Free: Book Four Sneak Peak
Prologue
Caverna 19 years ago
Eleanor walked the sunless halls. She swung her arms with exaggerated movements, fighting off the clammy chill. The hem of her long coat was soiled from only a short walk through town. But the material was meant to stand up against the countless puddles that never dried up. She took a breath, but it huffed back out of her chest awkwardly as she remembered she wasn’t allowed to sing or even hum the simplest of tunes. She cursed the dark, and the cold, and the silence. The reality of what her life had become stung so vividly at times and left her hollow. Her father told her to be brave and keep her hope. She tried her best for him, finding little ways to remain true to herself.
A figure exiting an adjoining tunnel flashed in front of her and dashed behind a corner. Eleanor watched the young man press his back against the wall, catching his breath. The smile traipsing across her face and the tickle of warmth in her chest were fairly new developments that had progressed alarmingly fast in the last several weeks.
He hadn’t seen her, and as he looked the opposite way, Eleanor snuck up to his side.
“Hiding again, are we, Sparrow?” she said near his ear.
He jumped, but catching sight of her, the alarm in his eyes softened with a smile. Sparks danced in her chest. That’s what he was–a spark of light in this unending night. The very prince of the prison. One of them at least–and the wrong one at that, if the king had his say–but a prince of Caverna all the same.
It didn’t make much sense.
Eleanor didn’t really care.
Nnyric wasn’t like his ill-tempered older brother who already acted like a cantankerous, old king. Nnyric had a kindness and tenderness she hadn’t witnessed in anyone else in the Caverna. While his brother, Cyprian’s temper all but threw her out of the Palace, Nnyric’s boyish grin and awkward charm had pulled her in.
“Father requested my presence in a meeting. Fleard only knows what he wants,” Nnyric said, continuing to survey the dark hall. “I’m never any help. He knows Cyprian will inherit. Why can’t he just leave me alone?”
Eleanor’s brows bunched at the pain tearing up his expression. Moving slightly so she stood in front of him, hands at his chest, she fiddled with the hem of his fine coat. “So … what you’re sayin’ is, King Torrance would be furious with me for encouragin’ yer disobedience and occupyin’ yer time?”
Finally she had regained his focus. He tried to hide his amusement, but a twinkle in his eyes spoke volumes. Eleanor’s stomach did a flip.
“Why does it sound like his anger would be a welcome guest?”
She smirked and shrugged, tracing a finger along his jaw.
Voices in the next corridor returned the panic to Nnyric’s eyes. He grabbed her wrists and pushed her slightly away. Holding his breath, he waited for the flickers of light around the bend to dim and the voices to quiet before sighing.
“We have to be more careful.”
“Oh, please … you don’t think your servants are already talking?”
“Servants talking and the king having grounds to believe them are two very different things.”
“Dinnae fash, Sparrow. I’ll take the blame.”
Nnyric folded under her quirked brow, chuckling reluctantly.
“Now, come on. I want to show ya somethin’, and you could use somethin’ to ruffle that perfect hair,” she said, reaching up and mussing his coiffed locks.
He grunted with offense, but as he reached to stop her, she grabbed his sleeves and began pulling him along.
“Eleanor …”
“Close your eyes.”
“What? Where are you taking me?”
“Just close ’em.”
Eleanor watched as he finally obeyed, but not before rolling those dark blue eyes dramatically. She grinned to herself and continued to lead him through the halls.
Arriving at the threshold of the rooms she had been given, she released Nnyric for a moment to light a few lamps.
Nnyric stood stiffly in the doorway, eyes wandering about the space. “I-I really shouldn’t be in your private chambers. It’s not proper.”
Eleanor turned back to him as if noticing the possible impropriety for the first time. “Oh, pshhh! No one will know. And I didn’t tell ya you could open your eyes yet.”
He sighed, lazily slapping a hand over his eyes. “I’ll know …” he muttered.
Eleanor grinned. “Besides, it’s the only place I could hide them safely.” She grabbed his sleeve and pulled him to the back of the room.
“Them?”
“Hush.”
Eleanor removed the sheet from a large crate. The kittens inside mewed their greeting, threatening to ruin the surprise.
“Wha—”
“Okay, open!” Eleanor announced. She beamed, palms up, presenting the surprise.
Nnyric dropped his hand. He blinked stupidly at the little bundles of fur in the crate. “Vermin? Eleanor, what have you done?”
Eleanor frowned, bending as she reached down into the crate. “They’re not vermin. They’re kittens,” she said, plopping the chubbiest one in his long-fingered hands. Striations of orange and white took turns in its coat.
Eleanor pulled out the runt, its brown fur longer and fluffier than most, and let it crawl up to her shoulder as she grabbed another—grey with white paws. She settled on the floor and gestured for Nnyric to do the same. Stiff as stone and still holding the orange kitten awkwardly away from him, he complied, slowly lowering himself till he sat cross-legged in front of her.
“I smuggled a pair in when I came here,” Eleanor explained. “I didn’t know one was fixin’ to have babies.” She held both kittens up to her face, nuzzling their noses with her own.
Nnyric didn’t appear to fully hear. He had locked eyes with his kitten. Hesitantly, as if he didn’t know if he was allowed, he brushed his thumb over its tiny paw. The kitten mewed, a puny, helpless sound.
“Ah! What did I do?”
Eleanor laughed. “He’s just sayin’ hello.”
Incrementally, the tension slipped from his body as he finally set the kitten on his lap. Eleanor smiled, watching him gently help it along as it struggled to navigate with its clumsy little legs.
“Now, does that look like vermin to ya?”
Before he could answer, a cat rubbed against his arm. Nnyric started, but where his hand hovered in shock, the cat nuzzled her head into his palm.
“That’d be Mama. Thought she’d never be quite tame, but she’s mellowed pure lots since she had her litter.”
The cat ran back and forth under his hand, a warm purr stoking in her throat. Nnyric had only begun getting used to petting her when, in a flash, she spun around with a short, ornery vocalization and swatted his hand.
“Ow!” Nnyric sucked on his hand where the claws caught his skin. “Blasted creature!” he muttered while the mother cat wandered off.
Eleanor fought a grin, chuckling. “I think she likes ya a lot.”
“Likes me? She has an interesting way of showing it.” He met the amusement in her eyes and his scowl melted, cheeks flushing.
“Let me see,” Eleanor said, tugging his hand to herself. “Just a wee scratch. Could’ve been much worse.” She pecked the abrasion with a kiss. “See? All better.”
Nnyric moved his hand so he held hers, rubbing his thumb over the tops of her knuckles. “Yes. I suppose I can forgive her.”
Fluttering her eyes with a smirk, she slipped her hand back, returning her attention to the kittens. She pulled her long black locks aside so the kittens wouldn’t be tempted to tangle their claws in them. She had yet to style her free-flowing hair in the fashions customary of Caverna royalty—a small rebellion she took solace in. Sneaking a glance back over at Nnyric, she caught him playing with the orange kitten, even letting it nibble his fingers. And he was smiling, the kind of smile a person doesn’t have the option of showing or not. They simply exist because they’re true.
She wasn’t supposed to feel happiness in this prison. She was supposed to be angry, and seething, and fighting every second for a way out. But the light inside couldn’t be stopped. It bloomed in her chest and tickled her ribs. It pulled at her lips and stung her eyes.
It wasn’t like she wasn’t angry. Never in her life had anger and happiness coexisted so completely. Her hate for her confinement hadn’t ebbed. Her happiness didn’t have anything to do with Caverna, but everything to do with him.
“Not so bad, are they?”
His smile didn’t fade as he glanced at her and then back to the kitten. He shook his head. “No.”
The softness in his eyes was too much. The bold hope she attempted to stifle was tearing its way out, fighting against her better judgment. His previous answers had kept her quiet for a while, but she had to ask again.
“Dinnae ya want to see the world up there? We could go, ya know.”
The light in his eyes faded and she felt her gut twist. “Eleanor …”
“Just you and I,” she added hastily, “escape this eternal night. And then when ya see how beautiful it all is, we can come back. Set everyone free!”
“Eleanor.”
“What?”
Nnyric handed the orange kitten to her and got to his feet.
Gently, Eleanor set all three kittens on the ground and stood, staring at his back. “Tell me even one thing that gives ya pause.”
He turned, eyes slanted, raking in a painful breath. Eleanor’s head dipped to the side and she closed the distance between them.
He looked into her eyes with such deep contemplation. She knew what he was thinking. He was thinking of how blue they were, how they spared not a fraction of an inch for any other color. His gaze wandered to her smooth raven locks, matching his, so opaque with no variation.
“Look at you.” He stroked her hair, running his fingers through the long strands. “You belong here. You … could belong here so easily.”
Eleanor’s eyes flashed with sapphire flames and she jerked back. “I’ll never belong here.” The longer she looked at his sad, lost face, her gaze softened to pity. “An’ neither do you.”
Nnyric looked away. “Where else do I belong …?”
Eleanor stepped closer again so their toes met, slipping a slender hand along his cheek and guiding his face to hers. She searched his deep gaze until she found that hint of light that she always looked for, that spark of hope that he understood what she said to him.
She gave him a gentle but lasting kiss. “With me,” she answered. “And nowhere else. Free, as all sparrows deserve to be.”
Grabbing her hand and holding it to his chest, Nnyric leaned to kiss her again, lips just brushing hers when a foul voice echoing through the tunnels of the Palace pulled them apart.
“Someone’s to blame for this!” were the first clear words they caught. “When I find the idle servant, I’ll deal with them myself! What is that stench?”
Eleanor and Nnyric’s widened eyes mirrored each other’s panic. “The kittens!” they both said, scrambling to locate them.
They clunked heads, diving for the same one.
Nnyric held the sore spot, reaching to steady Eleanor with his other hand. “Are you alright?”
“Fine! Just find the rest!”
They located most easily enough, but the chubby orange one was still missing. All the while the echoes of angry footfalls in the hall grew ever louder. Nnyric checked under the armoire and Eleanor searched the rumples of her bed.
“Out with it you scoundrels! Who’s to blame for this?” If they had their doubts about the voice, it was unmistakable now.
“There!” Nnyric gave a restrained shout, darting across the room to the orange kitten. “Quick. Put them back in the crate.”
“Too late,” Eleanor said, shoving the kittens in her coat. Rushing over to Nnyric she guided him to do the same.
“It’s coming from in here, I swear it!” the incensed voice said, just before the door burst open, banging into the wall from the force.
King Torrence strode into the room, face red and veins bulging. “Ack! What is that stench?”
Eleanor and Nnyric exchanged a quick glance.
“Stench?” Nnyric cocked his head. “Could you be more specific, Father?”
The king squinted, eyes darting over the scene he had found. “What are you doing here?”
“Me?” Nnyric shifted his weight. “Oh, I—”
“There’s a slimy drip in the corner of one of my rooms,” Eleanor said evenly. “Your blasted servants couldn’t be bothered. Nnyric was the only one who would come look.” She continued to hold Torrence’s gaze. “Perhaps that’s what you smell.”
The King’s eyes only narrowed further.
“Yes.” Nnyric could’ve been quicker to nod. “I’ll make sure the servants cease ignoring the issue—”
The not so subtle bulges in their coats began to squirm and cry all at once, as if they simply couldn’t keep still a second longer. Another moment and three furry heads squirmed their way out.
The King jerked back, a finger of accusation flying at the tiny creatures. If possible, his face seemed to grow even redder than before. “Vermin! Vermin! Throw them away before they infect you! Cast them to the streets of Terminal Avenue, with the rest of the castoffs!”
Fire exploded in Eleanor’s veins. “They are no such thing!” She strode a step forward. “You will not treat them cruelly because they are lesser than you.”
“Eleanor.” Nnyric grabbed her shoulder, holding her back.
Once Torrance blinked away his shock, flicking his gaze between the two of them, a smugness crept into his gaze.
“A slimy drip, hmm?”
Eleanor swallowed, stepping back as he advanced.
Silence constricted around them. Torrence let it work for him, his cold stare locking her in place. “It doesn’t surprise me that you would attempt to lie to me, surface wench.” His words were clipped, measured with calculating hatred. “But I will not accept such treason from the prince.” He rotated to Nnyric, the word “treason” laced with betrayal and disappointment.
“This had nothing to do with him,” Eleanor blurted. “It was all m—”
“Silence!”
She bit her tongue and watched Nnyric stare painfully ahead, his hand having long since slipped from her shoulder.
The King reached towards the kittens, hands strangling the air, but recoiled before he was quite close enough to touch them. Eleanor was glad for his violent disgust if only for the fact that she feared what he would do to them otherwise. Torrance turned his eyes on this son yet again, his next words low and dangerous. “You would do well to do as I say. Get rid of the vermin, or by the Void, I—”
“Yes, Father. It will be done immediately.”
Torrance bristled at the interruption, but seemed satisfied enough with the answer. “See that it is. Don’t think I didn’t notice your complete lack of subordination in your absence today. Your carelessness will not go without due punishment.”
Nnyric didn’t try to respond, but even if he had Torrance left no time for it. “And you.” He addressed Eleanor as if she was another one of the cats he despised. “Prince Cyprian invites you to dine with him this evening.”
A cold chuckle escaped her throat before she could stop it.
“I beg your pardon.”
“Oh, it’s just a little surprising”—Nnyric’s eyes flashed with an attempt to warn her, but she couldn’t conceal the indignation—“seeing he can hardly stand the sight of me. And now an invitation? I—”
“Did I say invites you?” The King simpered. “My mistake. This is a demand. Refusal will be met with unforgiving consequences.”
Eleanor’s face sobered. “Very well, your Majesty. If the prince calls …” she trailed off, preferring to leave it implied.
“Yes?” The King waited.
She clenched her teeth. “If the prince calls, I shall be there.”
“Good girl.” He patted her cheek.
Eleanor clenched her fists to keep from biting off his hand.
“Now, be rid of the little monsters.” He looked suspiciously back and forth between her and Nnyric once more. His gaze lingered on his son, where suspicion dissolved to bitter disappointment. Nnyric took it in silence, but Eleanor almost couldn’t stand it. Finally, King Torrance wrinkled his nose. “And rid yourself of the stench while you’re at it. Preferably before you even think of entering my presence again.”
With that, the King spun on his heels, fine robes rustling behind him as he made his dramatic exit.
Nnyric watched him go, remaining motionless even after he was out of sight. Eleanor couldn’t stand how far away he seemed at times. In a matter of moments he’d be there with her and then–gone. Swallowing the sore lump in her throat she reached out, tentatively laying a hand on the forearm supporting the orange kitten and giving a slight squeeze.
“He knows …” The tremor in his voice when he finally spoke unnerved her. “How could I be so stupid to think he wouldn’t see right through me?”
“Hey. Is that such a bad thing?”
At length, he met her gaze, expression relaxing a fraction. “I’m not certain.”
The orange kitten mewed, drawing both their attention back to the little fur balls.
Mischief crept back into Eleanor’s grin. “Keep just one?”
Nnyric sighed, but a hint of a smile betrayed his frustration. Before he could say a word, Eleanor pecked him on the cheek and scampered to return the kittens to their cozy crate.
The streets of Py’aoka lay in the lull of twilight, a secretive hush fairly new to the falling of evening. Kiara paced herself as she made her way through the village. Being spotted wouldn't be ideal, but running could draw even more attention. Nevertheless, she hardly went three seconds without checking over her shoulder or squinting into the distance, trying to detect any sign of movement in the failing light.
So far so good.
She could just make out the gap in the tree line that she aimed for. Drawing in a breath, she started to make a dash for it when a pair of voices stopped her cold. Without looking around Kiara barreled around a thick tree and pressed her back to the bark. Her heart pounded in her ears, and she prayed it wasn’t audible to anyone else.
The voices drew closer, close enough to understand, but Kiara was too concerned with not getting caught to pick up any of their conversation. She shut her eyes and chewed her lip.
“Please, God, just let me get out of here unseen,” she barely whispered.
She waited, the time ticking by with each throbbing beat of her heart, until, finally, the voices moved away. Peeling her sweaty back off the tree trunk, Kiara peered into the street.
Silent as a graveyard. Though that was hardly a comforting thing at all, it was exactly what she preferred right now. Her lungs collapsed with an exhale and her shoulders slumped. She made one more scan of the roads before turning and scampering into the forest.
Safely within the tree line, Kiara braced a hand against a palm tree and used her other to wipe the sweat off her forehead. The forest had fallen silent upon her arrival, but she knew the animals would resume their conversations as soon as they warmed to her. As they did, she dropped her hand from the tree, roving her eyes over the untamed world. Twilight in the forest had become a steadily growing obsession of hers. She longed to be near that wild peace and savage calm, the tranquility it wore as effortlessly as slipping one's arms into a comfortable sweater. The nocturnal voices spoke to her in a language she almost understood. Maybe if she listened long enough, the nightly chorus would have the answers to her ever multiplying questions. For now, just walking among it was enough.
She drew a deep breath as she started deeper into the trees, drinking in the humid scents and everpresent buoyancy of life.
She walked as far as she dared in the deepening blue hues. Nightfall would come to the forest sooner than anywhere else, and though she had grown into a competent navigator, she wasn’t above getting lost. Not to mention–technically she wasn’t supposed to be out here. Nothing was considered safe beyond the village streets right now, even more so than usual. Kiara disregarded the warning bells in her mind, trying her best to ignore the constant company of the insects, swatting them when she couldn’t any longer. She didn’t much care for perimeters, especially those that others set for her.
Stopping to admire the evening, Kiara brushed the stray curls off her face. She had been pulling her wild mane back into a braid more often lately, but a few strands always remained too stubborn to be tamed for long. She watched a few birds settling into roosts, while others—like the spectacled owl, peering at her with its fierce face markings—were only just stretching their wings for a night of hunting.
There seemed to be more creatures awake at night than in the day. Standing there for only a moment, she caught sight of an elusive armadillo shuffling over the forest floor, and spotted a furry kinkajou climbing higher in a tree to forage.
While all the humans slept, the animals ruled the rainforest, and Kiara liked to linger on that thought.
The guttural call of the potoo joined the night chorus, like a cry for help amidst a song that promised nothing was wrong. Kiara’s chest tightened and her gut churned with a conflict of emotions.
She tried not to make a habit out of thinking of Deorc—Loukas as Aaron would still have him called—but the call of the potoo always brought to mind a particular, somewhat sinister individual of the species along with his master. And when she thought of Deorc, she almost always thought of Darcy, and thoughts of Darcy had started to bring a twisting in her gut. At first she had tried to ignore it, but it only got worse. It was a sickeningly clammy sense of guilt. She didn’t want to feel it. It crept up on her and refused to let go. The worst part was she didn’t even know why it was hanging around, or so she told herself.
And it wasn’t just Darcy. She remembered—couldn’t forget the dreams she had about Deorc while staying in Tykaraijre. The dreams of him trapped and abused … terrified.
Dreams are dreams, she would tell herself, but for as long as she could remember, hers had always seemed a little more than just nightly thoughts of the subconscious. None of it made sense—hence her piling questions. She and Hadyn were the ones who had been imprisoned—imprisoned by Deorc, no less. Had the dreams been some backwards vision of their future? Or was there more going on behind Deorc’s clever mask of charming smiles?
With a gasp and a sealing of its lips, the forest hushed once again. Kiara had learned what that meant and it quickened her pulse. She knew she shouldn’t have left the village, not with everything that was happening. A chill brushed her skin and her hairs stood on end just before a hand grabbed her shoulder. She spun around, fists up and ready to fight.
Big brown eyes blinked at her as the man jerked back. Then he grinned one of her favorite grins in the world.
“Oh, Jasper …” She dropped her fists. “It’s just you.” Then she switched to the silent language her friend communicated with, knowing they should make as little noise as possible beyond the safety of the village.
“Surpise me how?” she said with her hands, then gestured to his injured leg.
Jasper looked down and shrugged. Injury couldn’t hamper a mighty Arokno’s skills.
She rolled her eyes, noticing the fresh paint on his hand. “Should not be out here.”
Jasper repeated her signs with even greater emphasis, adding, “Back to village.”
Kiara crossed her arms and planted her feet, not about to go anywhere if he didn’t come with her.
Considering her a long moment in the waning light, Jasper slumped and turned, limping into the brush. Kiara followed.
They entered a small clearing where Jasper had a hasty art setup in place.
“Perfect” she beamed as she signed with big motions. “Secret spot”
Jasper shook his head and wagged a finger, his version of a pointed rebuttal. Kiara raised her brows, blinking, but made no further reply. As fast as his injury would allow, Jasper packed up his stuff in a bundle, grabbed her arm and began tugging her back towards Py’aoka.
“Alright, alright!” she whispered, pulling free and handing him his crutch. “I’ll come with you, just don’t hurt yourself. Here, let me carry that for you.” Kiara grabbed his art supply bundle even as he protested. “Shhh.” She put a finger to her lips, though he hadn’t made a sound, and snatched the bundle.
As they stepped onto the road, Kiara felt both relieved to have made it back to the village safely and anxious to get out of sight. Since she carried his things, she walked with Jasper back to his house, silently cursing the speed at which his limp forced them to travel. Biting her lip she scanned the streets as surreptitiously as she could. It had become difficult to avoid people ever since a section of the east end of the village had been abandoned. The town was significantly condensed.
Turning her head, Kiara jumped slightly to find Jasper fixing her under a concerned gaze. She gave him an innocent smile in return and faced ahead.
At his house, Jasper thanked her and moved to take the bundle back, but Kiara shifted her weight where she stood.
“Can I come in?”
Jasper questioned her with both his eyes and hands.
“Do friends need a reason?” Kiara’s eyes continued to dart up and down the road. “I-I just thought we could chat.”
Jasper narrowed his eyes, following her uneasy gaze. Then as she shifted her expression to pleading, he closed his eyes with an impatience that she knew from experience hardly held any weight. He jerked his head to the door and began hobbling his way up the few steps. Kiara hopped after him, still carrying the art bundle. Jasper took it from her once they were inside and began unpacking things, placing his latest work in progress on the easel in the corner of the room.
Kiara loved Jasper’s house. It had a cozy but airy feel, meagerly furnished. Constant breezes pulled through the many windows like cool breaths through a woodwind. Unique finds he had collected on his many hunts could be found scattered everywhere, and of course the walls were filled with art. Countless more paintings lived in stacks on the floor and tables. Just like her hideaway with all her favorite things and collected treasures, Jasper’s home was like a personal museum. She felt a pang in her heart at the thought. It had been too long since she had a special place of her own. Somewhere she could be at complete peace and hear herself think.
“This is great,” Kiara said as he set up his paints, walking around and admiring the art and trinkets. “Just you and me. We haven’t caught up in a spell …” She continued to babble, when she caught a glimpse of a rather large canvas in the next room. “Oh, is this what you’ve been working on?”
She took one step before Jasper gave a small yell and came clunking over in a ruckus with his crutch. He blocked her way, eyes wide.
“Okay.” She flared her eyes. “Not allowed in that room.”
As the shock of the sprint caught up to him, Jasper’s face twisted with a hint of pain. He tried to hide it, but Kiara always noticed.
She cringed as he turned to shut the door of the off-limits room. “Sorry. How’s your ankle doing?”
Jasper lumbered back around, glancing at her only a moment before heading for his paints. He made a disregarding gesture.
“Of course.” She crossed her arms and smirked. “Still gotta play the tough warrior. You’ve got nothing to prove to me and you know it.” She chuckled. “So … any news today?”
“You should know same as me. Where you been?” He tilted his head cheekily. “Hiding under rocks?”
“Hiding?” She laughed a little too enthusiastically, snorting accidentally. “What on earth would make you say that? Silly …” Her laughter died down in an awkward sigh as his serious gaze never wavered.
As Jasper resumed the painting he had started in the forest, Kiara flopped into a nearby chair, pulling one of her curls straight and twisting it around her fingers. She glanced up as she caught Jasper side-eyeing her occasionally.
“What?”
“You okay?” he questioned with a raise of his brows.
“Hmm?”
Jasper glanced at her again, pausing his brush strokes just a moment.
“I’m fine. What would even make you ask that?”
Jasper recalled to her the day of the celebration before she, Hadyn, and him left on their journey.
“Pfft! This is nothing like that.”
“Into forest sneaking—time wasting with me.”
“Sneaking? Who said anything about sneaking?”
Jasper’s eyelids drooped as he frowned at her.
“Fine.” She waved her palms, fingers splayed. “Maybe I was sneaking. But is it so wrong to want to be alone from time to time?”
“Want to be alone? Or avoiding things?” He leaned towards her slightly with the question.
Now it was Kiara’s turn to frown. “That’s not fair.”
Jasper simply resumed painting.
“And so what if I am? Everything’s been so—well, I don’t really have the words for it.” She sighed. “And I just need some time to think, you know?”
Jasper’s brush slowed. He shifted his body to face her, eyes finding hers a moment after. His expression was the softest it had been that evening. At length, he gave a small nod.
“Thanks, Jasp. I knew you would.”
The soft rasp of Jasper’s paintbrush characterized the quiet. Kiara looked out the nearest window to the quiet streets. A torch waved with the breeze. Her eyes stung but she refused to cry over this. She picked her fingers and chewed her lip.
“Okay you win. I am avoiding people,” she said quietly. “I’m avoiding my mum. I’m avoiding Suze because I know she’ll just try to get me to go see her.”
“How that work?”
Kiara chuckled. “Not very well, as you can imagine. Every morning I get another lecture from her. ‘You cannot hide from your problems forever.’” Kiara botched the Gypsy’s colorful accent.
“Why not see her?” he questioned
“My mother?” Kiara signed. “Thinking about it.” Her eyes wandered as her stomach tightened with a sick ache. “I—I can’t. Not right now.” She was silent for a moment. “Then there’s Bartholomew. I’m avoiding him because—well do I have to say? And I’m avoiding just about everyone else because I can’t endure their questions, I can’t look at them and listen to them ask why it’s not the happy ending they all expected.”
Jasper turned to her, fully setting down his paintbrush this time.
Kiara searched his face, never holding his gaze for more than a second. “What?”
Carefully, as if he didn’t want to, he signed with emphasis, “You expected.”
Kiara stared at his hands. She had half the mind to play dumb, pretend she didn’t understand the signs, but they were too simple. Jasper knew her proficiency level. She crossed her arms. What did he know? Even if he was only trying to help …
She sighed, shoulders slumping with an exhaustion she hadn’t been able to shake since returning. “I should go.”
Jasper tilted his head in regret and started to stand with her.
“No, it’s okay.” She waved her hands out in front of her. “I’m not mad. Well, I’m a little mad.”
He relaxed a touch. “Get rest.” He paused and, with his dark eyes in ernest, signed with all intensity. “Please.”
She pointed right back at him with a tired smile.
At the door she paused. “And I know it’s not finished yet, but as always, the painting’s beautiful.”
Jasper looked from his canvas and back to her. He smiled, signing his thank yous and goodbyes.
​
Kiara plodded back to Suze’s, strolling the wide lane and fighting to keep certain thoughts at bay.
Stopping in the open space between the three buildings nestled there, Kiara glanced at the infirmary building, stomach twisting and chest tightening. Images paraded in her head, white sheets and close walls. She could almost smell the boring sameness, the stuck in place monotony.
Stuck.
Kiara couldn’t bear to see her like that. Not yet.
She turned to head to Suze’s when the door to the infirmary squeaked and then clattered back shut. Her heart leapt. For a moment it was so easy to picture her mother walking out with the sure steps that she used to own, shoulders straight and eyes clear. Was it wishful thinking? Was it memories from her past manifesting to comfort her through her turmoil?
Whatever the case, it wasn’t true. It wasn’t even Eleanor.
Hadyn walked straight for the clothes line where sheets blew subtly in the breeze. Her squirrel monkey, Viv, rode on his shoulder. The soft evening light played gently on his skin. He wore a clean white shirt with the sleeves rolled partially up, exposing his forearms. She couldn’t remember when his clothes first started fitting him better, but he certainly wasn’t the scrawny street rat she met in the Forbiddens.
Her heart went straight back to fluttering, this time for entirely different reasons–reasons she was getting sick of ignoring if she was being completely honest.
It was no surprise he didn’t spot her. Ever since his concussion he was all but blind as soon as the sun set. It worried her at first, but if that was all he sustained from that harrowing endeavor with the beasts of the floodlands, she supposed she should be grateful.
“Hey,” she said as she walked up.
Viv jumped off his shoulder in a burst of screeching.
“Excuse you.” Hadyn looked down at the monkey confused, but Viv just blinked back. “What? Kiara shows up and you can’t be seen with me?”
In response, the monkey clambered up to Kiara’s shoulder.
Hadyn frowned at her and turned away. “You’re a villain,Viv.”
Kiara giggled. “Hey, bud.” She scratched her head. “What you been up to? Keeping Hadyn company?”
“Temporarily,” he grumbled.
Kiara couldn’t hide the smirk pulling at her lips. “Don’t take it so personally,” she said, sneaking up to his side and bumping him deliberately.
He looked down at the place their shoulders had touched, side stepping just slightly. “So, uh”—he blinked, slapping on a grin and busing himself with folding a sheet—“where have you been?”
She shrugged innocently. “Nowhere really. Visited Jasper for a bit.”
He raised an unconvinced brow. “You needed to sneak off to see Jasper? I saw you skulking through town.”
She bit her cheek. “Seeing Jasper might not have been the original plan.”
His eyebrows drooped with a knowing look. Finished with the sheet, he set it down and reached for another. “Kiara, don’t you understand how dangerous it is to just head off alone? Do the killings that have happened mean nothing to you?”
“Of course not! I made sure to stay in the west, away from Tykaraijre.” She swallowed and toed the ground guiltily. “How … how are things?”
Hadyn raised his eyebrows and drew a breath. “As far as I know, not good. It’s strange really.… We sit here, seemingly safe for now. But Tykaraijre isn’t just sitting around. Our scouts just haven’t been able to get close enough to see exactly what’s going on. And though it seems safe, the longer we wait around the worse the situation gets. Sebastien said Aaron plans for another meeting tomorrow.”
Hadyn’s words diminished to background sound as Kiara’s eyes wandered to the infirmary doors. It bothered her that her mother was even staying there. She wasn’t injured or sick. But it was one of the only places with an open bed after people had moved from the east end. And with Eleanor’s distrust of strangers, it wasn’t like she was going to stay in anyone’s house even if they had the room.
“I’m sure Sebastien would make an exception to visiting hours for you.”
Kiara had been vaguely aware of Hadyn stopping mid sentence. His last words pulled her from her fretting.
Kiara’s eyes darted back to him. She smirked and rolled her eyes. But biting her cheek, her expression grew worried again. “How is she?”
“Good,” he was quick to say.
She held his gaze, eyes narrowing just slightly.
“I-I mean I think. You know, it’s hard for me to know. You should really see for yourself.”
Kiara groaned. “Not you too …”
“Kiara, it’s been a week—”
“Exactly. A week. Except I might ask you add the word ‘only.’ We’ve only been back a week and …”
“And?”
“And there’s a lot to think about—to do! This whole village was turned upside down while we were gone.”
“A lot to do,” he repeated thoughtfully. “Sure. Is that why you were nowhere to be found all day?”
She frowned at him, brows scrunched low and shadowing her eyes in the low light.
Hadyn cringed, turning to grab the last sheet. “I’d watch out, Viv. No one’s safe when she makes that face.”
As if she understood, Viv turned and blinked at her inquiringly.
“I’m just saying”—Hadyn dropped the sheet unfolded with the others and walked back to her—“the fate of Py’aoka isn’t your responsibility. I have no idea what I’d do in your shoes, but don’t use the village as an excuse for avoiding”—he jerked his head toward the infirmary—“whatever’s going on between you two.”
A sound of exasperation escaped her and she turned away, crossing her arms.
“Hey.” Hadyn pushed his way back into her sight, placing his hands on her shoulders.
Kiara stiffened at the touch, holding her breath as she waited for what he had to say.
“You love her, right?”
Her eyes darted across his earnest face. “Of course I do.”
His gaze locked hers in place, unwavering. “Then fight for her.”
The silence that worked its way between them only seemed to intensify by the seconds. He was right. And in that moment, with his steady gaze on her and his gentle grip on her shoulders, she felt strong enough for the task. Then again, she also felt dizzy. Where he gripped her shoulders felt unreasonably warm.
He had been frustrating her only a moment ago, he didn’t get to make her melt now.
Before she could stop herself, her eyes flicked down to one of his hands. He let go abruptly, stepping back and clearing his throat. But before he stepped back too far, Viv leapt from Kiara’s shoulder to his head. She turned around and scratched behind her ear. A burst of giggles dispersed the uncomfortable flutterings in Kiara’s chest. Hadyn pulled the little rascal down, shaking his head.
Hummed with lingering laughter, Kiara sucked her lips in, suppressing her smile. “You said something about Aaron arranging another meeting tomorrow?”
“Yeah, but you’ve been putting so much effort in already. You don’t have to—”
“I’ll be there.”
“Kiara, you’ve hardly rested since we’ve been back.”
“I’ll rest when Py’aoka is safe and Caverna is free. Until then, I don’t have time for rest. Hadyn, you’ve been working just as hard as me. Don’t ask me to do what you can’t do yourself.”
He sighed. “I just want you to be careful.”
“Why?” She smirked. “I’ve got you for that. Come on, Viv. It’s bed time.” She gave a sharp whistle and Viv jumped abruptly from Hadyn’s arms to scamper after her as she walked to Suze’s.
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed. And thank you for your patience as I keep working on Book 4! It's been such a wild ride already, and there's so much more to come.
-Ellie