Tags:
Terror,
Science-Fiction,
Romance,
Fantasy,
Horror,
Action,
Zombies,
Young Adult,
teen,
Dystopian,
Deception,
Relationship,
disability,
trust,
blindness,
brutality,
Dangerous Adventure,
Forrest Community,
Lofty Protector,
Cruel Governance,
Barbaric World,
Partnering Ceremony,
Stolen Children,
Treasured Guru,
Sacrifices,
True Leader
Kadee asks. “The Sisters couldn’t have followed them that way without being seen.”
“Well, we had no trouble before the lorinyas arrived,” another man says. “It’s their fault!”
“Enough,” Nerang says. “We will not treat our new friends like criminals; it will not help bring the guru back.”
The shouts die down to grumbling, but the damage is done. I already feel sick about the children. Now I wonder if it could be our fault. My best friend Calli found that feather in the woods around our home; she gave it to me to give to Peree. Did the Sisters somehow follow us? Did we bring this terrible fate on Koolkuna?
People begin to pace as we wait, their feet swishing the grass, back and forth, back and forth. I sit with Arika, Moon, and Yani, gnawing my thumbnail, wracked with worry for Kora, Darel, Thrush, Frost, and the rest of the children. Wracked with guilt that we might be responsible. Wracked with a desire to do something .
“Kadee,” I murmur. “Didn’t the anuna already know about the Fire Sisters if they took Kai when she was young?”
“This is the first I’ve heard of them,” she says. “Kaiya wouldn’t speak of what happened to her. We knew she disappeared from the Myuna, and her father never came back from trying to find her. She was with the runa when she was discovered, and Nerang nursed her back to health. That’s all we know.”
Kadee told me before that Kai was one of the few people to survive living among the sick ones. What did it do to her? And what happened when she was with the Sisters?
I catch the sounds of people moving through the trees toward the clearing, and I jump to my feet. I allow myself a flash of hope, but from their slow steps and the silence of the anuna around me, I can tell they don’t have the children. Desperate for some kind of comfort, I clasp the wooden bird that glides at my throat, the pendant Peree carved for me as a sign of his devotion.
It’s a relief when he finally hugs me to him, smelling of salt and bitter sadness. He takes my hands in his, rubbing gently to warm them. I shouldn’t be this cold. It’s late in the summer, nearly fall, but the temperature is still mild in the afternoon. It’s the shock. The clearing feels weighted down with it.
“We lost them.” Derain’s voice buckles with grief. “They left one woman behind to fend us off with her arrows, and then she slipped away in the shadows of the branches, moving like the wind. We searched, but we couldn’t find them again.”
“Then we have no time to lose,” Nerang says. “A search party will leave as soon as possible. Who will go?”
There are a few declarations from the group. I hear Derain, and a woman’s high voice, like birdsong, that I think belongs to Amarina. I worked with her in the gardens. She sounds as breakable as a thin stalk of the maidengrass that grew around our water hole at home, but Kadee told me she’s a skilled tracker and woodswoman who can coax fire out of little more than a handful of damp kindling.
“My brothers and me are going for sure,” Moray growls. I don’t trust them much, but they’re tough and cunning. We need whoever can help bring Frost and the children home.
“I’ll go.” My voice is strong, decided. I feel better for saying the words.
Peree squeezes my shoulders. “I will, too.”
I’m afraid to enter an unfamiliar forest, chasing after a group of kidnapping warrior women. I’m no fighter.
But I want to go for Kora and her family. They were the first to befriend Peree and me when we washed up in Koolkuna, helpless as babies.
I want to go for Thrush, Moon, and Petrel. I know all too well how it feels to lose a brother.
I want to go for Frost. Pregnant and afraid, she risked her father, Osprey’s, rage to free Eland and me when we were trapped in the Lofty trees.
I want to go for Nerang, who saved our lives, and for the anuna, who took us in, even if some might unfairly blame us for this tragedy now.
And… I
Stephen - Scully 09 Cannell