Vulture (31 page)

36 - Courtship

The day passed too quickly for Krishani. It was like a string of mundane events flashing before his eyes. They were gone before he could think about them. Kaliel ate, and he watched her. Klavotesi left after speaking with Kaliel about postponing their lessons. She was slightly distant the entire day. When they took a walk through the village she refused to put her hand in his, always checking the expressions on the villager’s faces when they were together. Krishani didn’t care about the villagers or what they thought. He knew well enough what they thought of him—at worst they despised him and at best they were afraid of him.

Pux strayed, passing back and forth on his daily chores, the ones Kaliel forwent because of Krishani. He was almost happy she chose him over the villagers, but the awkwardness hung between them. She didn’t say much all day until she put a hand on her stomach and mentioned something about a feast in the mess hall. His eyes lingered on her hand and memories of the girl the Horseman took with him skated across his thoughts. She said her name, but Krishani was delirious, unsure if he heard it correctly. Khryannalin.

Kaliel stepped ahead of him, leading the way to the mess hall. Krishani crossed the grassy patch and trudged along behind her. Her arms swung, and he kept trying to catch her hand in his, but it was like trying to catch fish in the stream—slippery and difficult. She twirled around when they were almost there and stopped so abruptly he almost crashed into her.

“Sorry,” Krishani muttered.

Kaliel put her hands on his shoulders, and he couldn’t help but stare into her deep green eyes. He hadn’t really noticed all the subtle differences in her face—a scar on her temple, a tiny red spot on the line of her jaw, light freckles dusting her cheekbones with the faintest of beige-tinted splotches. He took a deep breath and ran his hand through her black hair, tucking a piece around her ear. She tilted her head to the ground at the gesture, her eyes cold.

“Stop it. You’re distracting me.” She didn’t sound the way she usually did—coy, playful, teasing. She sounded like she really meant it. It made him want to pull her into his arms and heal whatever wounds inflicted her.

He frowned. “I’m sorry.” He dropped his hand.

Disappointment flickered in her eyes as she smoothed out the shoulders of his tunic. “I wanted to remind you to call me Aulises in front of the villagers.”

All the color drained from his face. Aulises was a name associated with thieves, traitors, harlots. He didn’t want to call Kaliel by a name that meant so many bad things to him. He completely forgot Elwen kept the knowledge of the Flames a secret from the villagers, to save them from potential greed. Kaliel was mostly human, she could blend in. It was like she was becoming one of them.

“Why?” he asked, his eyes pleading. He needed her to take away the constraints and let him be with her the way he wanted to be.

Kaliel pressed her lips together and looked away. “They can’t know who I really am. You know that.”

Krishani almost growled at her. He gripped her by the upper arms and leaned towards her, his face inches away from hers, his eyes locked with hers. “But you’re everything, Kaliel,” he hissed, his voice not rising over a whisper. “You’re …” he faltered, unable to find the words. “You’re enchanting and magical and curious and humble and generous.” He cupped her face with both his hands. She jerked away, his hands falling off her jaw as she wrapped her arms around herself. He couldn’t believe the way she was acting. “You’re amazing, Kaliel,” he said quietly, hoping his voice was low enough for her liking.

She stood there for a moment, chewing her lip, holding her own elbows, and twisting her toe into the ground before he touched her arm and she instinctively reacted to him the way she always did. She folded herself into his embrace, and he pressed her head into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I left you here alone,” he said, trying to guess what was making her so distressed. He hoped she never had to find out what a Ferryman really was. She might have spent the last few moons training with Klavotesi, but she was still as fragile as a bird. He promised to protect her from what was coming. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about the war with the Valtanyana. They could strike at any moment, and everyone was so unprepared for it.

Tears soaked his shirt, but she stopped crying seconds after being in his arms. “It’s not that.” She sniffed, pulling away, giving him a faint smile. He frowned, but she laughed and took his hand. “I’m famished, we should get inside before the food is gone.” She tugged at his hand, leading him the rest of the way through the grassy patch.

Krishani hadn’t been inside before, but it was nothing special—a big wooden box with large square arches on either side. Tables were arranged in rows. A hearth fire was near the left side of the hall, a formation of stones peeking out of the roof. The food was set out on a few tables on either side of the hearth, pressed against the wall. Kaliel made a beeline for them, standing behind others and filling up a plate with what she wanted. Krishani lingered, staring at tables full of villagers, all arranged in families. Some of the young ones fidgeted in their seats, whereas others were engaged in long discussions. Everyone was either eating or talking or getting up to replenish the food on their plates. Kaliel returned and pushed him towards a table in the far corner away from the hearth where Pux and Jack were already stationed. Kaliel glanced around like she was looking for someone else before sitting down beside Pux. Krishani sat across from her with Jack as she set the platter down on the table.

“Hey,” Pux said, nudging her with his shoulder.

She smiled at him and Jack. “Hello,” she said before ripping into the chicken she’d collected. Krishani followed, his stomach gurgling. He hadn’t eaten much all day. If it weren’t for the thoughts circling his mind about the Flames and the Valtanyana, he would have been comfortable. Nobody told Kaliel they were missing. Klavotesi thought it best not to tell her until he returned. Krishani glanced at her as she picked at the chicken bones, attempting to avoid gristle and skin. He almost laughed. This food was much better than what he’d subjected himself to when he was hunting the Horsemen. It wasn’t as good as what was on Avristar, but it was satisfactory. Poorly cooked fish and berries were not delicacies he would recommend to her.

The boy next to him wiped his mouth on a rag and extended a hand awkwardly towards Krishani. “I’m Jack.”

Krishani rubbed his hands on his breeches and took Jack’s hand, nodding at the orange haired boy. “Krishani.”

Jack’s eyes widened and he turned to Pux. “You didn’t tell me the Ferryman returned!” He gasped and shot an accusatory look at Pux. Krishani wondered just how long they had been friends for and if he was friends with Kaliel, too.

Pux looked up from the piece of meat he was gnawing on and nodded, giving Jack a devilish smile. “He’s returned,” he said as though he was telling Jack now. “Hoping you could coax a dance out of him?” Pux raised an eyebrow, and Jack blushed so deeply the tips of his ears turned red. He swatted at Pux playfully and let out a nervous laugh.

“I need to stop practicing with you and learn how to ask a girl to dance,” Jack said, trying to recover.

Kaliel looked away as the musicians began playing a slow warm-up tune. Krishani followed her gaze, unsure what she was thinking and not really following the antics between Pux and Jack. One of the middle-aged women sprang up from her table and grabbed her husband’s hand, pulling him onto the dance floor. They began the dance with a few kicks and methodical hops which were purposefully placed, like they were trying to show the others how the dance was done.

Kaliel sighed, and Krishani turned his gaze back to her. “They always introduce new dances on Luan,” she commented.

“Luan?” Krishani asked.

Kaliel smiled, not even trying to cover up her folly. “We used to call it Orithil.”

Krishani stifled his feelings and turned back to the dancers gathering on the mulched dance floor. He knew what she meant. They had names for each day in Avristar, too, following a seven day pattern, like the lunar cycles. He didn’t expect the humans to follow the same patterns they did, but it was nice knowing they named days.

Kaliel fidgeted a lot. She ate half of what was on the platter, including the green vegetables and the orange ones. Krishani stuffed another green plant into his mouth and chewed loudly. Pux leaned into her. “Do you want to dance?”

Krishani’s heart dropped; he wanted to be the one to ask her. She looked at him, and he shot a look at Pux, who shrunk away and kicked up from the table, banging a hand loudly on it.

“Better yet, I will ask Annah,” he said, winking at Jack.

Jack almost fell off the bench. He scrambled to his feet as Pux bounded away, and then Jack’s hand was on Pux’s arm and his eyes were blazing and Krishani wanted to be somewhere else. Somewhere away from all the awkward and confusing moments Kaliel’s friends were having. He tried to read her face but she just looked at them, something weird in her tone. She spoke to Jack, not to Pux, and Krishani thought that was even more awkward. He’d never seen her talk to the other boys in Avristar—the young kinfolk, yes, and Pux—but when she talked to the others it was usually so she could sneak away and spend more time with him.

“You want to dance with Annah?” she asked, her question directed at Jack.

Jack pulled his tunic taut over his chest, attempting to look bold, softness betraying his expression. “I’d rather dance with someone else, but Father says I need to choose soon.” He stalked off, and Krishani noticed Pux had disappeared. He glanced at the dancers but couldn’t spot him.

“Someone else?”

Kaliel’s expression was unreadable. She waved a hand in the air. “I think he meant Pux.” She rolled her eyes and silence hung between them. “Do you want to dance?”

Krishani stood and glanced at the dance floor. Everyone was in the midst of a crazy jig, switching partners, creating arches with their arms, clapping to the beat, kicking up their slippered feet. He nudged Kaliel, and she moved enough for him to sit beside her. He put a hand over hers on her thigh and a familiar feeling pierced his heart. He wanted and needed to be alone with her. When this was over, he could let out all the emotions he’d been holding in and that would make it all okay between them.

“We should wait for a slower tune,” he said, squeezing her hand.

“Yeah,” she said and looked down. He felt the nervousness. Something was on her mind that didn’t have to do with the dancing or the enemies or anything he was thinking about.

They sat in silence, listening to the music, his hand on hers, his shoulder pressed against hers, until the music stopped. For a few seconds it was nothing but cacophonic noise inside the mess hall. People returned to their seats and some retired for the night, taking their children by their hands and leading them outside into the fading light. A couple passed Kaliel, their scrutinizing gazes falling on both of them. Krishani sighed, knowing the villagers had every right to hold an opinion about them, about what he was doing with Kaliel. Something Elwen said moons ago hit the back of his throat and he swallowed it, forcing the food to stay down.

The music began again after all the youngsters left the hall. Krishani stood and took Kaliel’s hand gently in his. Her eyes found his and even though there was hesitation behind them he ignored it, drawing her to the center of the dance floor and pulling her tight against his chest. They danced in silence, turning to the sorrowful music that rose and fell in lulls, the winding and twisting notes making him long for the one thing he wasn’t allowed to have with her.

Kaliel sunk into his embrace, and he felt her energy pulsating with his. It was like they were two pieces of one whole, the unbelievable strength of what they felt for each other linking them together. No matter what happened she would always be what he wanted. He dropped his lips to her ear.

“This and nothing else?”

She nodded, tilting her head towards him. “This and nothing else.”

He ran a hand along her back in circles and gently pulled away from her, twirling her under his arm, their hands clasped together. Her eyes found his as he crushed her to him. He didn’t care about the villagers watching them; this was their moment.

“If I asked you to do something for me, would you?” he whispered into her hair. She smelled like dandelions and wool at the same time. It wasn’t what he was used to but it was her, the girl he met at the waterfall, the girl he loved since he found an alternative to the nightmares and destruction. She was the girl he tried so hard to hold onto and almost lost entirely. She was the only girl he would ever love and this was the only life he wanted to live with her. He wanted an infinite amount of nights like this, nights that weren’t plagued by worry or fear or the dissonance of keeping their relationship a secret.

“I’d do anything for you Krishani.” Her cheek was pressed against his shoulder, her lips lingering near the nape of his neck. He shivered at her hot breath on his collarbone and traced her back with the edges of his fingers.

“Would you marry me?” His tone was quiet, his lips moving along her hair. He felt her heart race as she pressed her hand into his shoulder. He didn’t let go, turning in another circle to the song, lost in the reverie of being with her. He never wanted times like this to end. Life was almost perfect on Avristar, and it was almost everything he wanted, but this—this was his chance to have what was forbidden.

“Are you really asking?” she said into his collarbone, and he stopped.

He put his hands on her shoulders and stared into her eyes. The music played, others around them danced, but his eyes were only on her. On Avristar it was customary to travel to the top of Mount Tirion with the Lord and Lady to ask for the land’s blessing. Krishani didn’t have to obey the laws of Avristar any longer; he wasn’t a Child of Avristar, and neither was Kaliel, not anymore. He took her trembling hands in his and slowly lowered himself onto one knee.

The villagers stopped. They stopped talking; the bards stopped playing. Krishani cleared his throat, noticing the silence that swept through the hall. He didn’t want to be nervous but he was. She looked equally terrified, and he was sorry he was doing it this way, that he hadn’t asked her without the prying eyes of the villagers on them. He pushed all the thoughts out of his head and concentrated on her face, her soft cheekbones peppered with freckles, her shining green eyes, her curved lips.