Reynolds’s hand.

  “Go. Climb,” he said in a hurried whisper. “At the top of the stairs, there is a storage chamber. It will lead us out. I’ll be right behind you. Now, go.”

  Naomi did not hesitate. She climbed as quickly as she could in the pitch black. The dirt stairs were worn smooth by time. Once she climbed thirty feet, they tapered off more like a tunnel, winding this way and that in a confusing maze. Though stumbling a few times, Naomi moved forward, feeling around for a grip from the roots and crevasses.

  Bang! She found the door with her head, not realizing it was going to be above her. Naomi went into it full force. She found a ring and used it to lift the hatch, which did not give way easily. But it opened with some effort.

  Sunlight streamed into the stairway, blinding her. She crawled out, squinting, to find herself in a small room surrounded by walls of stone. Crates and barrels lined the room, cramming it with goods and clothing. Reynolds appeared in a matter of seconds. The hidden door slid back into place and became impossible to detect against the dirt and stone.

  “Where are we?” Naomi asked.

  “A Prolian Church,” he answered. “It’s a good escape if you need it. No one looks in a church. I made the tunnel myself.”

  “I’ve never been here,” she recalled.

  “I don’t think Ferrell Bucklingdown is a religious man.”

  “How did you . . . ?” Naomi started, but stopped herself. “You really have been watching me.”

  Reynolds looked at her up and down. “You’re a mess,” he said, dusting some of the dirt off her head.

  Naomi didn’t care. Working on a pig farm for the last few years made her used to dirt. “Will Jeanus be okay?”

  “I wouldn’t worry about her,” Reynolds said. “She can get home all right, resilient little bird.”

  “Why did she come here?”

  Reynolds looked at her, his eyes speaking to her soul. “I asked her to. Earning your trust wouldn’t be easy, and I need your trust.”

  Naomi couldn’t hide her smile. It had worked.

  “Come.” He beckoned her forward, and together they slipped out of the room.

  They entered a room among many hallways, interconnected in a labyrinth of stone. Naomi lost her perspective, but Reynolds smoothly navigated his way, guiding her.

  The grand cathedral echoed like a silent tomb with every footstep the two travelers made. Not a soul stood inside the church, and no one to find them. “It’s a good thing no one’s here,” Reynolds remarked. “I’m not sure they would let someone so dirty on hallowed ground.”

  Naomi stared, trying to catch his meaning. Was he joking with her? She hadn’t expected that. His mouth curled into a smile. But just then, they heard footsteps on the stone floor; rushing footsteps coming from the back passages.

  “Go, go, go!”

  As fast as they could, Naomi and Reynolds ran from the church. The outside streets were empty but for a few wandering souls. Down they ran, taking a few turns to lose their pursuers, all the while hearing their trackers following close behind.

  The wall of the city appeared in sight—but no gate.

  “Can you climb?”

  “Of course.”

  “Show me.”

  Naomi continued to run. The rush of being chased urged her forward. Reynolds’s footsteps followed behind, but she never turned to look. Upon reaching the wall, Naomi spied a tall tree and quickly climbed up t
he branches that stretched out over the edge. As she shimmied herself across, she glanced back to Reynolds.

  Worry overcame her, but the sounds of the guards reminded her of the danger. He had led the guards away from her, away from the tree. The men in blue followed his lead—his movements smart and agile, like he could predict the moments of the others.

  He turned again and led the guards down another alley. A flash of light followed.

  Naomi reached for the edge of the wall and dropped down. She strained to listen to what happened on the other side, but the adrenaline pumping in her veins made her tremble. She couldn’t focus.

  Take off the boots, she thought. Feel the earth under your feet. She sat near the tree and slipped off the boots, tied them together, and slid them over her shoulder. Her toes stretched deep into the grass and the feel of the cool blades helped her relax.

  The tree branches rattled. Naomi looked up to see Reynolds shimmying across the limbs to a safe drop.

  “The boots are off already?” he joked.

  Naomi didn’t know what to say.

  “Come on,” he pulled her up. “I know somewhere safe.”

  Chapter Two

  Memories

  The wind moved through the trees and branches, down the steep slopes of the deep ravine they walked beside. Boulders stuck deep in the ground from ancient ice flows. Roots of trees lay sideways, exposed to natural elements. Most people would find the height daunting, but Naomi found it exhilarating.

  The boots her feet found so uncomfortable now flopped around on her pack as she walked. Her toes moved easily in the grass and dirt, negotiating the boulders with ease, and helping to hasten the journey.

  Every so often, she stumbled, but Reynolds steadied her. She hadn’t been around any men so casually before; it felt strange and intriguing. Reynolds would protect her at the cost of his own life. Goose bumps raised on her arms at the flattering thought.

  The ravine looked dark and dangerous from above, but they scrambled down. Caves lined the sides of exposed rock, with networking connections of arches and alcoves. Naomi hadn’t seen anything so interesting as the descending framework of caverns.

  Soon, Reynolds headed in the direction of their intended hideout. The mouth of the cave hung open, like a gapping maw, with a huge hollow inside—perfect for hiding.

  The hike had consumed the day. It wasn’t late, but Naomi felt drained as they finally settled inside their den.

  “Rest awhile,” Reynolds suggested. “Have some food.”

  Naomi didn’t want to eat, though she knew she should.

  “I want to check something.” He pulled some cheese from his pack and handed it to her. “You’ll be safe. I promise.”

  Reynolds left the cave—and left her alone.

  She stared at the cheese in her hand, hardly believing her circumstances. What was she doing there? Just the day before, she prepared meat to sell and nursed the wounds cut into Zander by his brutal father and his whip.

  After a few nibbles, Naomi leaned her head against the cave wall in thought, wondering about Zander’s safety. She had abandoned him. Of all the times she’d thought of leaving, she never would have—not without him. The heartache of the separation caught her unprepared, her stomach churning at the thought of what might happen to him without her protection.

  Despair emptied any other feeling she had, and she lay still for an immeasurable time. Darkness crept into the cave as the lulling sounds of nocturne came alive around her. She curled into a ball and cried silently.

  ~*~

  Blue . . . All Blue . . .

  A Sea of cloaks . . . Blue as midnight.

  A Crest of Arms!

  March . . . March . . .

  . . . Where is Zander?

  The wheels turn in mud slick from rain.

  . . . Where is Zander?

  A man, broad, stern,

  . . . leads the army

  . . . the parade.

  A man recognized.

  ~*~

  The soft patter of rain pelted the ground outside the cave as Naomi awoke. It took her a moment to remember what had happened and where she was. She looked around. Reynolds? She tried to slide over to the cave opening, only to bump into someone beside her. In the dark, Reynolds’s gray eyes reflected the cloud cover outside.

  “How long have you been here?” she asked without moving another muscle.

  “Long enough.” Reynolds groaned with protest at being disturbed. “Do you always have fitful dreams?”

  “Possibly.” Naomi blushed. “Sometimes I dream about people or places.” Embarrassment washed over her, though it was nothing to be ashamed of. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It might matter more than you think. It sounds like you have a gift.”

  Naomi sat up against the wall, thinking about her most recent dream. Someone else had mentioned her dreams as a gift—Malindra.

  “Do you think my dreams are dangerous?”

  “Could be.”

  “Is that why you took me away?”

  Reynolds continued to lie on the ground, still and quiet. “Well, I can’t prevent you from dreaming.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “You’re safe tonight. How’s that answer?” Reynolds turned and looked directly into her eyes, hiding a smile behind his lips. “Naomi, I promised you, there is nothing I wouldn’t do to protect you. I know if you didn’t trust me, you wouldn’t be here.”

  “I don’t know if I like that answer.” Her voice had fallen quiet. “Why would you risk your life for mine?”

  “My reasoning doesn’t matter right now.”

  He lay back and looked away.

  Naomi felt his silence, and her own growing sense of frustration. “Well, how is this fair? You haven’t answered anything.”

  Reynolds closed his eyes, ignoring her.

  “Can I at least ask where you’re taking me?”

  “North, to a place called the Willows. You will be safe there for a while.”

  “How long is ‘a while’?”

  “We’ll see.” He sat up and reached into his bag to pull out some bread, breaking off a piece and handing it to her. Their hands brushed and he recoiled, like he was ashamed in some way.

  Composing himself, he continued, “I think you will find it much more to your liking than Ferrell Bucklingdown’s pig farm.”

  “And what about Zander?”

  “Once you’re safe, I’ll try to find him.” He rested against the cold rock surface of the cave wall and closed his eyes. “Get some rest, little Naomi.”

  Naomi sat in the stillness, thinking. Hours passed before she fell asleep again.

  ~*~

  A gentle nudge on her shoulder, and Naomi woke. She shrugged a little to lift the dream from her mind. Looking around, she could see gray light visible on the eastern horizon.

  “We must hurry.” Reynolds pulled out some food for her. “Here, eat this.”

  Naomi took it without question.

  Reynolds packed what he could, a look of worry on his face. “I think we’re being tracked.”

  “Someone is following us?”

  “It appears that way, but I’m not quite sure. We must be creative in our choices. Here.” He threw her the heavy green cloak. “You’ll need to keep your hood up. Your hair will give us away.”

  Naomi did as she was asked, sweeping her hair from around her face and tying it in an untidy knot on the back of her head. The cloak weighed heavy and felt scratchy on her already-sore body. Straps from her pack rubbed raw on her delicate skin, unprepared for the force exerted upon it.

  The two followed along a small brook that traveled down into the ravine. The scrub oak thickened near the water, and cattails bent in the gentle breeze. The boots Reynolds had generously offered Naomi, removed the moment he wasn’t looking, hung around her belt. The feel of the soft earth between her toes made her feel more at ease.

  The morning smells of deep earth and wet foliage brought memories to the surface
. Her dream still fresh in her mind, she could not shake it away, like walking the fine line of reality. So much bothered her; all of her anxiety came back—the man in her dream who led the guards, who went by the name Lockwood.

  Even remembering his name brought chills. Guilt filled her soul at the thought. If only she could have warned Malindra. She’d had a dream the night before it happened, a premonition of her caregiver’s fate. But she dismissed it much like many other dreams. Only eleven at the time, Naomi remembered the details but was still too young to comprehend what everything meant or how her life would change.

  She remembered the man approaching, just as she had seen in a dream. He came for Malindra. She still didn’t know why; Malindra stayed away from the authorities and liked simple things, quiet living.

  That day, Naomi saw him approaching with two others, down by the river bridge. She only had seconds to warn Malindra, and ran as fast as her bare feet could take her.

  Naomi found her sitting in peaceful meditation in the small cottage. With tears streaming down her face, she spoke of the men coming, tripping over her words as the panic set in.

  Malindra looked surprised but calm. Sweat beaded on her weathered brow. She came and caressed Naomi’s cheek. “Do not be afraid. It is time to be brave. But I must hide you.” She kissed her forehead. “Quick!”

  “But what about you?”

  “Whatever happens to me, they must not know you are here.”

  She reached down and lifted up a small mat. Underneath it appeared nothing but floor. The old woman rubbed the planks softly with the palm of her hand, and lines began to appear in the wood. Suddenly, as if by magic, a hidden door appeared in the floorboards. “Down here.” She pulled the silk scarf tight around Naomi. “Do not take this off, whatever you do. It will always protect you. Promise me.”

  Without any hesitation, Naomi nodded and slipped down to the secret room. It was not much more than a dug-out dirt crawlspace, only good to hide someone. Malindra replaced the door, small slivers of light seeping through the cracks; Naomi could still see her guardian, but only slightly.