The Gatherer (Brilliant Darkness 2.5) (5 page)
Read The Gatherer (Brilliant Darkness 2.5) Online
Authors: A. G. Henley
Tags: #Young Adult, #Romance, #Science Fiction, #Fantasy, #Dystopian, #Teen, #Short Story, #Novella, #Background, #Sisters, #Past Glimpse, #Abduction, #Struggles, #Misguided, #Mountain Compound, #Cloister, #Koolkuna, #Father, #Searching, #Family
"And a strong fighter," says another.
But there is a hesitation in their voices and faces.
"What is it?" I ask.
They exchange glances.
"She is unhappy."
"She does not embrace our ways."
"Give the girl time," Grimma says jovially over her cup at the table next to ours.
The Teachers agree, but a look passes between them again as if they have seen this before and it did not end well.
One day, Adar and I sit in the great hall listening to a disagreement between two of our Sisters. They've had an argument and no longer desire to live together, but neither wants to give up the home they shared.
My sister sits straight in her chair, fingers needled under her chin, lips pursed. If the women are not careful, she will give them hard labor as punishment for their selfishness. I am about to say as much when Brande bursts in, spear in hand.
"A man . . . there is a man at the gates. He demands his daughter back."
My temples pound; my breath quickens.
Adar sits up. "What man? What daughter?"
"I do not know."
Spears in hand, we run down the hill to the gate in the western wall and then up the ladder. We peer into the forest from the top.
He is here. He did not give up.
He stands on the ground below— unkempt, shoulders drooping, one arm held stiffly. But even from a distance I see the determination in his eyes as he stares at us, just as I saw it in his daughter's. Not many would dare to approach the walls of the Cloister, unarmed and alone, demanding the Sisters give his child back.
"Kill him," Golnar says from beside me.
"No," I say sharply. "He is no threat to us."
"How do you know?" She pauses, scrutinizing me. "Has he come for the girl you Gathered? Were you followed, Alev?"
Accusation slicks her voice.
"If I were," I respond coolly, "he would have been here long ago."
The man's black eyes seem to hold mine, as if my Sisters and the walls and the Cloister and nothing else exist except us.
I wish that were true for a moment. He has shown great courage, persistence, and a devotion to his daughter that I did not know a man could possess. I would like to speak to him, to understand him better, but that's impossible.
"If he wants his daughter, he should pick up a weapon and fight." Brande’s mouth curls with disdain.
Niran would have had him killed immediately rather than risk any further trouble. What will Adar do?
She speaks. "If he leaves before morning, we will allow him to go unharmed. If not, we will kill him. Watch him closely, Brande."
Golnar's fist tightens around her spear. A few eyebrows are raised, but we all lower our heads in acknowledgement of her decision.
I release my breath.
My gut churns as we descend the ladder.
I
brought Kaiya here. Her father followed to the doorstep of his death. If he does not leave, his death will be
my
fault.
He's a man; I should not care. Kaiya is a daughter of the Cloister now, not his. But as the thoughts form in my mind, I know with a sudden terrible clarity that they aren't true. Kaiya and her father are a family, as my Sisters and I are. They love each other, as Adar and I do.
I walk slowly up the hill to the remains of my mother's pyre. It is only bits of blackened wood now, but I can still see her body as it caught fire. There, I make my decision.
"I’m going to sleep," I tell Adar after picking at my dinner.
She glances up from her plate, concern in her eyes. We usually spend the evening hours in the great hall with our Sisters, playing games or listening to music or stories.
"Are you ill?"
"No, only tired."
She presses my hand with hers. "Sleep well, then, sister."
I cannot share what I will do. Adar cannot be involved. I only hope she can forgive me if she finds out.
With measured footsteps and a wildly beating heart, I leave the hall and walk toward the children's compound. I know the guards' schedules. I know when they will leave the back wall of the compound unprotected.
Huddled into a gathering of trees, I wait until they disappear around the corner, then I slither up and over the back wall. The scent of the bushes planted around the inside—wintersweet and roses—is intimately familiar. Climbing to the attic is not so easy as it once was, when I was half the height and weight I am now, but there's a reason I was chosen to be a Gatherer. My fingers and toes find purchase where few others could.
I squeeze through the hole below the roof, grateful it is still there, and crawl across the beams to the attic door. Slowly, slowly, I inch it open and lower my head to peer into the gloom of the girls' bedroom. A single candle burns at the far end.
Rows of beds line the space, just as they did when I slept here. It could be Brande, or Adar, or me down there. One of the girls sobs softly into her pillow, her body shaking under the covers
.
Easing myself down, I drop to the stone floor with a gentle thud. I freeze, listening for the Teachers who sleep in the next room or the guard who will be in the anteroom by the main door. There is no sound. Even the crying has stopped.
I walk down the row and search the girls’ faces until I find Kaiya
.
My blade is at my waist, as always, and I consider stinging her. It would be simpler to move through the Cloister if she must obey me, but I want her to make her own choice. The choice I denied her when I took her from her home.
I kneel beside her bed. Only her tear-strewn face is visible above the covers. She looks terrible: thin and sallow, her hair a tangle.
"Kaiya, your father is here, outside the walls. Would you like to return home with him?"
Her watering eyes open wide. "Yes."
"Then come with me, and be silent."
She sits up, slips on her shoes, and tiptoes after me, back along the rows of beds and sleeping girls. I am fortunate the Teachers work them to exhaustion in their training.
Crouching, I put my hands together and boost Kaiya into the attic. I slide a chair under the opening to help myself up, and I leave it there. It must look like Kaiya escaped on her own. If there is suspicion that she had help, someone will think of me. I am willing to take that risk. If I’m to live with myself, I must do this.
We slip outside. I jump to the ground and catch Kaiya, helping her keep her feet. A strenuous scramble later, we lie along the top of the outside wall as I used to when I was her age, watching for my mother. The moon above has not changed in all these years. How am I so different?
The guard walks past us on the ground, but she does not continue around the wall as she should. Instead she comes back our way. I touch Kaiya's arm, willing her to keep still and quiet.
The footsteps slow as they approach. They turn one way, then another, eventually stopping under us. A torch waves around, throwing its light wide. I grit my teeth. Was the ground soft or muddy when I came over the wall? Did I leave footprints in my hurry?
I hold my breath, hoping the rhythmic sounds of the night will cover the frantic pounding of my heart.
The guard moves on around the wall. I close my eyes and thank Mother Asis, then wonder if she would approve of what I am doing.
My run with Kaiya through the Cloister to the western wall, the night sky blackening every minute, convinces me that Mother Asis must have heard my prayer. Guards are everywhere, but between my detailed knowledge of their posts and our own blind luck, we make it.
When the guards on the wall are at the farthest point of their walk, I hurry Kaiya up the ladder. We kneel in shadows at the top, the rough stone digging into our flesh.
"We must jump," I whisper. "There is no other way."
Fear lines the girl’s face as she thinks of the height of the wall, but acceptance hardens in her eyes. I take her hands, lower her as far as I can, and drop her. There's a muffled thump, but she does not cry out.
Good girl
.
I jump myself, clenching my teeth at the bone-jarring landing. My ankles and knees ache as I stumble forward, leading Kaiya swiftly into the forest, then on to where I last saw her father looking up at me.
What if he is no longer here? What if he has gone? My eyes rove up and down the wall, searching.
There—a shadow in the dark. His head is bowed; his hands are curled into fists. His quiet but ferocious dedication to his purpose—to his daughter—moves me again.
"Father," Kaiya cries softly from the cover of the trees.
He stiffens but to his credit only turns and walks toward us. To the guards who must be watching from the wall, he might have given up.
I leave a hand on my knife, but I needn’t have bothered. He takes his daughter in his arms and cradles her to his chest, handling her as if she was something precious, priceless. He smooths her hair and murmurs her name, the accent of their people strong in his voice. I do not know what he says, but his words are gentle and loving. Kaiya weeps.
When he looks to me, I am surprised there's no hatred or judgment on his face. Only gratitude.
"Thank you."
"Go quickly," I say around the wedge in my throat. "Cross the Restless as soon as you can and travel through the forest on that side. They will search for her; you must hurry.”
They run, holding hands tightly. I watch as they weave through the trees, until the night swallows the sight and sound of them.
Grateful Adar is not yet home, I crawl in bed as apprehension claws through me. I did what my heart dictated, but what price will I pay for listening to such a weak, inconstant advisor?
Hours seem to pass. The heat and fumes of the Eternal Flames create a shroud over the Cloister.
Sometime before mid-dark an alarm is raised. The Teachers must have checked on the girls and discovered Kaiya missing.
Sisters run through the compound, pounding on doors and calling, but they do not come to ours. It belongs to Adar—our leader—why would the girl be here? The search goes on through the night.
I lie on my bed until the sun climbs with golden limbs over the eastern wall. Then I move to the window well to watch and to wait.
As she does every morning, the
Sister who minds the wasps makes her ponderous way up the hill to their enclosure to perform her precarious tasks. She must be one of the oldest of us, but still she toils every day for the good of the Cloister. For the good of us all.
I thought to do the same, but now—
Someone raps hard on our door. Enveloped in shadow, she enters without being invited.
Golnar
.
I imagine triumph seething beneath the expressionless mask on her face. My hands refuse to stop trembling. She comes forward and takes one, studying it. My skin no longer bleeds, but fresh cuts and scrapes mar my fingers and palm.
"Did you not hear the alarm?" she asks.
"I was asleep."
"The girl you Gathered escaped last night, and the man is gone from the gate."
She stands too close, her voice as sharp and decided as the point of the knife she now holds. The shadows she brought with her hover like evil spirits.
With one hand, she covers my cheek. With the other, she presses the blade against my neck. Her eyes are chips of granite.
"Who do you look like, Alev? You and Adar? Not Niran."
"Our father, I suppose."
I struggle to strengthen my voice, but as I speak, the blade slices into the skin of my neck. Blood flows to my collarbone. I do my best to accept the searing pain.
"We do not have fathers. Our daughters do not have fathers. We have no need of them. Niran was weak when she mixed with a man and conceived of you." She pauses. "You should never have been born."
My hands tingle. I knew there were some who disapproved of my mother's mysterious pregnancy, but I did not know Golnar was one of them. Or how strongly she felt.
The blade burns into my skin. "Being born is not a crime."
"No, but betraying your Sisters is." Her gaze flicks around my face. "We need to be able to trust one another, Alev, now more than ever with a new leader. Can we trust you? Can
Adar
trust you?"
Anger throbs in my temples. Calling on every shred of courage I possess, I push my neck into the knife and meet the older woman's murky eyes. It's excruciating, but I do not retreat.
"She can. I swear it."
Time stretches out, spooling away from us.
My fate gathers at the edge of Golnar's blade.
When she takes the weapon away, my heart explodes with relief.
"I have told Adar my suspicions. I cannot prove them, or you'd be bleeding into your grave right now."
I nod.
"She will forgive you, but
I'll
be watching. I know who you are now, Alev."
Death, grinning pointedly at me, slips out the door behind her.
My eyes close, and I put a hand to the wall, steadying myself.
I was prepared to die so Kaiya and her father might live, but
I must never fail my sister again.
With my blood, I have sworn my allegiance to Adar and to the Cloister. No one can come between my people and me again.
I am a Fire Sister.
Read THE FIRE SISTERS,
the thrilling conclusion to the bestselling Brilliant Darkness series!
CHAPTER ONE
Nerang chats with others in the first language of the
anuna,
the people of Koolkuna. I have no idea what the talented healer is saying, but it doesn’t matter. The warm tone of his voice tells me he’s happy to be part of our celebration. We’re only waiting for our friend, Arika, and her children, Kora and Darel, to arrive. I won’t start without them.
I can’t see the group gathering nearby—Groundlings, Lofties, and the
anuna
—but I still hear echoes of their well wishes as we entered the clearing to stand beside the water hole. I smell the musky scent of the heather burning over greenheart wood in the fire, a combination I was told would encourage love and longevity for our union. I feel Peree’s warm, bow-callused hand clasping mine now. And I taste his last kiss on my lips, a sweet drizzle of honeysuckle.
Everything is perfect—a validation of all we worked so hard to accomplish, a small recompense for what we lost as we led our people to safety in Koolkuna.
My thoughts are splintered by the sudden noise of a woman’s shrill screams and shouts, coming from the path to the village.
“Help! Help me!”
Peree pulls me close, and fear punctures my heart.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“I don’t know.”
The woman reaches the clearing, her feet slapping unevenly against the dry ground, as if she stumbles as she runs.
“It’s Arika. Her head is bleeding.” Peree’s normally musical voice is low and rough.
What?
Is she all right? Did she fall and hit her head or something?
Nerang ministers to her, speaking softly. I tug Peree forward to hear what they’re saying.
“Tell us what happened,” the healer asks.
“They took the
guru
,” Arika cries. “The children are gone!”
Gone?
My body tingles.
“What do you mean?” a man says.
“Took them?” a woman asks, her voice rising. “Which of the
guru
?”
“Let her speak.” Nerang’s firm words are lined with distress.
“Frost and I… led a small group of
guru
into the forest to gather wildflowers for the ceremony.” Arika chokes on her tears. “We were on our way here, when we… we were attacked. They were all taken!”
“Thrush was with Frost!” Moon gasps.
“He was there. Kora and Darel were with us,” Arika says with fresh sobs, “and four others. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. They are gone.”
Horror rushes through me. “I don’t understand… who took them?”
“What did they look like?”
“Which way did they go?”
People shout over each other, their voices loud, harsh, and frightened. I can’t tell anyone apart. The clamor hurts my ears and makes me dizzy. Peree puts a steadying arm around me; I clutch his waist to ground myself.
“Quiet!” Nerang says. “
Who
took the
guru
, Arika?”
“I don’t know.” She pants. “They came suddenly… out of the trees. They wore strange clothes, and their hair was painted… they carried weapons, and… and they were all women. I tried to keep hold of Kora and Darel, but one of the women put a blade to my throat. She struck me with the butt and took them away.” Her voice breaks.
Peree hisses out a breath. I feel faint.
“There were no men?” Kaiya asks sharply.
“No, no. Only those terrible women.”
“Were there colorful feathers at their waists, like the one in Myall’s hair?” Kai says.
“Yes!”
Peree’s feather?
“We must follow them,” a man yells. Others shout, agreeing.
“It won’t do any good.” Kai sounds shaken. “Those feathers are their mark.”
“Whose mark?”
“The women who took me away when I was a child. The Fire Sisters.”
Arika moans. I put a hand on my friend’s shoulder.
“
Why
did they take the children, Kai?” Peree asks.
“The Sisters live without men.” Her voice is bleak. “They gather girls from other groups to survive.”
We erupt with fresh cries.
“We will catch them!” Derain, Arika’s partner, says. “Can you lead us to where they attacked you?”
She says she can. Running feet pound out of the clearing.
“Kadee’s here,” Peree says to me. He places my hands in a smaller, softer pair, and his lips brush the top of my head. “I’m going ahead.”
“Peree—!” I don’t have time to tell him to be careful. He’s gone with the others.
Kadee, my natural mother, holds my arm as we run after the group, following footfalls and the sounds of parents calling their children’s names. We reach the path to the village, but rather than turning that way, we enter the forest ahead, pushing through the grasping arms of trees and bushes.
We stop in a clearing—the light brightens and I’m no longer surrounded by vegetation. Frightened voices flutter around me, birds flushed from their nests by a predator.
“Do you see anything?” I ask Kadee.
“Only the trees and our own people.” Her hand is icy on my arm.
A poisonous brew of dread and helplessness oozes through my body. I close my eyes and listen for any sound of the children.
“Which way did they go?” someone yells.
“Here,” a woman shouts in a quivery voice. “The bushes are crushed!”
Kadee pulls me in that direction. We crash into the woods again as people fall in behind us. Branches and brambles claw at me again, drawing stinging trails along my face and arms.
We move this way and that, following those in front. I’m jostled and jerked, but I can only think of Kora and the other children.
A battle cry pierces the air over our heads as if the trees themselves scream out. The voices are feminine and fierce. They aren’t the wails of the sick ones, the Scourge, but the same prickling feeling crawls along my scalp.
Those ahead of us shout warnings as what sounds like spears whistle past, hammering into the trunks of trees all around us. I freeze, my heart rocketing in my chest, waiting for the agonized screams of the injured.
“Back! Go back!” a man yells.
We all turn and run the way we came. People push and shove into Kadee and me, and in the confusion, I lose her and stumble. Another, larger hand grabs my arm, righting me.
“I’ve got you.”
Peree
. I gasp, relieved to hear his voice. He puts my hand back in Kadee’s and positions himself behind us, probably to shield us, as we charge away with the rest. When we reach the clearing again, people begin to shout.
“Does anyone have a weapon?” Peree yells. “A bow? A knife? Anything?”
“No!” a man says. “Why would we be armed at a partnering ceremony?”
Why indeed? Few dangers lurk in Koolkuna. Because of the Myuna, the village’s pure, underground water source that supplies its water hole, we aren’t even exposed to the poison that creates the monstrous illusion of the Scourge.
“The armory!” A group of people sprint noisily from the clearing, heading toward the village to collect weapons.
“There were knives for the feast back at the Myuna. I’ll get them.” It’s Bear, my old Groundling friend. His voice is grim.
Peree touches my hand. “I’m going for my bow.” He tears away again.
Nerang’s voice rings out. He sounds as upset as I’ve ever heard him. “Amarina, Derain, Konol, track the
guru
. Stay far enough behind to be safe.”
Branches crack and leaves rip as bodies push into the trees, moving slower—more cautiously—this time.
“The rest of you remain here,” Nerang says. “Do not approach these intruders again. Their spears were warnings only. If they had wanted to kill us, they could have.”
“I am not standing around while my daughter is taken from under my nose by
lorinyas
!” a man shouts.
The forest swallows the sound of his running footsteps a moment later.
Lorinyas.
Strangers. That’s what
we
were to the
anuna
until recently
.
“We cannot wait, Nerang,” a woman says. “We should go after the
guru
!”
“Of course we will. But we must have weapons to defend ourselves. You cannot help your
guru
if you are dead. Now, which of the children are missing besides Kora and Darel?”
Arika whimpers at the sound of her children’s names. My heart contracts with fear for Kora, my first companion in Koolkuna. I can feel her small hand as she led me around the village, gossiping about her people through the observations of her doll, Bega. Darel, her younger brother, is only four years old. They
can’t
be gone.
“My brother, Thrush.” Moon, the partner of Peree’s cousin, Petrel, sounds destroyed. Her newborn, Yani, howls. The baby’s name means
hope
in the
anuna’s
language. Hope feels far away now.
Exuberant and pesky Thrush reminded me so much of my own brother, Eland, when he was younger. Pain rips through me as I think of them, our brothers who only met once. One is dead. One is now missing.
The parents and guardians of the children say the names of their beloved. Seven in all were taken, five girls and two boys.
“And Frost.” I recognize Conda’s voice, one of the younger brothers of my Groundling tormentor—and protector—Moray. “But I don’t understand why they took her and not Arika.”
“Frost is still young enough to be trained in the Sisters’ ways,” Kai says, “and she’s pregnant. Her baby is even more valuable to them. If she has a girl, they can raise her as their own.”
“
My
baby?” Moray says. “I don’t think so.”
I wish I could say he was worried for Frost, too, the Lofty girl of about fifteen or sixteen who somehow got mixed up with him back home, but he’s only ever been concerned about their child.
His
baby. While Moray’s not my favorite, he doesn’t deserve this. No one does.
I hear Bear passing blades around. Others clatter into the clearing soon after, hopefully with more weapons. Peree and Petrel’s voices are among them.
“We’re going after them,” Peree says, touching my arm.
“I am, too,” Moray says.
Which means his brothers, Cuda and Conda, will follow. They seem to follow him everywhere. Right now, I’m glad. The group jogs off in the direction the Sisters took the children, and I send a silent prayer of protection after them.
Kadee and I stand with the rest of the villagers. Some cry softly, others wail. Still others argue, their voices crashing together like the waterfall meeting the Myuna. I find Moon and put my arms around her and Yani as they both sob. What else can I do? I’m desperate to look for Kora and the missing children, but I can’t move as fast as Peree and the others. I’d only hold them back. I don’t know the first tree or bush in this forest.
Kora, where are you?
“These Fire Sisters,” someone asks, “where do they come from?”
“Their home is called the Cloister.” Kai’s voice is hard, her words clipped.
“Where is it?” I ask.
“Many days’ walk through dangerous territory.” Her voice grows even colder and sharper when she speaks to me. “Along the River Restless.”
River? A stream runs out of Koolkuna from the Myuna, but I had no idea there was a river somewhere.
“We must find them before they get that far!” someone says.
“You won’t catch the Sisters if they don’t want to be caught.” Kai’s voice dips. Is she upset about the children, or are her memories painful? Both? It’s hard to tell with her. “And you’ll have no chance of getting them back if they reach the Cloister. Flames that never die protect the Sisters’ compound. High walls are guarded day and night. No one gets in or out unless they allow it.” She pauses. “They… they aren’t like the
anuna
. You can’t reason with them or talk them around. They’ll kill you if you try to take the
guru
back.”
I bite my lip, drawing blood, as people cry out.
“What of the boys?” Moon’s voice quavers. “You said they gather girls and have no men. What do they do with the boys they take?”
I hold her closer and rest a hand on Yani’s plump, velvety thigh, reassuring myself she’s safe. My pulse slows a bit in response.
“I don’t know. I didn’t see any boys in the Cloister,” Kai says. “Only girls and women.”
If Eland had survived, if he’d come to Koolkuna with us, he might have been taken with Thrush. I would have lost him anyway. Our world is so precarious. Why do I try to pretend otherwise? I sway on the edge of the dark well of guilt and grief I’ve often fallen into since my brother’s death.
People begin to shout at Nerang and at each other. My eyes fill with tears. Although we’ve only been in Koolkuna a short time, I’ve come to care deeply for the community—the people who live here and the place Peree and I hoped to call home.
“What can we do, Nerang?” The woman’s voice thrums with sorrow.
“Calm yourselves. Perhaps the others are already bringing the
guru
back to us. In the meantime, look around. We might find something of importance.”
Nerang’s probably buying time, giving us something to do, but standing here talking about the awfulness of the Sisters isn’t helping anyone. With a gentle squeeze, I let go of Moon. I may not be able to
look
for clues, but that doesn’t mean I can’t find any.
Dropping to one knee, I feel the ground, trampled under our feet. All I feel are the crushed remains of grass and flowers, their petals still soft but already wilting. If there’s anything else down here, it’s been smashed flat. I listen to the agitated voices of the
anuna
as they search… the breeze rattling leaves in the branches of trees around us… the song of one intrepid bird not driven off by the commotion. Breathing slow and deep, I sift the air as I might a handful of grain.
And there
is
something else.
One scent stands out. It’s like the smoke from a fire, only more abrasive, as if it were created by something other than burning wood. I realize it’s been needling my nose and throat; I just wasn’t paying attention.