So much for me not being in danger, Jonah, I thought, recalling his words to me the day before.
“What are you talking about?” Adon asked, and for the first time, I heard fear in his voice.
Stepping closer, Braun never took his eyes off me. “Your people from across the Rock would have never come to the Wildlands unless… something monumental had occurred. I simply created that catalyst.” He held out his arms in pride. “Me, little Braun, the fuck-up, brought a Sarian to our land. Too bad it took so long.” He shrugged.
“That’s why you brought the Tikil Lie to the common people, and what,” Jonah surmised, “it wasn’t enough to make a man and woman dependent, you had to poison it too?”
“That’s right.” Braun turned his attention to Jonah. “Dependency wasn’t… dire enough to warrant a stop to it like I thought. But taint it? Make the good people need aid? It worked, didn’t it?”
“You’re insane,” Leon scoffed. “You are responsible for scores of victims who are no longer living in this world. And you proclaim your intent was for the good of the land?”
Without waiting for a response, Adon added, “Regardless, this ends today, Braun. I invoke the Tratgha. Pick your weapon.”
I knew from my studies that the Tratgha was a Wildlander ceremonial fight-to-the-death. An honorable one. Even faced with a maniac, Forus Adon maintained his dignity and heart. He would give his brother something that wasn’t deserved: respect. My heart ached for the Forus leader.
My eyes caught movement to my right, and I turned my gaze, only to find the ground creeping, swirling, an ocean of black and headed our way. Something inside me teased at my consciousness. A piece of a tale I’d heard in my First Year of training. The Adama.
Suddenly, I knew what I had to do. I knew now why the Prima La’Na had sent me here.
14
LEON
This was turning more into a shitshow as the minutes passed by. Not only was Braun completely insane and my leader was going to fight to the death, but the damn ground was drunk on Tikil Lie, taking a life of its own.
As Adon walked to the center of the small clearing where we stood, I debated on what the hell to do. Behind me, the horses had lost their minds—who could blame them—and in front of me, behind Adon and his crazy brother, the river was coming to life, threatening to flood us all.
I knew Adon could handle himself, Jonah as well; it was Lyra I needed to protect.
We should never had brought her here. Yeah, too late for that.
Since Jonah was Adon’s Second, it was up to him to witness the call to the Tratgha. My plan? Grab the Sarian and run like the wind and take her far away from here. But when I stepped back, turning on my heel, Lyra was pulling away from a panicked Jonah, her brow determined. I didn’t know whether to laugh or open my mouth in shock when her knee made contact with Jonah’s goods.
While he bent over in agony, Lyra stepped a few paces forward, her arms and palms spread, her lips moving silently in some kind of prayer.
What the hell was she doing? Running to her, I touched her shoulder, and a blast of… something knocked me on my ass. Light glowed around her body in undulating ribbons of red, yellow, and green.
“It’s working!” I heard Braun yell.
Confused, I sat up and saw Adon on all fours. Wicked vines snaked their way around his limbs, holding him to the earth. Beside me, in the same position as Adon, Jonah struggled to crawl closer to where a glowing Lyra stood. And on his side not too far away in front of us was Braun. His mouth open in gleeful rapture, captivated by whatever Lyra was trying to do.
What sounded like the roar of a thousand lightning strikes thundered down around us all, sending the spray of the river’s water pelting against my skin. Darkness had set in now, and the colors coming from Lyra’s body were unlike anything I’d ever seen in my past inebriated states. The light was so bright, I couldn’t see anything but her.
“Adon! Jonah!” I had to shout over the roar to be heard.
“Here, brother!” they both shouted back.
“What is happening?” I asked, even though I was sure there’d be no answer.
The smell of ozone filled my nostrils as softer-than-velvet—rope?—wrapped around my ankles and wrists, trapping me in my sitting position. Beneath my fingers, the once spongy ground changed to tufts of soft grass, bringing with it the scent of sweet-smelling flowers.
In what felt like eternity passing, the roaring dissipated, replaced with a silence so heavy it made my ears hurt. Suddenly, I could see again. I was on my back. The stars were bright as crystals, twinkling in the black depths. Nighttime like I’ve never seen or breathed before held me in thrall.
Lyra.
Like waking up from a dream, I looked for her and realized the glowing woman was gone. Instead, a white heap with silver hair lay on the ground. I rushed to her side as the silken ropes of vines released their hold on me.
I reached beneath her and supported her head in the crook of my arm. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks whiter than the moon that shone upon her face “Lyra, wake up, my lady.” With my other hand, I swept her hair away from her brow and kissed her skin there. She was frighteningly cold. I shook her then, my heart going in my throat.
“Is she… Dovia, is she alive?” Adon was by my side in an instant. “Jonah! We need you over here.”
I shook my head in confusion. “Lyra? Wake up, dammit.” As I held her and pulled her onto my lap, I heard a groan. Jonah made his way over. I didn’t want to let go of Lyra, but I placed her gently back on the soft ground as Jonah began checking her.
“Brother,” Braun called weakly nearby. My gaze went to him. In the moonlight, he looked grotesque, his body curled on its side. Inky, dark vines held him fast to the ground. His eyes shone bright with wetness—either from tears of regret or pain, I couldn’t tell.
I looked over at Adon as he stood and walked over to his brother, crouching beside him. Since the night was still silent as the dead, I heard every word they said.
“I’m… sorry… brother. Forgive me. I am…leaving this world now.” Braun’s voice was a wet sound, raspy and sick. “I did wrong.” He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them. He looked as he had when we were younger, and the sight made something in my chest ache.
Adon cleared his throat, then touched Braun’s brow. “I know, brother. May the Mother heal your soul. You are forgiven.”
“She will heal this… land. My gift… to you…” Braun whispered, then was no more. His eyes shut forever. As the vines released their hold on him, retreating back into the night, sprays of night tears bloomed around him, their sweet scent wafting on the air from their waxy, white petals.
I gave Adon a moment of privacy and turned back to Jonah and Lyra. My heart, which I thought had shrunk to the size of a pea these past few months, swelled almost painfully in my chest as I looked at the Sarian. Small and dainty her body might be, it held a strength and tenacious will inside like a sacred temple.
She could not die.
Dovia, please. Please let her live.
15
LYRA
‘Wake, my child. See me.’
That voice called to me over and over like a soft melody, teasing my mind like petals on the wind.
Something heavy was pressing on me, and I couldn’t open my eyes. Pain like I had never felt before swelled in waves from my head to my toes. What in the Mother had happened?
‘Lyra Adama Sai, open your eyes. See me.’
With all my might, I lifted my lids. It was like moving boulders, but I accomplished it. A meadow greeted me, green and vibrant, filled with flowers of every color and shape. In the air, tufts of dandelion floated by. I smiled as they danced in the sunlight.
“Mother?” I knew Gana was here with me. The pain was gone now. I was on my back, my hands at my sides, my body cushioned on the soft earth. Everything my vision sought was beautiful.
‘Yes, my child.’
“Why am I here?”
T
he dulcet, maternal voice brushed over me. ‘You deserve a rest. You have done a mighty deed and are far from out of danger in the life plain.’
Braun. The Wildlands. Tikil Lie.
“The men… Adon, Jonah, Leon. Are they alive?” From what felt like faraway, panic tried to make itself known, but it drifted by as fast as it came.
“They are fine. Unharmed.”
I let the relief wash over me. “Thank you, Mother.”
‘They are very special to you.’
Smiling, I nodded, my hair warm around me, making me sleepy. I snuggled deeper into the earth, content as a kitten. “Very, Mother. I had no…”
Finishing my words, Gana replied, ‘…idea love was possible for you, Lyra?’
I closed my tired eyes. “Exactly. But I’ll always remember them.”
The breeze ruffled my hair, tickling my face—Gana’s sigh. ‘Rest, little one. Sleep.’
And I did.
“BE CAREFUL, JONAH.”
“Adon, again, I know what I’m doing.”
“I really don’t think that’s the way to do it.” The voice was gruff. And familiar.
“Adon, for Dovia’s sake, let Jonah work,” a new voice scoffed. Also familiar.
“Fine, fine. I’ll just… go gather firewood.”
“We already have plenty,” the scoffer said with a sardonic tone.
“Then I’ll find something else to do!” The gruff voice moved further away.
A sigh tickled my ear, and the scoffer asked, “So how is she doing? And tell me the truth. It’s been three days, Jonah. She’s still colder than ice.”
Speaking of cold, I was freezing. Why was I so cold? Was it wintertime? That couldn’t be right, as I remembered being hotter than an oven not too long ago. Seemed like I was always praying for snow, though, so maybe Gana granted my wish.
“Everything points to her just resting,” the other voice answered. “I’m not familiar with Sarian biology, their particular metabolisms, so maybe that has something to do with it.”
Another sigh, this one followed by a scruffy, scratchy sound. Instantly, warmth covered me.
Oh, that was nice.
“Did she just smile?”
“What?”
“I think she smiled!”
“Do whatever it was you just did, Leon.”
The warmth disappeared then. I didn’t like that.
“See her frown? Jonah, she’s coming back. Watch.” More scruffing and scratching, then sweet warmth.
“Lyra, can you hear me?” The scoffer’s voice was softer now and held a note of a smile.
“Hmm?” my throat hummed in return.
“By the gods, you’re back. Lyra,” he whispered fiercely. I felt warm lips touch my head, and the smell of fresh grass on a sunny afternoon filled my nose.
“Mmm hmm.” Wonderful smell, wonderful heat.
“I’ll go get Adon. Be right back,” the other one quickly said.
I laid there, content. Smelling lazy afternoons even though it was snowing. I was happy.
“Thank Dovia you are alive. Don’t do that again, you hear me?” More kisses, more yummy scent.
“Promise,” I purred in contentment, then I gave into the Mother’s arms and went back to sleep, dreaming of snowflakes melting on hot skin.
16
JONAH
Five days had passed since the meeting with Braun and the night that had scared the life out of me. Five days of waiting, worrying. Tempers were short those first three days between the three of us as we waited for our prayers to Dovia to be answered, for the woman we all had quickly fallen in love with to recover.
Two days ago, when Leon had seen her smile in her sleep, joy like I’d never felt filled the world, adding even more color and beauty to our camp—the place where all that craziness had happened the night Braun had died.
After Adon had made a pyre and set Braun’s body down the river, we had decided it was best to stay here on this now consecrated land of flowers and life. Even though days and nights had passed, the visual proof of the Sarian’s miracle never failed to inspire awe in us.
The flowers simply continued to grow over her, like the Mother’s arms were holding her close, feeding her the healing that she needed. Had I not been so worried and feeling like a toad on a log for not being able to help Lyra, I would have been a bit more reverent. But as it was, neither Adon, Leon, nor I relaxed for more than a moment.
Finally, after briefly waking up, only to go back to sleep, Lyra opened her beautiful blue eyes. Over the past day, her temperature had started regulating, rising to the warm, healthy range that didn’t scare the hell out of me. It wouldn’t be long now when we’d be able to travel.
Gingerly, Lyra sat up with my assistance. She was covered in a mossy-down sheet that had mysteriously appeared on her that first night. Now, the moss rescinded, practically disintegrating before my eyes. I was behind her, supporting her weight against my chest, my legs spread, caging her close to me.
“Lyra, welcome back.” I kissed the side of her neck, not missing the small look of rebuke from Adon who sat close to Lyra’s feet. Beside me, Leon held Lyra’s hand.
“What in the…world?”
Dovia, it was good to hear her voice again.
“Pretty insane, right?” Leon chuckled. He was grinning ear to ear, his voice a little deep with emotion. No matter how much he and Adon denied it, I knew the love they felt for her matched my own.
“Adama,” she whispered.
I pulled her silky tresses to the side and watched her gaze all around. Watched her take in the flora and fauna, some even I didn’t recognize.
“Adama?” Adon touched her slippered foot. Like her hair, every part of her was clean as if she’d recently bathed and dressed in freshly laundered clothes.
She turned her gaze to Adon. “I channeled Adama… but Mother Gana, how?”
Adon raised an eyebrow at me in question.
Interestingly enough, I knew the tale. I thought it over, making the connections, then explained the myth to them. “Adama was one of the Ancients. Her sister Parame and she shared the power of healing; Adama healed nature. Parame healed the humans who walked amongst nature. Both were daughters of Gana.” I paused, deep in thought. “There is a tale that Adama was taken one day, and Parame searched and searched for her, but never found her. Before long, the people forgot about the twin sister who healed and loved the earth. Gana wept but threw all her love into Parame, who in turn—”
“Taught the humans the Art of Parame, of healing, in hopes that their devotion would one day pay penance to the Lost Daughter,” Lyra finished.
We sat in silence, only the sounds of chirping birds nearby and the buzzing of fat bumblebees could be heard.
Her voice broke the quiet. “Braun?”
“Dead, Lyra.” Adon rubbed her other foot now, his eyes never leaving her face.
“I am so sorry, Adon. I know you loved him.”
He nodded in return. “Thank you. He is with the Great Mother now.”
“May Gana have mercy,” she whispered to herself. “Funny how things come full circle, isn’t it?” She leaned forward to run her hand over a spray of bluebonnets and primrose.
“How so, lady?” Leon asked.
She sighed. “That one’s evil intent brought forth good.”
“You mean you?” I asked, wanting the return of her warmth against my chest again. I never wanted to let her go. But I couldn’t be selfish. She belonged only to herself.
She shook her head. “Adama. Gana used me as a vessel. I heard Her call.”
We were silent again for a few beats until Adon stood. “We’ll rest here another night, then if all is well, we’ll head back home. I’ll find us some game to eat.” He hesitated, opened his mouth, then closed it again.
“Spit it out, Adon,” Leon said, tossing the head of a dahlia at him.
Adon gave him a look that would melt Tymus if he were here. I laughed but stopped when that look turned my way.
“I’m glad you’re awake and whole, Lyra. You had us scared.” His jaw tensed, and he looked to the river before turning back to glance between me and Leon. I gave him a short nod. He let out a breath. “We’d like you to consider staying at the tabernacle for at least a week. It will give you time to recover and time for us to plan an escort for your return to your Order.”
Lyra leaned back against my chest once more. I wrapped my arms around her, closed my eyes, and inhaled her scent as unobtrusively as I could. I knew her next words would hurt, but I—we—were prepared for them, nonetheless.
In a soft tone, one that hinted humility and grace far older than her years, she said, “I will do that, Forus Adon. Thank you.”
17
LYRA
It took its time, my healing. Not just my body and energy but my mind as well. Ever since I’d woken up in Whispering Valley, a piece of me was born—small and slight, an infant in need of nourishment. That piece grew strong and healthy each day, stretching its tiny limbs and forming connections, merging with the rest of me. I didn’t know what it was, exactly, but it felt like… home.
When we finally returned back to Forus Adon’s village, the welcoming we received had shocked me almost as much as waking up to a paradise on the forest floor of Whispering Valley. Everyone in the village was there to greet us, all healthy and rosy-cheeked. Brine, Cant, Trinity and the others, all full of smiles and laughter. “Lana,” they had called me.
I smiled to myself now as I sat here in my private garden outside the rooms Adon had insisted I take. They were his parents’, he’d said, and that they needed good use. He had never used the rooms for himself, taking the common-sized one across the great room.
Each day since I’d been back, I’d sit outside on the small veranda that maintained a sense of privacy with its latticed walls of flowering plants. Tymus would sometimes sit with me, while Deanna—whom I’d grown quite close to these last few days—would serve us wine and a cold stew of fruits and nuts.
Leaving Eden Page 6