Surrender (4 page)

3-Hard Lessons

The trees whipped by Kaliel as she raced through the forests of Evennses. The path curled around the thick trees, their roots littering the ground like giant unmoving snakes. Her heart thumped fast as she skipped over another root. Then, without warning, her foot snagged and she slammed face first on the ground. She lay there for a moment stunned by the blow. She moved slowly, pushing herself onto her back and staring at the canopy of leaves that blotted out the night sky. She couldn’t see a single star yet. Breathing heavily she sat up, her body aching from the fall; she rubbed her torso with her delicate hands.

“You moved it,” she whispered.

“That I did not, Little Flame. You did not remember where it was.” The tree creaked at her in a deep voice. She was used to the familiar nickname the trees had given her, even if she had no idea what it meant.

“Nay.” She dusted off her ivory dress and smiled at the tall red cedar, placing her hand on its bark. “There’s nothing to light my way.” That was true; it was pitch black under the cover of the forest canopy. The tree remained silent as she continued down the path. Her fingertips brushed along the trunks of the trees. They grew so close together and their trunks were so thick they created what seemed like stone walls. As her fingers brushed along the bark of another, the wind rustled the leaves and she knew the lake was near. She needed the comfort of the waters, the heat inside of her burning to a point it was hard to think about anything but Krishani’s blue and green eyes.

Five moons had passed since the Fire Festival in Orlondir, and her frequent trips to the lake were the only thing that helped her escape her own dreams. These ones were of fire, startling her awake in the middle of the night, indigo-colored flames piercing her memory. They made her feel warm and restless inside.

The trees moved closer together and a dead end blocked her way. She sighed and slunk into the mud, her back against the bark. “I must see them,” she said.

“You can see them in the meadow.” The tree was not comforting.

“Not the stars.”

The tree didn’t speak. It creaked and groaned and revealed a small crevasse between itself and its neighboring tree. Kaliel placed her hand on the tree in thanks, sharing her magic with its roots. As she stepped through the small hole between them a tiny purple flower sprouted from the earth at the tree’s feet, something she was used to.

On the beach, the forest faded, her feet sunk into the sand. She wiggled her toes around the grains and padded towards the water. Her eyes beheld the brilliance of a million stars above her. They painted pretty pictures in the night sky, a slight reddish color streaked along with bright whites and all sorts of hues of blue. A sense of calm overwhelmed her as she moved her focus to the thin line of the horizon. It was a faint gray, the midnight blue of the sky melting with the deep dark purple of the water.

She unbuttoned her dress and left it on the beach. Her feet hit the water, it was warm. She walked a few paces and felt for the drop with her toes. The lake was known for being mysteriously deep. The water reached her waist when her toes curled around the ledge of underwater sand. She glanced back at the shore, her eyes burning with mischief before she dove into the water.

It was cold as she paddled through the murkiness, certain there was nothing to fear. She let her thoughts drift to the waterfall and Orlondir and shivered as the cold intensified.

Something curled itself around her ankle and she tensed. Its webbed hand stretched out on her leg and she heard a
coo
from the merfolk. She tried to relax; these merfolk were wild like the ones in Orlondir, but their home was bigger and deeper. More hands grabbed at her thighs and her forearms and she realized there was a swarm of them. They cooed at her in gentle tones, trying to make her relax, trying to make her trust them. She let her body go limp, knowing that fighting against so many would only force them to drag her deeper. She floated towards the surface and they took turns experimenting with the buoyancy of her body. It was hard to explain the feeling: like flying, but slower. She wasn’t brave like Pux. He climbed trees and jumped out of them and tackled her to the ground all the time. He was mischievous and naïve and she loved him for it. It made all the seriousness of lessons and rules that much easier.

After what seemed like forever they decided to drag her deeper, the surface draining away. The pastels of the stars blurred, fading to black as fear crept into her heart. She gulped as the merfolk pulled and pulled; their webbed hands like shackles on her limbs. It got colder, and it got darker. The air in her lungs bubbled out, making her starved for air. Pressure built up in her elongated ears and they popped. She hadn’t intended to fight them, but with the ache mushrooming across her temples she had no choice but to kick them until their hands left her legs. She peddled upwards, longing for the safety of the shore.

Her head breeched the surface. She gasped, taking in a breath of the mists settling around the lake. She swam to the ledge and placed her foot on it. She stood, water receding to her waist. The wind made her shiver as she walked towards the shore. She smiled to herself feeling tired enough to fall into a deep sleep. It was worth walking the fine line of danger.

“Kaliel,” a woman snapped.

She stopped in her tracks, water circling her ankles. Her stomach clenched as she glanced at the treeline on the edge of the beach. In the moonlight she could only make out the form, but she knew it was her elder. Tension built as she carried her naked body across the grass, and without giving it time to dry, threw on her ivory dress.

“Forbidden means forbidden,” Desaunius said firmly. She turned and slipped her tiny body through the crack provided by the tree. Kaliel followed silently, feeling disappointed at being caught. The woman walked skillfully through the dark, avoiding every root and overgrowth the path provided them. “What fascinates you so?” she asked as they stumbled through the forest.

Kaliel’s insides ached as the effects of the fall earlier took their course. She rubbed her ribs as she contemplated her answer. “Beauty.”

The woman paused for a moment and stepped over the root Kaliel had tripped on earlier that night. “The forests are beautiful.”

“Aye.” However, she was thinking about the scene that stretched out before her on the shore. She was still curious about the merfolk; there was something about them she would never know since her freedom had been compromised. A sticky feeling entered her as she thought of Krishani. How would she distract herself from thinking about him now?

“What is so beautiful about the lake?” the old woman asked.

Kaliel paused as she ran her hand along the trunk of a tree.
Shh,
she thought to herself as though the tree might decide to speak out loud in the presence of her elder. The tree remained still as they passed. “It’s the horizon. The way it meets with the sky is …”

The old woman crossed into the meadow and shuffled through the knee-high grass in the clearing. Kaliel followed, knowing the answer displeased her. They reached the porch at the House of Kin, the wide wooden platform stretched to either side of the house. A rocking chair and various carved wooden toys were strewn across it. Kaliel ascended the stairs as the old woman held the door open for her. The hearth fire was burning; light reflecting off the old woman’s face, revealing her pasty white skin and green eyes, identical features to Kaliel.

“You mustn’t return to the lake,” Desaunius said. “It is forbidden.”

Kaliel hung her head and looked at the winding staircase in the middle of the common room. “Aye.”

“And you will not be tardy for our lesson at dawn.”

Kaliel nodded as she retreated to her room.

• • •

“Kaliel!” Luenelle, the House Master, called.

Kaliel hastily pulled on her dress and slippers. She loathed the thought of seeing her elder disappointed, but she was already late. She wiped her face with her hands and combed her fingers quickly through her long white hair. She took a deep breath and left, descending the staircase that led to the common room. She glanced at the House Master.

“Good morning, Luenelle.” She smiled.

“Desaunius is waiting for you,” Luenelle said.

She nodded as she left the House of Kin, and broke into a run through the meadow. She spotted the thin path at the break of trees that led eastward to her elder’s cottage. The forest was no different than the one leading to the south—tall cedars lined the path, their thick trunks providing an obstacle course for the kinfolk. Kaliel thought about the night before. No doubt she would be lectured about the dangers of the merfolk and the establishment of peace between their world and Avristar.

The light of the sun barely reached the moist soil as she stepped lightly through the shadowy forest, taking care not to arrive covered in mud. The past fifteen summers on Avristar had been filled with awkwardness and peculiarity. She was a Child of Avristar, like Luenelle and the rest of the children living at the House of Kin, which meant she was born of the land
itself
. The only difference was her disposition. She was clumsy where they were precise; she was quiet where they were boisterous; and she was curious where they were cautious. She often felt separated from them despite their attempts to include her.

She saw the cottage through a break in the trees, a bed of flowers stretching out in the meadow that surrounded the small hollowed-out mound. Desaunius preferred to live in the most beautiful place in Evennses.

Kaliel exhaled as she took in the sweet scents in the air. She picked a purple flower from the field and walked towards the door. It was stained cherry red with natural dyes and made of naturally-formed woods. Her eyes traced the deep gouges between the thick branches. She knocked once and waited. There was a shuffle inside followed by footsteps. The door opened and the old woman retreated towards the kitchen.

Kaliel entered the mound and smelled something brewing. She scrunched up her nose and closed the door. To her left was a small common room with logs and a thin slab of flat wood balanced on top of two smaller logs. To the right of the hallway was a closed door that led to her elder’s private quarters. To the back of the cottage was the kitchen.

Kaliel followed the footsteps and found Desaunius bustling around a cauldron that hung over a fire pit in the hollowed-out shell of the wall. She wore a flowing royal blue gown to her ankles, silver embroidery circling her elbow, the sleeves fanning outwards. Kaliel set the flower on the wooden counter to her left. “Good morrow.”

Desaunius looked at her for a moment and then at the brew. She sniffed the bitter aroma and frowned. “It’s missing hawthorn.”

Kaliel sighed as she looked at the wall of herbs and spices extending to the ceiling. Her eyes followed the symbols of their native tongue until she found the one that signified hawthorn. The jar was empty.

“I told you not to be tardy. Hawthorn is best harvested at dawn. Without it this tea will be tart.” Desaunius glared at her.

“I’m sorry.” She wanted to avoid the topic of the lake.

“Never mind it.” Desaunius turned towards the wall, reaching for an herb that was too high.

“Can I help?” Kaliel asked meekly as she crossed the floor. She rose on her tiptoes and grabbed the bottle, handing it to her elder. Desaunius opened it and threw a pinch of green flowery herb into the brew.

“Thank you. I could reach that shelf yesterday,” Desaunius mused. The brew began to bubble and she grabbed a linen cloth and removed the small cauldron from the hook. She placed it on the counter and turned towards the fire and placed a hand over top of it. The fire extinguished itself, smoke rising up to the hole in the ceiling.

“Follow me.” She moved towards a door at the back of the cottage, leading to the most miraculous magical garden in all of Avristar. The trees thinned out to allow for every herb, flower and plant to grow. Kaliel knew it was no stroke of luck; Desaunius was an elder from the First Era, her magic was beyond comprehension. The small old woman treaded along a thin winding path between the plants. Kaliel followed, being careful not to lose her balance and fall on a bed of herbs. Desaunius stopped abruptly and turned to her apprentice.

“What do you recognize?”

Kaliel looked at the ground and saw many different plants growing with one another. There was one with a single white flower, and another with pods that dangled from the leaves. Another had yellowish flowers and there was one underneath a tree to her right that grew a few feet high, with purple flowers that alternated along the bruised stem of the plant. She recognized it almost immediately and smiled to herself. “Nightshade.”

“Aye, that is easily spotted. What about this one?” Desaunius gestured towards the single white flowered plant that grew only a few feet away from the nightshade.

Kaliel thought for a moment and drew a blank. “Saffron?”

Desaunius sighed and took a few steps away from the plant. “Sanguinaria,” she said. “It has only one flower, and one leaflet, and it grows to be a quad tall. We have been over this, Kaliel. You do not retain what I teach.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Had you used this as saffron you could have made yourself very ill.” Desaunius stepped around her and headed back towards the mound.

Kaliel frowned, following her. “How would it make
me
ill?” she asked as she entered the kitchen.

Desaunius moved towards the cauldron and steeped the tea into a clay pitcher. The elder sighed. “I doubt it would make
you
ill. Elvens rarely are. Do you remember anything about how the herb works?” She handed Kaliel a cup of tea.

Kaliel thought for a moment. “It’s an emetic.”

Desaunius raised her eyebrows as she poured another cup and sat beside Kaliel on the log. “Do you know what that word means?”

Kaliel cringed again. “Nay.”

“Let me explain. The Sanguinaria is helpful when one experiences shortness of breath. However, used in excess it will cause vertigo and in severe cases, death. When an overdose has occurred, one can only wait for the emetic effects of the herb to take place.” She paused, looking like she wanted Kaliel to understand. “Emetic means vomiting,” Desaunius finished with a disappointed glare.