White (34 page)

They stood in silence.

“Well then!” Thomas clapped his hands together. “The sun is going down, and we would like some meat. We've had nothing but fruit all day. Please tell me you've hunted down some meat, Johan. It's the least a mighty general like yourself could do for a princess.” His eyes twinkled. “You do want meat, don't you, Chelise? You told me how much you love a good steak with your wine. We have wine, Johan?”

“Actually, a simple wheat cake would be fine—”

“Nonsense! Tonight we celebrate. Meat and wine!”

“And what are we celebrating?” she asked. She was growing more comfortable already, Johan thought.

“Your rescue, of course. Johan?”

A shy smile crept across Chelise's mouth.

“We have three rabbits, and our water is as sweet as wine. Should we risk a fire?”

“You can't have a proper celebration without a fire. Of course we risk a fire!”

The night was warm and the moon was full, but Thomas hardly noticed. It could be freezing cold and he wouldn't care. A fire burned in his chest, and with each passing hour he'd embraced its warmth.

So he told himself.

But he was acutely aware of his own growing misgiving at the same time. Just as likely, he hardly noticed the cold night because he was flush with confusion. Where might his odd feelings for Chelise lead them? Seeing his friends in the camp only underscored the peculiarity of his strange romance. He'd boldly called her his delight, of course, but he was feeling like a man with last-minute jitters on his wedding day. What right did he have to make such bold statements so soon and in such contrary circumstances?

The rabbits that Johan had killed earlier filled the camp with a mouth-watering scent. The group made small talk and watched them roast over a spit. There were plenty of issues that could have consumed them in heavy discussion, but Mikil was right: something else was in the air, and it made matters of doctrine and strategy seem insignificant by comparison. There was a romantic tension in the air. The aura of improbable if not forbidden love.

Thomas sat cross-legged close to Chelise, who was seated gracefully on the sand. Mikil leaned back in Jamous's arms to Thomas's right. That left Johan and Suzan, the odd couple out. But it appeared they weren't so odd after all. Whatever feelings they'd hidden before weren't hiding so well tonight. If Thomas wasn't mistaken, the man Suzan had spoken of last night was none other than Johan.

“One leg left,” Johan said, reaching for the spit. “Anyone?”

Mikil tossed a bone into the fire and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “The best rabbit I've had, and I've had a few.”

Johan pulled the leg free. “Suzan?”

Firelight danced in her eyes. She smiled. “No, thank you.”

The way she said it so tenderly—this wasn't like Suzan, Thomas thought. Why did love change people so? Johan seemed momentarily trapped by her voice.

“Then I think I'll have it,” he said, sitting back next to her. He took a bite, but Thomas was sure his mind wasn't on the rabbit.

Chelise watched them, undoubtedly feeling the intoxicant. She stared into the fire, eyes white. “I never realized there was such kindness among the Circle,” she said. “I feel honored to be in your company.”

A piece of wood cracked in the fire.

“And I never would have guessed that the daughter of Qurong could be so . . . gentle or wise,” Mikil said. “The honor is ours.”

Thomas wanted to speak his approval of their acceptance, but he held back.

Chelise lifted her eyes. “How can you love those who hunt you down?”

“We
don't
always,” Mikil said. “Maybe if we did, things would be different.”

Flames licked the night air.

Chelise eased her hood from her head. She was baring herself to them.

“I think your eyes are beautiful,” Suzan said.

Chelise looked away from her. “Thank you.” Thomas saw her swallow. Her eyes were beautiful, but none of them could possibly see her disease in the same light he did. They were seeing her through eyes of love, because love was in the air, but they were also pitying her. Her skin was riddled with scales, and her mind was twisted by deception.

If only he could make everything right. A knot rose in his throat.
You
are beautiful, my love. I would kiss you with a thousand kisses if you let me.

He glanced up and saw Mikil staring at him. She understood. She had to understand!

Mikil shifted her eyes to Chelise. “It must be a wonderful thing to be such a beautiful princess.”

Chelise lowered her head and traced her finger through the sand. Thomas looked away. The sounds of the fire faded.
My love, my dearest
love, I am so sorry. It's not what you think.

“Jamous and I will take a walk,” Mikil said. “All this talk of love can't go unanswered.”

Thomas heard them stand and leave, but he couldn't look up.

“And so will Johan and I,” Suzan said.

They walked into the night.

Chelise continued to trace the sand by her knees, her finger white with morst to cover her shame. The gentle breeze carried the scent of her disease mixed with perfume.

“It's okay—”

“No,” she said. “It's not okay. I can't do this.” She looked into the black night. “I want you to take me back in the morning.”

Her statement took him completely off guard. It was as if she'd flipped a switch that had powered his hopes. She was right. Nothing was right about his juvenile ambition to win her love.

What was he thinking? Thomas suddenly panicked. He did love her, of course. He wasn't a schoolboy tossed about by infatuation. His love had to be real—Michal had essentially said so himself!

But the fact that Chelise was a Scab with no intent to change was real as well. The disparity between these two realities was enough to suddenly and forcefully send Thomas into a tailspin.

“I don't think that's a good idea,” he offered lamely.

“I don't belong here.”

Thomas stood. Awkward. Terrified by confusion. She was right. That was what stuck him more than anything. This woman, whom he was sure he had fallen in love with, did not—could not—belong with him. He had been chasing the fantasies of an adolescent after all.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I'll be right back.”

He headed into the night, unaware of where he was going. He had to think. He wanted to hide; he felt ashamed for leaving her. But it was precisely what she wanted.

Thomas rounded a boulder and headed along white sand, deeper into the canyon.
In the morning I will take her back.
His vision blurred with moisture.
I have no choice. It's what she wants. If she can't recognize a gift
when she sees one, she hardly deserves it, does she? She should be running to
the red pools, but she's talking about going back.

A tear leaked down his cheek.

“Where are you going?”

Thomas spun toward the voice on his left.

Justin!

Could it be? He stepped back, blinking.

Yes, Justin. He wasn't smiling this time, and his jaw was firm.

“Justin?”

Justin glanced back toward the boulders that hid the camp. “You left her.”

“I . . .” Thomas didn't know what to say. Why had he now seen Justin twice in one week? And why was Justin so interested in Chelise?

Justin faced him, green eyes flashing with anger. “How dare you leave her alone! Do you have any idea who she is? I entrusted her to you.”

“She's Chelise, daughter of Qurong. I didn't know that you'd entrusted her to me.”

“She's the one my father prepared for me! You've left my bride to sob in the sand!” Justin took several paces toward the camp, then turned back, head now in his hands.

Thomas wasn't sure what to make of this display.

Justin lowered his hands. “I told you myself, I would show you my heart. I sent you Michal when you began to doubt, and already you're forgetting. Do I need to show myself to you every day?”

Justin pointed toward the camp. “You should be kissing her feet, not running away.”

“I don't understand. She's only one woman—”

“No! She's the one I've chosen to show the Circle my love for them. Through you.”

Thomas sank to his knees, horrified by what he was hearing. “I swear I didn't know. I swear I will love her. Forgive me. Please forgive me. I . . .”

“Please, hurry,” Justin said. The moonlight showed tears in his eyes. “Her heart is breaking. You have to help her understand. Don't think I am the only one who wants her. My enemy will not rest.”

His enemy. Woref? Or Teeleh? Thomas stood clumsily, his feet charged with an urgency to get back to the campfire. “I will! I swear I will.”

Justin just stared at him. “She's waiting,” he finally said.

The look in Justin's eyes as much as adrenaline pushed Thomas into a sprint. He stopped after five paces and spun back. “What . . .”

But Justin was gone.

Tears ran down Thomas's cheeks. It was too much. He couldn't stop the terrible sorrow that crashed over him. He turned and ran down the canyon, around the boulder, and straight for the campfire.

Chelise looked up, startled. But he was beyond trying to bring reason to what was happening between them.

He dropped to his knees beside her. “I'm sorry. Please, forgive me. I had no right to leave you!”

She looked at him without understanding, without a hint of softening. But now as he stared into her white eyes, he saw something new.

He saw Justin's bride. The one Elyon had chosen for Justin.

Grief swallowed Thomas whole and sobs began to wrack his body. He closed his eyes, lifted his chin, and began to weep.

He put his hand on her knee. Chelise didn't move.

He couldn't process his thoughts with any logic, but he knew that he was weeping for her. For the tragedy that had befallen her. For this disease that separated them.

The night seemed to echo with his sobs. He removed his hand from her knee. For every cry, there was another, as if the Roush had joined in his great lament.

He caught his breath and listened. Not the Roush, Chelise. Chelise was crying. She'd drawn her knees to her chest and was sobbing quietly.

All thoughts of his own sorrow vanished. Her whole body shook. She had one arm over her face, but he could see her mouth open, straining with her sobs. He sat frozen. He began to cry softly—the pain of this sight was worse than his earlier sorrow.

“What have I done? You don't understand. I love you!”

“No!” she moaned loudly.

He scrambled to his knees and reached out for her. But he was afraid to touch her.

“I do love you! I didn't mean . . .”

Chelise shoved herself up and glared at him. “You can't love me!” she shouted. “Look at me!” She slapped her face. “Look at my face! You can never love me!”

Thomas grabbed her hand. “You're wrong.” He lifted her hand and kissed it gently.

She was acutely aware of his hand tightly holding hers. His breath washing over her as he declared his insensible love.

The shame of her white flesh had come over her like a slowly moving shadow from the setting sun. She'd been aware of it back in the library, but only as a distant thought. She'd considered it more carefully after hearing Thomas point it out to Suzan last night.

She was diseased. But she told herself that she would rather live diseased than die by drowning.

Then she'd met the albinos and watched them prepare their small feast. Listening to them talk around the campfire, she couldn't shake her desire to be like these people. Life in the castle was like a prison next to the love they shared so easily.

She knew that her skin offended them, no matter what they said. When Suzan had told her that she had beautiful eyes, knowing full well that they believed her eyes were diseased, the last of her self-assurance had fallen to rubble. She realized then that she could never be like these people. Never be like Thomas.