Taren didn’t answer, but listened to the violent pulsing in Aristatolis, the familiar pain it created, the poison spreading through his body.
Behind them, Katia glanced at Naomi. “Are you okay?”
Naomi didn’t answer but turned and ran away.
~*~
. . . surging power.
. . . blinding light.
Naomi went straight to her tent. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. The greed pulsing through her body, the screaming invasion. Reynolds had meant well when he left her here, but she shouldn’t be around the others.
. . . continual pounding
. . . throbbing
. . . roaring inside.
Thump . . . Thump . . .
She couldn’t calm down. It terrified her, what her body wanted to do. The residue still filled her veins, coursing through her system like an addictive drug. She wanted more, though she knew of the hidden danger. She had to leave, get out before she did something she would regret. Innocent people could be hurt because of the unbridled magic she had and didn’t know how to control.
She grabbed what she could in a moment—just the bare essentials, her cloak, a little food.
Naomi heard voices coming. She had no time. She ran out the door and down into the forest.
. . . Warm tingles on her bare feet.
Push . . . run!
It didn’t matter how far she went. She didn’t care as long as she got away safely. She heard her name called again and again—sometimes close, sometimes far away. Farther and farther she ran, till her heart thumped loudly in her chest.
. . . He wants us.
. . . Forcing us from safety.
. . . Stealing the light!
If she had to, she would go back through the Blackwoods. The horror of what she had done to Aristatolis in the yard seemed much worse than the monsters in the woods.
At a clearing of trees, she slowed down, not believing what lay before her. The Willows come back into view, but she approached the other side of the camp, by Lytte’s tent. She could see a few boys in the yard, talking fast, excited about her interruption of the peace.
She took off in the opposite direction as fast as she could. All she had to do was run away, but she watched the small thatched roof of the mess hall come into view.
. . . No!
Get us away!
She felt the trap, the continual circling and never escaping. So this was the prison the others mentioned. She quickly turned and ran back into the woods, searching for an exit. The forest thickened. She had difficulty maneuvering through tangles and trees. Voices approached not far from her. She stopped and hid behind some shrubbery.
“It doesn’t matter,” the voice called out; Katia, arguing with Landon again.
“Are you kidding?” Landon exclaimed. “She has to be the most powerful person I’ve ever seen. Honestly, you think she didn’t know that?”
“Yes. But it doesn’t matter. We have to find her before she does something stupid.”
“Like what? Trying to kill one of the greatest teachers I’ve ever met? Is that what you mean by stupid?”
“It wasn’t her fault!”
“Maybe not, but I don’t understand how you can live all your life without the faintest knowledge you possess power like that.”
“I don’t know. I never got to ask her.”
“She is close,” Micah squeaked from nearby. “Quiet, I hear her heart fluttering.”
Naomi grimaced. Of course. She had forgotten Micah could hear heartbeats. Regardless of how far she might travel, they would find her anyway. She looked up and saw the three looking down at her as she huddled under a bush.
“What are you doing?” Katia asked.
Embarrassed at having been found so easily, Naomi sat up. “Trying to get out of here.”
Katia smiled. “Nice try. I think my first attempt I circled the camp twelve times before I gave up.”
“What do you mean?”
“We can’t leave,” Landon informed her. “We’re trapped here like prisoners. Every pathway out leads you right back in.”
“So, if every way I go leads the way back, how did I get in the camp in the first place?”
“Oh, there is a way out,” Micah spoke up. “We just have not found it yet.”
Despair ran through her. She couldn’t do anything. She had to go back and face the reality of what had happened.
“Come on.” Landon stuck out his hand to help her up. “Let’s get back before they start hunting us.”
“Have you really never seen anything like . . . I mean, what I did to . . . ?” She trailed off, afraid of what the answer might be.
All three shook their heads.
“What is wrong with me?” she uttered more to herself than to anyone else.
Katia sat next to her. “Are you kidding me? Naomi, I have been working for years on my magic, waiting for something like that to happen with me, and you did it on your first day. It was incredible!”
Landon agreed. “It wasn’t just what happened, but more the possibility of what could happen. You know?”
Naomi shook her head.
Micah approached, lifting her chin so she could see into his deep sapphire blue eyes. “You are more than what you believe.” His voice no longer squeaked with unbridled enthusiasm but was calm and soothing, more grown-up and fatherly. “I can feel the same fibers of your magic that are in mine, but, also different, much more complex.”
Frustration overwhelmed her. “I don’t know how to use it. I didn’t even know I had it!”
“Aristatolis will know,” Katia spoke up.
“No. I almost killed him today.”
“Not on purpose. He’ll overlook that. I think you might’ve even impressed him.”
Naomi just glared. How absurd. No one in their right mind would want anything to do with her, Aristatolis more than anyone.
Micah frowned, looking into the distance. “I hear shouting. We need to go. Bad things can happen when the truth is not there to speak.”
Landon explained. “Rumors will start about you, and that could be bad.”
He helped Naomi up, then attempted to help Katia, but she was already standing. “Too late. Maybe next time.”
“Which way is camp?” Naomi called after her.
“It really doesn’t matter, does it?” She walked off in a huff.
Landon leaned closer to Naomi. “What’s wrong with her?”
Naomi half-smiled. She knew; it was one of the unwritten laws between girls that boys would never understand.
Landon stood out. His chiseled dark features would make any girl look twice. His devoting so much time and care to Naomi must be driving Katia mad. Of course, she liked the attention, too, but Katia didn’t need to worry. Naomi’s interests lay elsewhere.
~*~
They walked back to the camp, entering through the south side by the mess hall. Some of the boys saw them return and called to the others. A commotion of voices began, some accusing, some curious.
As they approached the yard, packs of boys watched her pass. Naomi stiffened. They already thought she was strange enough; this certainly wouldn’t help.
The shouting and pointing toward the crew soon became hostile.
“Shut it!” Landon shouted. “All of you!!”
Most of the boys settled down. Only a few kept pointing and murmuring.
“Naomi is just like us! She is still human. It’s time to grow up and stop looking at her like she’s not. If everyone is warmed up, you should be doing your movements now.”
Lytte appeared out of nowhere and stood like a statue, his hands raised high, and the crowd quieted.
“Landon will lead you for the time being,” Lytte spoke, his voice commanding and deep, unusual for him. “Movements!”
Shaken back to their senses, the boys formed into groups to practice sparring with each other.
“Naomi, come with me. Micah, you, too.” Lytte stopped and turned to the group. �
�Taren! I need you also.”
One of the boys came forward. Naomi’s insides twisted as he approached. Tall, lean, brooding, with an intimidating presence, he wore an unreadable expression.
“What about me?” Katia pleaded, turning to Lytte.
“I believe you have Movements.”
Katia sulked.
Naomi lowered her head and walked next to Lytte, with Micah and Taren trailing behind. This couldn’t be good. It was Aristatolis’ fault, in all honesty. She could see his thoughts now: the hunger, the greed in his soul that wanted her magic. She hadn’t been able to break the bond, and believed Aristatolis was to blame for that, too.
The inside of Lytte’s tent felt stiflingly warm on such a day. Aristatolis lay where Naomi had been only the day before—on the cot, layered with blankets. His eyes open, he watched her every movement, captivated by her presence. His body did not move.
“Naomi,” Lytte gestured to a seat next to Aristatolis. “Please sit. Aristatolis is very weak but needs to ask you a few questions.”
Naomi obeyed. Micah and Taren stood silently in the background, watching.
The color in Aristatolis’ eyes had changed a little, like two colors mixed into one; the emerald green flashed with pale light, glinting and piercing. He looked frightening, as if possessed. His already frail frame appeared withered, glistening with sweat.
“I am sorry.” Aristatolis’ expression intensified. He lunged toward her, a roar erupting from his chest.
Lytte reacted instantly. He placed his palms on Aristatolis’ head and sent him back into unconsciousness.
Naomi felt the tears well up in her eyes. “What did I do to him?”
“I am not sure. I do not think that you have the answers he was looking for.” Lytte smiled, trying to help her feel more comfortable. “Can you tell me about your experience with the magic?”
Naomi’s tears ran silently. She wasn’t sure where to start. “I honestly didn’t know I had magic. Please, believe me. I always knew I was different, but I never believed this kind of magic existed. And I definitely didn’t think I could do this.”
“Do not blame yourself.” Lytte placed his aging hand on her shoulder. “Please, tell me what happened.”
Naomi told him what she could. The magic didn’t do anything at first—it kept quiet—but when Aristatolis approached, something stirred, like a monster awakening inside her. She described how it felt, the pulsing and hunger, crawling its way to the surface of her skin, its safety now compromised. Naomi had been given a vision into Aristatolis’s magic—its desires and the curiosity about her own. She’d reacted with the tiniest defense, just to get him to leave her alone—not with the incredible shock that forced its way out. Naomi filled in all the details, not leaving anything out. She wanted to reveal anything that might help save his life.
Lytte turned to Micah. “What did you see, Micah Shadower?”
Micah stepped forward. “Truth is its own weapon. She speaks it.”
“How did it make you feel?”
Micah smiled. “It filled me completely, a warm incredible sensation. It felt familiar. Like a relative. A lovely reunion . . .” His thoughts seemed to drift into a different realm of thought.
“Taren. What did you see?”
The tall man stepped forward, moving his gaze to Naomi, his eyes pulsing with intensity. He looked puzzled as he took in her face. Naomi felt an unexplainable fear under his scrutiny, tunneling to find her secrets. With the same intensity, he turned to Lytte.
“Aristatolis was curious about the magic. Her first appearance with it appealed to him. He attempted to pierce through to her soul, trying to get to the mysteries. He found none.”
“What of Naomi? What do you see?’
Taren again turned to her, staring in silence for a moment longer. “I don’t know,” he answered finally. “I . . . it’s hard to communicate. I can see Aristatolis’ side, however.”
“Well, that is something.” Lytte moved over to Naomi, stroking her hair again. He touched her arms and examined her more closely than before, then shook his head. “My dear, I am at a loss. The same bitter conclusion.”
Naomi searched for the meaning in his words.
“I have no answers,” Lytte smiled, his voice lightening again. “I know you are as curious about yourself as we are. But we may have to work out the mystery together. Taren, do you have a theory?”
“Aristatolis has been poisoned.”
Naomi sat, stunned. “By me?”
“I believe,” Lytte intervened, “that he was not prepared for your magic and let it penetrate deep within himself before letting go, leaving a lethal dose in his system. He seems possessed, and may even have cravings for more. Is that right?”
Taren agreed.
“Tell me about the magic, Taren?”
Taren flinched and turned his head back toward Naomi. “It’s . . . very . . .” He tried again to concentrate. “. . . violent. Hostile to the host. Pure and complex. There is no stain, no illusion.”
Reynolds had been completely right, Naomi realized bitterly. He had known of the dangers, but she hadn’t realized it until she could see it for herself. “I had no idea. I don’t know what to do.”
Lytte carefully thought his answer through. “I think this will be your first lesson.”
“Oh . . . no,” Naomi stumbled back. “I’m too dangerous.”
Lytte’s voice filled with tenderness. “I’m sorry if you are uncomfortable with your newfound magic, but in order to save Aristatolis’ life, you will need to believe in yourself, in your abilities, and in your magic.”
“I can’t . . .” She shook her head, scared and confused. “How am I supposed to do that? It exploded out of me today.”
“That was not all your doing. As we have already discussed, it was Aristatolis’ own fault.”
“That doesn’t help my confidence.”
“I think that no one is in danger of your magic.”
Taren’s head lifted at the remark, as if he questioned the statement.
Naomi crumbled. “How can you say that? I don’t know what will happen if I use it.”
Lytte looked deeply into her eyes. “I want to help you become a healer. Your ability to heal yourself is fascinating. If any of that power could be put forth to help others, I think it will console the monster within you.”
Naomi heaved, her breath stuck somewhere in her chest. “I don’t know how.”
“I want you to try and think about what the magic wants to do. Now that you know it is in you, you have the power to control it. But the magic is limited in its understanding of control. You must learn to communicate with it and befriend it in order to use it. It did not want to come out of hiding today, but was forced out. That is why it showed its power of destruction. Now, let’s try to use it in a way it wants to be used.”
Naomi had no words. Tears trickled down her face.
Micah came forward and placed his little hand on hers. A spark of energy surged through her body. The magic alive within her purred at the touch. “Try. Find the fibers. Find the source.”
Naomi stood up and paced the tent, taking deep breaths. “Okay,” she said to herself. “I can do this.”
Her eyes closed, her body began to relax, her heart eased, the knot in her stomach unraveled, and her brain cleared. Her thoughts traveled her recent memories—through past dreams and realms of thought. She heaved another deep sigh and she thought of her tree: her happiness and the contentment she found there, soaking in the smells of the wet wood and gently swaying in the branches, the sounds of the wind rustling the leaves, whipping around like fingers in flight.
. . . it was there . . .
She could see it—a star dazzling in the corners of her mind, calm and peaceful. Beautiful streams of light danced about it in a playful manner. She could smell it, like sweet winter roses bursting with fragrance as the season ended. She stretched her hand to touch it. The tickling fibers wrapped around her, and a sensation of comple
teness coursed through her.
Naomi felt enchanted, content, and happy. She could stay there in wonderment for the rest of time. But the thoughts of reality slipped in, and she didn’t know what to do.
“Help me,” she whispered, hoping to somehow understand.
‘We are here.’ The voice seemed distant, like a whisper. The communication came not from talking, but feeling. Naomi fed from the pulsing energy, weaving in and out of the fibers of the star. She knew what she must do. She knew how she could help.
Naomi opened her eyes, the magic still close behind her eyelids. Silently, she walked back to Aristatolis and placed one hand on his neck, rubbing gently as she had for so many years on her own neck, on her own mark. She asked the magic to retrieve the poison and become whole, to take what was stolen and return it to itself.
It did so instantly. A light spark emitted from her fingers as she rubbed gently. She felt it surge back into herself and disappear.
Aristatolis awoke. His breathing and eye color had returned to normal. He blinked, adjusting to the light in the room. Then his eyes locked on Naomi, a look of peculiar speculation covering his face. Not knowing how to take it, Naomi backed away toward the tapestries.
“Incredible!” Micah yelled. “Connection!”
Taren’s expression remained intense and unreadable.
Lytte’s eyes swelled with tears. “Come here, child.” Naomi rushed to him, like the father she’d never known. “You are indeed special.”
Naomi just sobbed in his arms.
“From now on,” Lytte whispered, “let us have you meditate in here and not in the yard, shall we?”
Chapter Nine
Change of Plans
Reynolds moved as fast as he could away from the Willows, traveling east instead of south. He saw the Apex—the meeting of the enclosure of the camp and the outside world—before him. Taren didn’t have a chance of finding it; its clever design had proven itself again. A pang shot across his heart as he exited, knowing he was deserting Naomi, but the choice was clear: he couldn’t stay.
Going through the Blackwoods again would be a gamble, so traveling east felt like a much better route. He had promised to check on the kid for Naomi, but going south was borderline suicidal. If the guards had taken Zander to Southwick, Reynolds wouldn’t be able to rescue him without a grand escape plan.
Vivatera (Vivatera Series Book 1) Page 10