Eden's Creatures (13 page)

Cal passed her with a wiggle of his eyebrows and she let him. How carefree he was! Despite all the hardships he’d had to endure, he still loved life. He actually believed that life was his Wonder and not death.

Dear Maker, how absurd! Right? Or
, she thought with distress,
is it possible that the Faedin have it wrong? Do we truly know everything or only what we’ve been taught?

Up ahead, Cal came to a stop and Stassi, lost in her ruminations, slammed into his back.

“Holy crap, what is that?” he asked in horror.

She peered around him at the Tree That Will Not Die. At the epitome of all wickedness. “Pure evil. It is what the entire earth will look like if the serpent gets free.”

Cal took an involuntary step back.

“Do not worry. The serpent needs a pure human. You are no longer a threat.”

He heard her words, but she knew he didn’t completely accept them. In his mind, he was still pure human. Still had the same feelings and thoughts as before. Still felt like the old Cal. Time would prove him wrong.

“That is why the Faedin are so guarded,” she continued, “both physically and emotionally. Only the strong can prevent this from spreading to your realm. Only the brave. The weak do not belong.”

He turned to face her with a weary smile. “It’s not weak to love and to laugh. If anything, these connections with others make you stronger.”

Love?
Was that the pesky little word responsible for her recent maladies? The racing heart whenever Cal looked at her? The longing to laugh with his joys and cry with his pain?

“That is why I chose you. To teach me these things.”

“Ah, yes, your broken little human.”

“Your scars make you who you are. You would not be Cal without them.” He did not respond, just turned to stare back at the tree. A look so innocent still. “But you are changing,” she reminded him.

He surprised her by nodding. But even if he truly was starting to believe, his troubles lay deeper. She knew he still struggled with his place here and often thought of his family. She sensed that these attachments he spoke of were hard to break. Even the ones that hurt the most.

“You are human and you are Faedin. The best of both, and I accept you as you are.” She grabbed his coat at the chest with both fists. “Accept me, Cal! Accept your life here. Help us contain the threat that endangers us all!”

Her heart ached at sight of the lone tear that fell from his eye.

“No one has ever accepted me before,” he told her, scrubbing his face. “Not that I can remember, anyway. I… I don’t know if you can understand what it feels like to be shunned and beaten and ridiculed every day. Every. Single. Day.” He shook his head, ridding himself of unbearable memories. “It just shrinks you. Makes you feel small and worthless. Like… you don’t deserve to live.”

“That life is over, Cal! You will never suffer again!”

He made a keening noise deep in his throat and pulled her close against his chest. His mouth crashed down on hers and he worked his lips over hers with the desperation of a man dying of thirst. His hand twisted into her hair, holding her captive, giving her no room to resist. He need not have worried. She met every thrust of his tongue with one of her own, wanting nothing more than to assure him that he was wanted. His free hand slid gently over her bare shoulder, leaving a trail of heat that awakened every nerve in her body.

“I want to hold you forever,” he murmured against her lips. “It all makes sense here. You make sense.”

Stassi didn’t know how long they held each other, only that it felt better than anything she had ever experienced. The irony in the fact that she could find such solace in the presence of such evil was not lost on her. Worlds were converging. Old ways questioned. New ways explored.

All because of Cal.

He linked his fingers with hers and lifted them to his lips. “Yes,” he whispered. “I accept.”

Stassi’s eyes pulled him in until he felt like he was falling into a bottomless pit. Helpless. Flailing. There would be no turning back now. Wherever he landed, they would continue the journey side by side.

She pulled out of his arms with a sigh of regret. “It is getting late. We should get back. The last trial starts at twilight.”

Cal groaned. “Tonight? What is it this time? Swallowing swords? Fighting lions?”

“No, we will be fighting Fallen. It’s a real raid.”

He hissed through his teeth. He had been rushing along this path for days now, so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but the thought of taking another life — even one touched by a wicked curse — twisted his guts into knots.

As Stassi started away, he walked beside her, refusing to let go of her hand. She looked down in question.

“It’s called holding hands. Just go with it.”

A tiny smile lurked at the corners of her mouth, but to Cal it looked like a burst of sunshine. They continued on in companionable silence, enjoying the peace of the forest and the feel of each other.

When they arrived back at the village, heads turned at sight of their entwined fingers. The children screeched and pointed. The men outright ogled, and the women hid smiles behind their hands.

Cal lifted Stassi’s hand to his lips.

The entire gathering scattered like leaves in the wind as though he planned to mate with her then and there.

“That was not nice,” Stassi said in amusement as she watched them all go.

“It was just a kiss.”

“To you. To them, it is something new and shocking.”

“Well, they’ll just have to get used to it. I promised you plenty more of them. Remember?” he asked, pulling her close.

“I haven’t forgotten,” she admitted, and he laughed at the blush that stippled her cheeks. “But they will have to wait. I have to retrieve my bow for the raid. Do you want to fly with me or stay here?”

“I’ll stay.”

She rose up on her tiptoes to kiss his mouth. “I will be right back.”

He nodded and watched her go, distracted by her purposeful stride. And, the long, muscled legs. The skin that looked touched by honey. The swaying hips that —

“Son of Adam!”

“Huh?” He turned guiltily to find a Faedin standing next to him. One that looked to be older than Julius — much older, in fact — with lines of age crisscrossing his face. Yet there was something about his eyes. Some playful twinkle of youth that had yet to be diminished. “Yes?”

“A word, please?” the Faedin asked, stretching his arm out toward a tent at the edge of the village that Cal hadn’t noticed before.

Cal nodded politely. “Of course.” He followed behind the Faedin and ducked inside the opening, squinting in the soft light of a single candle held upright in a brass holder.

“Please, sit.”

Cal sat cross-legged on the floor across from the Faedin.

The man bowed his head formally. “We have not yet met, son of Adam, but I am the Elder of the Faedin. A spiritual guide, if you will.”

“Nice to meet you. Please call me Cal.”

“Very well,” the Elder said with a smile. “As you may already be aware, Cal, the Faedin are very special beings.”

He nodded again, not sure what he was supposed to say.

“But they need your help.” The flickering flame cast strange shadows across the ancient face.

“My help?”

“As the world’s guardians, the Faedin have fulfilled their duty without fail for many, many years. In doing so, they have had to learn to become ruthless to stay alive.” He held up a finger. “But they need to know compassion to die.”

“To die? How can I help with that?”

“You will teach them.”

Cal shook his head adamantly. “I’m afraid you have the wrong person, Elder. The Faedin barely tolerate me as it is, and I doubt they would let me
teach
them anything.”

“You already are, Cal, but you must work faster. Evil stirs.”

The hair on the back of Cal’s neck stood up at the thought of the pit surrounding the Tree That Will Not Die. But Stassi had told him the serpent couldn’t get out without a human. A
pure
human, and according to her, he didn’t fit that bill any more.

“What can I do?”

“Unite the Faedin, Cal. In love and in war.”

C
al arrived at the arena with Stassi, preoccupied with all he heard. He hadn’t said anything to her yet about his strange conversation with the Elder. Why worry her right before this final trial that meant so very much to her? As the self-proclaimed spiritual guide, the Elder surely had the ear of Julius. If there really was something to be concerned about, the chieftain would let the Faedin know.

With that, he put his worries aside and hoisted the small sack he carried up over his shoulder. Stassi eyed his burden suspiciously but didn’t ask.

The harsh pounding of Faedin drums started up, echoing through the night, accompanied by a loud chant. Snarling warriors stomped their feet in time to the beat and slammed fists to bare chests.

“Do they do this for all the raids?” he asked Stassi while directing her toward Abram and Leeah.

“Of course.”

“Nothing like telling the enemy you’re coming,” he muttered.

Confusion flashed in her eyes. “Of course, we would tell them. It is meant to instill fear in their hearts.”

“And give them a chance to hide even more? If they don’t know you’re coming, you can… oh, I don’t know… catch them off guard?”

Gilad appeared out of nowhere from behind them. “
Rupa
thinks he knows more about fighting the Fallen than Faedin warriors.”

The warriors within hearing distance hooted their disapproval.

Cal snorted. “No, I just think you could have the upper hand if you used a little more stealth.”

Gilad grasped Cal’s arm and turned him so that they were facing each other. “Leave the fighting to the others on your team, coward.”

Cal met his gaze. “Don’t worry. I’ll fight when it’s time.”

“You should have accepted my challenge.”

“For what purpose?”

“To have Stassi all to yourself.”

“I already do.”

One of the warriors coughed out a laugh, but the look on Gilad’s face was enough to silence him. Cal’s feet begged him to take a step back but his heart refused, demanding that he hold his ground.

Bannon wedged his large frame in between them. “Cal has a point. Stop the drums!”

Gilad turned from Cal to glare at Bannon, but didn’t say anything further and stalked away.

“Novices!” Bannon roared. “Pick your weapons! For this last trial, you will conduct a raid on the Fallen. In order to achieve warrior status, you must make at least one kill each.”

“Any rules we need to be aware of?” Cal asked.

“Only one. Don’t die.”

Who knew the Faedin had such a sense of humor? Cal thought with a wry twist to his lips.

Stassi strode to a crude stand that held several bows, swords and wicked-looking spears. “Is this all we have?” she asked aloud, running her hand over the lethal metal.

Bannon frowned. “Many of our weapons have come up missing. Julius has ordered a search of the village.”

“How strange,” she murmured.

“But nothing for novices to concern themselves with,” the warrior chided. “Choose a weapon!”

Since Stassi already had her long bow in hand, Cal moved past her to choose one for himself. He picked out a bow and bounced it in his hand to judge its heft and length. Deciding it would do, he hitched it over his shoulder and filled a quiver full of arrows.

Abram and Leeah both chose swords and began to put them through a variety of practice parries and thrusts.

Cal gestured them closer and bent down to one knee to untie the sack he carried.

“What do you have there?” Abram asked, sheathing his sword in a scabbard at his hip.

Cal pulled out a strip of leather four inches wide. “Here. Take this.”

The Faedin took what was offered, examined the dangling straps and then opened his eyes wide in admiration.

“Tie it around your neck. It will be hard for the Fallen to bite through the leather and, if nothing else, might give you a few precious seconds to defend yourself.”

“Where did you get these?” Stassi asked while she tied hers on.