Surrender (13 page)

14-Fire Festival

There were no more nights like that and the moons came and went quickly until it was Samhain. Kaliel stepped lightly between apple trees in the orchard outside the courtyard. The castle walls were so difficult to get used to, and though six moons had passed, she felt lonely being cooped up within them. The only calming thought was that the kinfolk from Evennses would arrive soon for the Fire Festival. She spent time watching the servants prepare food and sparkling water, but when she tried to help, Melianna forced her out of the servants’ hall and told her to go study. She didn’t like the library much—it was musty and crowded, shelves of books reaching the ceiling and even more stacked on shelves. There was only a window sill to read on, nothing homey like a couch or even a bench. She tried not to go in there.

It was late afternoon, and the clear skies had turned to a pinkish orange. Kaliel smiled as she looked at the canopy and took in the scent of apples mixed with crisp of autumn air.

The trees in the orchard were perfectly aligned with one another. She ran her hand against the trunk of another one and tried to speak to it. The problem was, the trees in Orlondir didn’t speak. The birds chirped and the squirrels chattered, but that didn’t warm her heart as much as the words of the trees. She sighed and sat, resting her head on the trunk of the tree behind her.

“I know you’ll never speak to me, but perhaps I could rest here.”

A humming sound came from behind the tree and Kaliel sat straight and frowned. She had done everything she could to avoid Krishani; how could she have been so foolish as to sit down at the very tree he was at? That was, if it was him, of course. She realized she hadn’t felt his energy there—no—his energy had been segregated to the waterfall, and she hadn’t dared tread that path for moons, no matter how much it pained her to stay away.

“I’ll speak with you, Kaliel,” a voice said. There was a
crunch
like someone was taking a bite out of an apple.

Kaliel would recognize that voice anywhere. “Pux!” She jumped to her feet and dashed around the tree only to find her childhood friend sitting precariously in a pile of pink apples. Some of them looked bruised as though they weren’t really for eating. During Samhain, they always took the nearly rotten apples and made pies and apple sauce. Only Pux would be sitting there munching on them like it was late summer.

He raised his eyebrows. “Aye, would you like one?” He picked up an apple and extended it towards her. Its rosy pinkness made it seem artificial. She shook her head and pushed it away.

“When did you arrive?” She was bewildered but happy, the happiest she’d been since her first night in Orlondir.

Pux chomped on the apple like a horse. “Desaunius is hours away with the other kinfolk,” he said between bites.

Kaliel frowned. “Then how did you—?”

He ruefully smiled, bits of apple stuck between his teeth.

She rolled her eyes. “Do they know your secret yet?”

He stood and dusted himself off. He was quite a bit taller than she remembered, but still a furry animal, even if his hair was combed. “Luenelle found out about a moon ago, and she still thinks I’m invalid.” He looked at the pile of apples and for once when he focused on them he turned them red. He stepped away from the tree and began sauntering through the orchards, Kaliel on his heels.

“You can transport!” She hardly believed it. She adored Luenelle, but this was difficult even for her to digest.

“There’s no point in using fancy terms for it. Grimand has been testing me. Despite Luenelle he believes I have some potential.”

Kaliel beamed. “You do!” The past few moons seemed to fade away when she was with Pux, but she certainly didn’t have romantic feelings for him. Her time with him was a childish escape from the seriousness surrounding her. Her lessons with Atara had proven that she had some skill with meditation, and some with seeing and hearing the voices of the land. None of it was new to her though, she failed at the same things too, like identifying herbs.

She glanced at the sky again and realized it was slightly pinkish. “Did you—?”

He followed her gaze to the sky and shrugged. “Aye.” He leaned against another tree and reached into the branches towards an apple that hadn’t fallen. It was dark red, badly bruised. He pulled it down and began tossing it between his hands. “Evennses hasn’t been the same without you.”

Kaliel turned and kicked the dirt. She had learned so much in the time she had come, and most of it frightened or hurt her. She took a deep breath and sat on the ground next to a tree. She tried to think of a way to describe it, but there were no words. No matter what she said, she knew Pux wouldn’t understand.

He put the apple on the ground and stared at the sky again. “The orchards are pretty,” he said like he was trying to make conversation. “Much better than that waterfall we found. Do you ever go back there?”

The land began to spin. Kaliel thought about the waterfall all the time. She couldn’t go there. She sat in the grass stunned. Her mouth watered and she ripped up a patch of grass by her leg. Pux turned to face her, oblivious to her grief.

“You wouldn’t understand,” she said. Her whole body shook. She had never told Pux about Krishani and she was afraid of his opinion. He was her best friend, and a lot like a brother. She twisted her mouth in contempt as Pux seemed lost for words. She pushed herself up and started off away from him through the rows of apple trees.

“Kaliel!” he called after her. “You make no sense!” After a few long strides he pulled ahead of her. The trees around them were all the same, perfectly-lined rows and she felt like she was lost in a never-ending labyrinth.

She stopped in her tracks and looked at him. “I meant it. You wouldn’t understand.”

Pux shook his head. “Why do you do this to me?”

“Do what?”

“You share everything with Luenelle yet you shut me out from the important things.”

Kaliel felt a pang in her heart. He was right. She turned and stared down the row of trees. She could see where the exit to the orchard was and she could try again to run, but she owed him an explanation at least. She hung her head, her white-slippered toes pointing towards one another. “I never told anyone in Evennses about him, not even Luenelle.”

“Who?” Pux whispered.

Kaliel’s heart beat erratically as she tried to find the words to describe her connection with—“Krishani.” She stole a glance at Pux’s questioning brown eyes and cringed. “I met him that time we found the waterfall.”

His jaw dropped.

Kaliel looked at the exit again and something begged her to run. “He’s here now. We met again when I came to Orlondir.”

Pux had nothing to say.

“We kissed.”

Pux walked away without saying a single word. He didn’t give a huff or a cry or an indication of anything he was feeling. Kaliel desperately tried to keep up with him. She ran along, but no sooner than she started she tripped over her own feet and tumbled on the ground. She rolled onto her side and Pux stopped short, looking back at her.

“Love isn’t something—” Pux began unsuccessfully. He closed the distance between them and assessed the damaged girl. She pushed herself up and avoided eye contact with him. Pux had an uneasy expression on his face. “You were never supposed to grow up.” He stomped away and left her sitting in the grass, a new bruise forming on her knee where a scraggly root had made contact with it.

She watched him go. “I never meant to,” she said even though he couldn’t hear her.

• • •

Nothing happened after that first day. Krishani stood in the east wing balcony watching the ruckus below him, no sign of Kaliel. Even with the kinfolk wearing masks he’d still recognize her. He sighed as the bards played a happy tune, something the complete opposite of how he felt. The countless times he had almost encountered Kaliel … the waterfall.

He knew it was just as special to her as it was to him, but he couldn’t be in the castle knowing she was just a hallway away. He had been drawn to it every night since he intuitively found her room, and the only comfortable place to be other than there was at the waterfall. He tried to create orbs of ice again, but it never worked. He didn’t understand how he felt about her any more than he understood why she wouldn’t talk to him, or even look at him. Her eyes had changed color, something that never happened on Avristar, and it seemed like she was completely oblivious to it. She had no idea just how different she was from everyone else. He wanted to be worried about her, but there was nothing to fear, nothing but marrying the land and leaving Avristar like the others.

Somehow her silence hurt more than all the summers he had spent ignoring girls and sparring with the kinfolk in the games. Even with all the dancing in the Grand Hall, some of them were out there, in the fields to the north, brandishing swords and armor and engaging in playful combat. Just because she wouldn’t talk to him didn’t mean he was going to go back to that.

The Brotherhood was so pompous about their winning streak, and because of the way he felt inside, he was too afraid he’d mess up and let one of them injure him. Losing wasn’t something the Brotherhood easily forgave. He wasn’t even sure they would forgive him for his continuing failure. Lord Istar had tried, but Krishani was no more focused than he had been two summers ago.

He stared at the marble floor and traced the outlines of perfectly adorned tables with little candle centerpieces and arrangements of utensils. There were kinfolk in elaborately decorated masks sitting at each table in the four corners, and in the center, senselessly dancing to the music. He didn’t recognize them, but as his eyes idly traced the intricate patterns of the fountain in the center he caught a flash of Kaliel, a purple mask over her eyes. He scanned the room and there she was, barely in sight. The kinfolk she danced with pirouetted and skipped around her, and soon they were in full view. Krishani focused on her as she twirled and hopped to the joyful music.

She looked happy.

Unexpectedly, she glanced at the balcony and Krishani’s chest clenched.
Did she see me?
The balconies were mostly cast in shadow. He sank towards the hallway wall in embarrassment. He had admired her from a distance for moons and wanted her to stay happy. For her to see him … as he backed up he felt another person near him. He pressed his back to the wall, but it was useless, he couldn’t make himself invisible.

“Krishani!” a voice called from the hallway.

He tried to look into the Grand Hall again but Benir joined him and leaned against the balcony railing, blocking most of his view. Benir wore the familiar cloak which concealed most of his features. The only thing distinct about him was his blue eyes and shaggy blond hair. He had a gold mask in his left hand, looking like he didn’t want to wear it.

“Greetings, Benir,” Krishani said cordially. He bowed his head and tried to peek around him.

Benir raised an eyebrow and shifted to the right. “Greetings. I suppose life in Orlondir is different, nay?”

“Aye,”
And agonizing,
he thought.

“Have you made the seed grow?”

Krishani sucked in a breath. The Brothers never answered a question that wasn’t asked, and the way Benir looked, this was one of a long string of them. “Nay, I haven’t been asked. Are you still being mentored by Sigurd?” He tried to make casual conversation, but he felt the energy from Kaliel drawing him in. Something in her was longing for him, and from the balcony it was all too apparent. He tried to push it away, pass off what he felt as wishful thinking …but she was just too hard to ignore.

“Nay, I’m with Adoron now,” Benir said with a wink.

Krishani felt a pit in his stomach. Benir beamed. Adoron was the most respected elder in Amersil, and to fail him meant certain shame. He regained his thoughts and looked back at Benir and nodded. “Congratulations.”

“Will you come down for the feast?”

More knots. “No, I would rather watch from up here.” Krishani’s stomach growled, giving away his hunger.

“Nay, that won’t do. Come. The Brothers will be thrilled to hear about your adventures.” He pushed off the balcony and moved towards the stairs. He looked back at Krishani expectantly. The boy sighed and trudged along beside him, pushing his black mask over his eyes.

He followed Benir into the Grand Hall. They passed the first few clusters of round tables and Krishani stopped in his tracks. Kaliel was with the kinfolk in the middle of the floor, spinning and giggling. Her laughter wafted through the air and he felt choked by her presence. The anxiety was too much. He turned to leave, but Benir had an arm on him.

“Come, they have a table near the servants’ quarters.” Benir went to lead them through the crowd again, but when he turned around he came face to face with an elven girl in a blue mask, edged with gold. She accidentally bumped into him and sheepishly looked up.

“I’m so sorry. Would you like to dance?” she asked.

Benir put up his hand to refuse and tried to go off in the direction of the Brotherhood. He looked behind him. Krishani still stood there without a word. Benir nodded his head at him, but Krishani refused to move an inch.

“Our friend Kaliel needs a partner. Perhaps you could step in?” the elven girl said. She was older, long brown hair and bright blue eyes. Krishani found her plain and unattractive, but with the mention of Kaliel’s name, he realized the elven girl was from Evennses, probably from Kaliel’s childhood. “Someone must save her from the younglings.” She giggled, glanced in their direction and looked back at Benir, who was still motioning for Krishani to go.

The song ended, the bards stopped playing, and the girl stood there for a moment. Benir shook his head and took towards the Brotherhood, while Krishani looked ahead at the fountain, attempting to find the strength to move. He wanted to leave, but something told him to stay. The elven girl was pulled away by the other kinfolk as the bards struck up a slow tune.

Krishani tried to turn away, escape into the courtyards, but as the dance floor cleared, Kaliel came into view. She was a vision. She wore a deep purple gown that clung to her body and a purple mask edged with silver tear drops. She twirled with the last of the kinfolk and her white hair danced around her. She smiled and laughed, but when she saw him, she stopped, letting her hands drop from those of the kinfolk. She nodded for them to go to the tables and ran her hands down her dress, trying to smooth out imaginary wrinkles. As the song hit a sorrowful lull she stepped towards him.