Legacy (The Biodome Chronicles) (4 page)

Breath formed in ghost-like vapors as Oaklee crossed her home’s threshold and closed the door. The gentle bio-breeze made the hood of her cloak ripple across her face, her view of the landscape narrowing and expanding with each flutter.

Dread viciously knotted each nerve and taunted her need for predictability. Secrets proved to have that powerful effect. She still sought emotional relief from the last revelation. How does one ever return to normal after the loss of a parent, let alone both parents? Would Leaf’s secret add to her distress?

The cool air sharpened her mind, and Oaklee began contemplating how Leaf could hold onto a secret for nine years, then trust her with the gravity of what he had seen and experienced. He could have asked anyone, including Coal, who was more like a relation than a dear friend. Oaklee wished to ask her brother why he did not approach The Elements with this secret, but held back as they neared the staircase that would place them within view of anyone.

Barefoot, she and Leaf quickly and lightly descended the wooden staircase from their second-story stone-and-cob apartment home. The Tudor-style building rose further above them with each step toward the biodome floor, and the white walls with timber frames and stone-capped entries and windows glowed in the reflected moonlight. Oaklee was convinced that her heartbeat must surely be loud enough to alert someone in the pre-dawn stillness of their trespass.

Having reached the bottom of the stairs, Leaf darted to a nearby birch tree. He motioned for Oaklee to follow, but she dithered over his request while staring at the white, peeling bark, eerily glowing from the soft illumination of the uppermost biodome panes. Since her sleep was disturbed, her imagination had been visited by visions of the departed, as if her father and mother were guiding their steps. The leaves crunched beneath Oaklee’s bare feet, and she cringed with each step, her resentment building as she approached her brother. She cast a panicked expression toward Leaf and placed flattened hands on her stomach as she breathed heavy from the paranoia of being seen and spooked by the various hauntings.

“Do not fret, Willow,” Leaf said in a quiet voice.

She inclined her head and gave her brother a look of patient perseverance for using her given name. Leaf dragged his fingers through his brown curly hair and closed his eyes while his head fell back a few beats, the tension in his jaw returning.

He straightened and then whispered in a tight voice, “I brought you shoes,” handing over the leather slippers.

She snatched them from his hands and turned her back, willing her mind to relax. Fingers caressed the soft leather made from goat hides, calming her thoughts, and she glanced over her shoulder at Leaf who offered a kind smile of encouragement. With a slow, labored breath, she placed one foot into a shoe and then the other as Leaf did the same, quickly lacing the leather strings. Leaf took her hand when she stood and led her with gentle, swift movements through the brush and deciduous forest, avoiding the main trail.

Morbid curiosity tugged on the sleeves of her mind, and Oaklee shifted her attention to the right. The rich earth of The Rows was freshly turned with compost in preparation for where her father would be laid to rest on the morrow. Tears threatened to form as a fresh pain gripped her heart.

Seeding would begin two days hence for the Third Ceremony following death. She had spent the evening prior with Leaf and Laurel, deciding what would be grown in the three rows that would represent their father’s body, soul and spirit. All three agreed upon purple kale as a choice, their father’s favorite. He loved the vibrant purple and blue colors, a reminder of their mother who was a woman full of life and surprises he often shared. Therefore, it would be sown in the row representing the soul who had finally reunited with his mate. Were her mother’s ashes still a part of the soil?

Consumed by such inconsolable thoughts, Oaklee did not immediately notice that they approached the path leading to the rainforest biome. She tightened her hold on Leaf’s hand and emotionally prepared to leave the main biodome for the ancillary enclosure with vastly different ecological controls. Leaf had conveniently left this portion out of his request, knowing she did not have a fondness for the jungle.

After running through the South Cave, a narrow stone tunnel connecting the domes, Leaf opened a hewn wooden door and pulled Oaklee behind nearby banana plants.
The large leaves dripped with condensation, and Oaklee scrunched up her face as the water hit her forehead. As irritating as the droplets became, she was nonetheless grateful to be sheltered from any eyes that may have spotted their forms creeping along the path
. The temperature and humidity in the tropics biome was oppressive, and Oaklee wished she could remove her cloak to find relief. Remaining concealed was paramount, however, and she willed herself to think of something other than the choking heat and thick moist air.

Leaf gained her attention, then lifted a finger to his lips, moving his head to the left with two sharp nods. With swift movements, he became a shadow among the tropical plants until she could no longer see him. Every muscle stiffened, and her breathing labored against the sweltering air. She had lost him, his movements indiscernible and inaudible. The rainforest was thick and dark, and the lush vegetation appeared black against the filtered moonlight.

Cold slime brushed against her neck followed by a tickling sensation as a tongue flicked the air near her ear. She tried to steady her breath and remain calm, closing her eyes to focus on the surrounding nature rather than the reptile inching its way onto her shoulder. She knew her fear was irrational. There were no poisonous or dangerous snakes in the biodome, but a snake was still a snake. A small cry escaped her lips, and she pressed her fingers against her mouth as a flock of blue-gray tanagers in a nearby tree took flight, their discernable calls squawking in protest. In a moment of panic, she grabbed the snake and threw it into the bushes at her side. Oaklee jumped as the foliage in front of her quivered, and a shadow leapt out, pulling her into an embrace as she tried to step back.

“Are you injured? Experiencing any pain?”

“You left me!” She pounded his chest with her fists. “I had to endure the company of a snake on my neck because of you!”

She shuddered again with the memory. The fury left her limbs, and she dropped her hands as tears finally fell, making her swollen eyes sting in discomfort.

Leaf pulled away gently with relief, and watched as his sister placed shaking fingers over her mouth as sobs broke loose. Guilt pricked at his conscience for requesting her company on this adventure, the regret swelling with the fear of being discovered or that his sister was injured. She was entirely his responsibility now.

In one afternoon, he became her parent as well as her brother; and as the male head of their family, he acted as her social guardian as well. It was not too late to turn around. He could ask Coal, but he knew that Willow was the best recipient of this information. Her agile mind and natural curiosity were a perfect combination to process the numerous unknowns they would encounter. Still, her temperament might be their undoing, especially as she was sleep-deprived and heartbroken. He suffered as well but possessed more self-control and disciplined thought than his sister.

Bringing her along was the right decision. He would rather they face any repercussions together than become separated after losing both parents, particularly in light of their father’s last words. Willow may not feel the same, and would probably be happier without him, but he needed her. It was difficult for him to express this sentiment as their relationship was built on tolerance. Leaf knew she would outright reject his brotherly affection, or his desire to protect her, failing to understand his attempts to keep their family unit intact. She always misunderstood his actions as unfeeling toward her predicament, rather than realizing she defined life with melodrama rather than reality.

Since his sister’s twelfth birthday, Leaf discovered that he was more adept than his father at containing Willow’s atmospheric reactions. Their father was continuously humored by his daughter’s passionate and expressive nature, reminiscent of his late wife. On the contrary, Leaf found it unladylike and an embarrassment to their family. Their mother had passed away with Laurel’s birth, leaving it to the kindness of the village matrons to guide his sister’s steps into womanhood. But it fell to Leaf to re-channel Willow’s emotional neediness as she struggled to understand her role as the woman of the home—and to become a lady of Noble bearing. She resented him for this, and pushed
against his authority as if he were the parent figure rather than her brother.

Did she wonder why their father had to die and not him?

His mood had turned black, and the weight of responsibility strapped to his life increased with each worrisome thought. Leaf needed to remain calm and steady for Willow’s sake. Despite her beliefs, he loved her and cared deeply for her future—even when he felt exasperated by her whirlwind of drama.

“I am glad my company is preferred over a snake,” he said with a lopsided grin.

“It is debatable.” Willow wiped away a tear. “Please do not leave me behind again.”

“I promise, cross my heart and hope to die.” He traced a criss-crossing pattern over his chest.

“Good.”

Leaf pushed aside the offense he felt at her unemotional response. There was no time for taking offense. Their lives were about to change quickly, and all he could do was brace himself and prepare his sisters to do the same. Perhaps leaving the emotions behind with the banana plants, fig trees, and epiphytes was best. Leaf felt buried beneath the remains of their prior life, the ashes coating every part of who he thought he was in this community. It was time to move forward and toward their new future.

“Let us continue, Oaklee.”

The trembling in Willow’s hand increased as Leaf guided her through the tropics of this enclosure. She startled every so often, and he knew she was, in vain, trying not to think of other snakes slithering around in the branches and bushes. Occasionally, a vine would brush against their bare skin, pushing their hoods back and eliciting a whimper from his sister. Warm moist air collected on his face and exposed hair. The droplets slid into his eyes. Leaf wiped away the condensation with his free hand, thankful that their living quarters surrounded the agriculture and temperate forests.

As a small child, his sister found the rainforest a magical land filled with exotic beauty. The stories of her adventures entertained him as he apprenticed with their father to learn the flora and fauna of their enclosed world. She considered various occupations within the community, a requirement of all Noble children. For a short period she explored the possibility of becoming a naturopath or apothecary, working the rainforest to gather medicinals for the clinic. Later that same year she babbled on endlessly about harvesting, curing, and processing the spices for the Great Hall.

The birds, reptiles, amphibians, and insects are necessary for natural pollination, germination, and for pest control. Too many insects can present a problem; too many birds, too. The snakes prey upon the insects and birds; the birds, frogs, and salamanders feast on the insects. If the birds become too populated, the cooks gather the eggs.

Yet his sister was never able to get over the snakes, as much as she tried and as much as she knew their necessity in the ecosystem. A few months later she instead became an apprentice to a village spinner and weaver, learning the ancient craft of fiber arts.

All the while, Leaf was pushed through a gauntlet of education with each of The Elements and the village barrister, a system open to each of the Noble children. Father had touted that Leaf’s education was of utmost importance and his priority above all else in order to become worthy of the title Son of Earth. Hours and days were dedicated to ensure that Leaf was familiar with every aspect and expectation of that defined status. The only other Noble child who endured such a rigorous upbringing was Skylar, Son of Wind, just one year Leaf’s junior. Skylar was his dear friend, and Leaf was happy to spend his education competing against him.

Leaf slowed his pace before a pond covered in water lilies and duck weed. He guided Willow along the perimeter until they reached the carved stone Dragon Bridge. Mist enveloped the bridge, courtesy of a large roaring waterfall. He smiled as Willow tarried with a familiar look of awe. He placed a thankful hand upon the Dragon Bridge, and studied his sister as she found a moment of respite from their troubles.