When a moth loved a bee, p.41
When a Moth loved a Bee, page 41
I flinched.
Solin traced his own brand, his voice heavy. “Fire trapped in a triangle. The flame represents our power and dedication to service. The three sides of the triangle represent our mind, body, and spirit. A promise to all those who look to us for guidance that we are in-tune with all three facets of existence.”
His shoulders suddenly slouched with shame, thick and cloying. “I’m so sorry, Runa. I’m sorry for what I must do and what this means for you—”
“Enough,” the fire hissed. “Awaken and finish the bindings. Do what needs to be done, Fire Reader.”
Solin reached for me. “Runa, before we go, I must tell you—”
“Wake,” the fire smouldered. “Wake and she will know. Not before.”
“Runa, listen to me.” Solin stepped into me, his fingers searching for mine just as the world bled into sickly rivers of fire. “What the flames haven’t told you is the price of becoming its chosen. You are now my kin. You will be given loyalty and respect for the rest of your days. You will be the next bridge of fire and flesh, but in order to have balance within our Quelis-guarded clan, you must—”
“Enough!” Fire gusted and the sky rained with burning droplets of light. The ground melted into giant puddles of ash. The coal-soil turned to magma. And the tree that’d been a charred husk cracked in two, releasing a plume of bees.
A stinging, swarming cloud cocooned us.
Solin ducked against the onslaught.
He cried out as venom pierced our fire-given forms.
The cloud of bees spun, faster and faster.
Wrapping his arms tightly around me, taking no chances that we’d be broken apart this time, he rested his chin on my head and didn’t let go.
The fire-world liquefied into a single giant flame, then snuffed out with the faintest ribbon of smoke.
The bees all stung as one.
Everything went dark.
Chapter Thirty-Two
. Darro .
ZETAS NUDGED MY HAND FOR the hundredth time as the sun slowly sank closer and closer toward the horizon. The late summer heat vanished with the sun, leaving the promise of impending autumn in the air.
Soon, the weather would turn, and the seasons would change, and the world would slowly go to sleep, ready for its deepest dreams while snow and frost killed what needed to be killed, purifying the land, lakes, and mountains to wake fresh and new.
Just like I needed Runa to wake.
My eyes returned to the lupic where Runa was.
The two Nhil guards stationed outside the entrance never stopped watching me, their left hands on spears and their right on their hips where short heavy sticks hung off knotted leather belts, ready to be swung at someone’s skull.
At my skull, if I dared step any closer.
My feet ached, and my back protested from standing for so many hours, but I refused to move. I’d done what Tral, the chief, had requested, and in return, he’d kept his side of the bargain.
It’d been a strained bargain, and neither of us trusted it to last, but he’d assured me Runa would awaken by the time the first star twinkled. He was so confident, he’d arranged a feast for their return and Nhil members milled around the camp, preparing food, roasting meat, and slowly coming alive with eager anticipation.
My stomach snarled with the scents of sustenance and my thirst had gone past painful to excruciating, but I would not leave this spot.
Not until Runa appeared.
All day, I’d stood outside the Fire Reader’s lupic, waiting.
And all day, Nhil men, women, and younglings skirted past Zetas and me as if we were a monster in their midst.
But now, night was falling.
My hand stroked Zetas’s soft shoulder. My mind wasn’t with the wolf. It was in the lupic…watching over Runa, defending her against powers I didn’t understand.
Was the fire hurting her like it hurt me?
How much longer would it make me wait?
Shadows writhed around my legs, ever present, ready to lash out. I didn’t rein them in. I didn’t hide my darkness from the wide-eyed stares around me.
Helplessness infected me as my patience waned.
Another surge of anger and frustration scalded, feeding my temper to the wolf. Zetas huffed, her fur bristling. Pressing her warm bulk against my hip, she offered comfort and restraint.
If it wasn’t for her, I would probably have lost control and hurt someone by now.
After I’d rushed from Leca’s home with a spear in my hand and a horned wolf at my heels, I’d been ready to slaughter anyone who got in my way of Runa.
The sun had blinded me as I’d slammed to a stop and glowered at the multiple dwellings. Some larger than others, some adorned with ropes of handmade decoration with animal bones, beads, and feathers.
Runa had spoken of the Fire Reader as one of the most important members of this clan. Therefore, his lupic had to be one of the best.
With my heart winging and Zetas snarling beside me, I’d dashed past younglings playing in the trodden dirt with different-sized sticks and river pebbles, and ran toward the largest lupic at the head of the camp.
But then the large man who’d led his people across the grass seas to take what was mine appeared. He blocked my path, stepping out of the lupic with his meaty hand wrapped around a carved staff. His body was clean and black hair freshly braided over his shoulders, but his eyes couldn’t hide his weariness.
“I’m relieved to see you survived,” the man said coolly, looking me up and down, his attention lingering on my jaw and temple. His gaze widened when he found no wounds. No swelling or discolouration.
I let him assess me while Zetas bared her teeth. “Take me to her. Now.”
The man shook his head, looking to his left as a tall, strong woman slipped out of the lupic and stood beside him. Crossing her arms over the bison fur wrapped around her chest, she muttered, “Before you do something stupid, allow me to tell you how a fight within our home would go.” Arching her chin at something behind me, her lips thinned with authority. “Look.”
With my hand fisted around the stolen spear, I looked over my shoulder.
I stiffened at the swarm of hunters who’d crowded behind me. Males and females, young and old, all armed with steely determination on their sun-weathered faces.
“Runa is safe. You have our word,” the woman said, wrenching my attention back to her and the silver threads in her black hair. “She walks in the flames. She is chosen and protected, and she’s the only one who can bring our Spirit Master back.” Her hands balled as her tone turned icy. “She cannot be disturbed. The fire will let her go only when she’s ready to be freed. If you try to wake her, you will cause irreparable harm to her and to Solin. If you try to fight us, you might kill some of our family but one of us will kill you in return. If you set your wolf on us, we will put her down with a blade to her belly before she can hurt our younglings.” Her eyes glowed with deathly promise. “Do you understand?”
I looked from the woman to her mate and back again. My jaw clenched. “Just let me see her. That’s all I ask. I need to see for myself that she’s—”
“You can’t,” the chief interrupted, his dark eyes glinting with challenge. “I’ve kept my side of the bargain not to harm you. And I will continue to do so, as long as you don’t give me reason to regret that choice.”
My shadows feathered out, creeping toward every hunter behind me. Power fed into every darkened tendril, full of the same warning the chief had given me.
I hadn’t asked for this.
I hadn’t asked to be taken away from Salak or wake without Runa by my side.
I was surrounded by mortals who blindly worshipped an element that could hurt so easily, so callously—an element that’d tried to kill me for stepping into its embers—and refused to let me near Runa.
“I just want to see her,” I growled. “I need to see her.”
Anger built, growing hotter, churning in my shadows.
“Tral…” the woman muttered under her breath. “Look.” Her eyes locked on my shadows as they thickened and twined, licking around the ankles of every male and female who stood too close, fogging over their weapons, mocking their belief that they could hurt me before I could hurt them.
As my shades touched their skin, I tasted their fear and determination. I felt their loyalty toward their leaders and love toward their clan; their confusion over Kivva’s death and the sharp flavour of their hate. The novelty of sensing who they were at their core made my power quake and quiver, building with strength that robbed me of breath.
I didn’t just touch them.
I touched their spirit.
I stroked each one with a simple shadow.
And all it would take was a choice.
A single decision to swipe them off their feet, snatch their spears, blades, and staffs, and drive a bolt of night through their hearts.
I could sense their blood pumping, their veins flowing with mortal lifeforce.
It would be so easy.
Too easy.
And my mouth watered for the power I suddenly had at my fingertips. At the heady, fatal potential that only seemed to grow stronger every hour.
“Darro.” Tral’s voice ripped me back into the present. My name in his deep baritone made my hands fist.
“I respectfully ask you to stop.” He puffed up his chest, all while keeping his fingers wrapped tight around his staff. “We are not your enemies.”
“Tell that to your people who are watching me as if I’m theirs.”
His nostrils flared with impatience. “When Runa wakes, everything will be explained, and I hope, for your sake, that you accept what must happen. But for now…” Waving his hand, he stepped back inline with his woman. “Be patient like the rest of us. You have my word that by the time the first star appears, she and our Fire Reader will be back with us.”
My stomach churned.
Zetas growled.
The way he spoke made my shadows twist and twine with unease. “Let me see her. You have my word I won’t touch or try to wake her. Just let me be near her. To watch over her while she wakes.”
“I’m sorry, but no one is allowed to see her. Not even me or Tiptu. They must stay alone. It’s an unbreakable rule set by the fire itself.” He sighed with understanding that ultimatums wouldn’t work on me. “When the fire envelops its chosen, their spirits are free from their mortal forms. While they are in the fire, they have no need for those forms, but when it’s time to return, they require a clear path in order to come home. If others surround their spiritless forms, muddying the road back to their mortal flesh, then their spirits might slip into another’s, or worse, snuff out the spirit residing in that form and steal it for themselves.”
I stilled. “Yet another reason not to step into the fire’s control in the first place.”
The woman stepped forward, her face smooth and regal. “I agree with you. When Solin mentioned he wanted to share a trance with Runa, I was terrified.” She pulled her shoulders back, her head turning slightly as a babe’s cry sounded in the lupic. Ignoring her youngling’s summoning, she finished, “But I’m no longer afraid. Unlike the last time Solin attempted a shared trance, Runa has proven able to retain her individual awareness and somehow slipped free of the trance on her own. She found you. She returned to her rightful form and now understands the journey it takes. She must help Solin do the same.”
She stepped closer, resting her hand on my arm even though Zetas snarled.
“Tiptu…” the chief warned. “I suggest you don’t—”
“Accept our welcome, Darro,” Tiptu said. “Don’t give us a reason to hurt you when Runa wants you well. Like my husband said, you are safe here amongst us. Put away your shadows. Don’t go looking for trouble because we will respond in kind. Runa wouldn’t want war or bloodshed, so please…allow our clan the same courtesy of being safe around you and your wolf.”
Dropping her touch, she turned and squeezed Tral’s hand. Whispering something into her mate’s ear, she slipped back into the lupic and the sound of the wailing youngling ceased.
Tral inhaled, his nostrils flaring as his eyes continued to stare at my shadows.
I didn’t call them back, despite Tiptu’s request.
“How are you controlling them?” the chief asked quietly.
I stroked Zetas as she crushed closer. “Do you ask your lungs how they breathe or understand how your heart beats?”
He scowled. “If you must bleed shadows, then do it without scaring my people. And if you cannot wait patiently like the rest of us, then you may stand outside the Fire Reader’s lupic.” He pointed across the clearing toward a modest lupic that held no decoration or status. Two males stood outside the entrance, stiff and unyielding.
“Runa is in there.” He held up his hand as I shifted to go. “You have my permission to wait outside, Darro, but mark my words, step any closer and you will be stopped by a hundred spears. That is a promise.” His chin lowered. “It’s not just Runa you put at risk with your impatience but my kin too.”
With a stern stare, he retreated back into his lupic, and I’d stalked across the camp to take up my place where I hadn’t moved ever since.
My stomach growled, sending a shooting pain through my middle, wrenching me from the past and into the present. Hunger grew ever more painful. Zetas licked her muzzle, no doubt feeling the same discomfort.
Behind me, around the blazing fire, bone and wood platters were being dressed with smoked meats, roasted vegetables, charred roots, and a whole host of other foods I’d never come across.
A weak, achy part of myself wanted to break position and commandeer one of those overladen platters. I would eat my fill and share with Zetas. I would reward her loyalty and connection for coming with me to this mortal den where wolves were not welcome.
My heart pinched with worry for Salak.
Would he care that Zetas had followed me?
Would he expect both of us to go back?
A Nhil girl with long black hair gathered into a simple braid down her back appeared from a lupic farther away. In her arms squirmed a creature I instantly recognised.
My heart clenched. “Natim.”
The name slipped from my lips, making its way to the tiny fawn who wriggled with vicious determination to get free. The girl grunted as his hooves kicked and barely managed to put him down before she dropped him.
Natim shook away her touch, then bounded and frolicked toward me, bleating and attempting a stag’s grunting bay.
Zetas huffed and I swear she rolled her canine eyes as I bent down and scooped up the wriggling, happy fawn. He felt heavier than last time and far more leggy. His growth was happening so quickly. I laughed as he reached up to lick my chin, his tongue smooth and warm. Cupping him around the middle, I looked down at the round handful of his stomach.
Someone fed him…
“Tiptu gave him a cup of milk.” The girl who I’d seen sitting beside Runa the night I’d spied came closer. Her steps were hesitant and eyes wary on the ever-feathering shadows by my feet.
Swallowing hard, she forced a smile. “Once he’d drunk the milk, he still seemed hungry. So we, me and Hyath, cooked some grain, crushed some grass, and mixed it into a warm paste.” She grinned as Natim licked my cheek again, fondness for the fawn glowing despite her guardedness toward me. “He loved it a bit too much. I think we probably overfed him but at least he has a full belly and will rest easy tonight.”
Slowly, I put the fawn back on the ground. He sprang and leaped toward Zetas, rearing up in her face, attempting to lick her snout even as the large wolf raised her horned head to keep her muzzle out of reach.
Undeterred, Natim headbutted her in the knee, pressing himself between her front legs and disappearing under her fluffy belly.
Zetas huffed as if she was well used to annoying wolflings.
“I’m Niya.” The girl smiled carefully. “And you must be the stranger that Girl…I mean, Runa, told me about.”
I studied her.
I committed to memory the darkness of her warm eyes, the glossiness of her black hair, and the richness of her ebony skin.
She was pretty.
She seemed to possess a kind heart.
Yet she wasn’t Runa.
My patience threatened to snap; my teeth clenched ever tighter.
That the fractured light inside me was steadily fading deeper into darkness the longer we were apart.
My eyes returned to the closed lupic.
My hand locked around my stolen spear.
And Zetas nudged Natim to corral him against us, protecting the fawn all while keeping her fierce attention exactly where I kept mine.
Niya glanced at the fawn, understanding that she wouldn’t be getting him back.
“He’s safe,” I grunted. “You may go.”
An awkward moment of silence fell before she sniffed and rubbed her arms. “Okay, I’ll just…leave him with you, then.” Nodding once, she added, “I know you’re worried, but she’ll wake soon. You’ll see. It’s almost dusk and—”
A cat’s cry tore apart her words, sounding distraught and terrified.
The lynx.
Syn.
She’d never cry like that unless…
Runa—
My feet shifted of their own accord, rushing toward the lupic.
The guards slashed their spears together, creating an X, blocking me from getting any closer. “They are waking. Stay back.”
“Move!” I bellowed, my shadows rising up like nightmarish wings behind me.
Tral came running from where he’d been helping with the feast. “Darro…patience.”
I breathed hard, my chest straining and the wolf pelt around my hips stifling. I itched all over as if my shadows were moments away from shredding my mortal flesh.
Another female moan and a man’s grunt.
