Eyes of the Woods (11 page)

“How many have you killed?”

His question made me pause. “Just the one.”

“Precisely. We watch you more closely than your father. If I thought they wouldn’t accept you, I would have let you expire.”

“Accept me? They know I’m here? That I’ve been changed?”

“All of them. Not all of them are happy about it, but they’ll come around.”

“Like the two who killed me?”

Daniel frowned. “It’s complicated with them. They’ll come around too.”

My fingers found their way to my temple. “How did they do it? Move Hopper’s Tree?”

“Can you not feel the strength inside of you?”

I thought about that for a moment. “The Nightwalkers used to cut our ropes. They didn’t want us crossing the ravine to the other territories. They’ve left the tree alone. The only explanation is that they couldn’t move it.”

Daniel looked to the leather shoes on his feet. They were nearly new, and store bought. I scowled at him, deciding he had taken them from a recent victim. “Immortals didn’t cut the rope bridges, Eris. The Priory did.”

I lifted my chin. “That’s a lie.”

Daniel wasn’t angry at my words. He almost looked as if he expected them.

I looked to the forest floor. It would take me hours to make that climb. Even as a nightwalker. “How do I get down?”

“Are you in a hurry?”

I thought about that for a moment. “I suppose not.”

“You should rest. You’ve been through a lot.”

I looked at my ragged dress. “I need new clothes.”

Daniel nodded toward a handmade chair. “I brought you some. They’re not as fancy as the dress, but they’re clean.”

“Thank you,” I said, walking over to the pants and shirt that were hung over the back of the chair. They were hand-made. “These didn’t belong to an Onan?” I asked.

Daniel shook his head, and then moved toward me. I reacted, flipping around and leaning down in a defensive crouch.

He held up his hands. “My apologies. I was just grabbing my notebook.”

A notepad and pencil were lying on a small table by the chair.

“Oh,” I said, sidestepping out of his way. I stayed on guard while he reached over, picked up the pen and pad, and then walked to the doorway.

“When you’re ready for me to show you around, I’ll be on the ground. There are falls not far from here. You can freshen up.”

With that, he took a step, and then he was gone. I rushed over to the doorway to see Daniel standing on the forest floor like he hadn’t just jumped fifteen or so storeys, chatting with an older man. They looked up at me, and I backed away.

I changed, wondering from where Daniel had procured these clothes. I always assumed nightwalkers wore the clothes they were wearing when they had turned. My skin was still marked with the dried mud and blood, so I stepped out from the doorway to a branch and held on. Balance was effortless, and a sudden wash of relief came over me. I felt like myself, but better. Quicker, stronger, and more alert. There was no uncontrollable urge to feed on human blood, no change other than my heightened senses and abilities. If Father only knew this, maybe I could go home.

“Jump!” Daniel called to me. His voice didn’t echo. He hadn’t yelled, only spoken softly. But I could hear it, along with everything else within a mile that made noise. But it was all crisp and spread out, like the space in my mind. I could retain it all without being overwhelmed by it.

More nightwalkers gathered at the bottom, watching…waiting. I gripped the branch tighter. Daniel waved the onlookers away, and they eventually dispersed.

“Jump,” I said, dubious.

“Concentrate on the spot you wish to land, and jump.”

I shook my head, and Daniel chuckled. He leaped to a branch that was a quarter of the way up the tree, and then alternated between climbing and leaping from branch to branch, until he was at my side.

“Watch me,” he said simply. “Do as I do.” He pointed to the ground. “Do you see that stone, there?”

I nodded, picking it out easily.

“I’m going to jump next to it.” He bent his knees, making a point to show me his position, and then he was gone, standing on the spot he’d pointed out a second later.

I took a deep breath, although I didn’t need it.

“Pick out a spot,” I said to myself. “And jump.” My feet left the tree branch, and I fell, but it was controlled, purposeful. I landed next to Daniel, and he smiled.

“See? Easy.”

I looked up at the nest, and then back to Daniel, unable to hold back a grin. “It was, actually.”

“You’ll find many things are easy for you now. The falls are just there,” he said, pointing down a path.

I followed him, already hearing the rush of water over a cliff. It was so beautiful that I gasped. The sun filtered down through the canopy of the treetops, and brightly colored birds roosted and swooped through, unaffected by the nightwalkers below. There were others bathing at the bottom of the falls, both women and men, unclothed. “They’ll give you privacy,” Daniel said. “They know you’re not accustomed to such things.”

We walked to the river’s edge. The nightwalkers left the water, barely acknowledging me while they collected their clothes as they went. I looked down, not wishing to stare.

Daniel pointed to a fallen tree trunk, not even a fraction of the size of Hopper’s Tree. “You can put your clothes there. When you’re ready, call for me. I’ll hear you.”

I nodded, and then he was gone, like the others.

I slipped off my shirt and then my pants and waded into the water. I could tell it was cold, but it didn’t affect me. The falls were loud, but I could still hear the song of the birds, and the insects tramping through the dead leaves on the forest floor. It was incredible, but not as much as walking out into the water and stopping inside the full ray of the sun. It poured over me, and I stood there, basking in its glorious warmth. I had an eternity to feel that, and it made me feel happy for the first time since I had turned.

I bent my knees and lowered myself into the water, fully submerging myself. The thought crossed my mind as I worked my fingers through my hair that I didn’t feel the pressure I normally felt when I held my breath. I waited for that urge to break the surface, to pull air into my lungs, but it never came, so I stayed under until the red and brown tint of the water turned clear.

I stood, my hair clean, albeit tangled, and began to rub away the remnants from my fall. No bruises. No cuts. Just skin that was paler than pale, but beautiful. The water calmed enough for me to see my reflection, and I startled. My eyes were no longer the sky blue they once were. Now they were bright red, like the eyes I used to dream about.

Once I was clean, I stood in the sun for a while longer before walking back to the shore to find my clothes. I wrung out my hair and then slipped my shirt and pants back on.

A woman with long, auburn, and still-wet hair passed me, handing me a brush with a knowing smile as she returned to the water.

“Thank you,” I said softly, looking down when I realized the others were returning as well, all with eyes like mine, and all just as nude as the woman with the brush. Mother would have pitched a wild fit if she had known I was here, surrounded by a dozen or more uncovered men and women.

Mother. Father had likely given her the news by then, and she was probably beside herself with grief. Guilt washed over me, and the brush I was holding nearly fell out of my hands. I sat on the tree trunk and covered my mouth, worrying about her and my brothers, and wondering what they were doing, and how much they were hurting. I missed them already, and the knowledge that I would never see them again nearly crushed me.

My eyebrows pulled together, and I worked the brush through my hair until it was smooth. I sat the brush on the tree where my clothes had been, and then remembered Daniel’s instructions.

I could leave. No one was keeping me there. But where would I go? There were Priory in every territory. No place was safe for me.

I hesitated to say Daniel’s name, feeling foolish. I no longer had to yell, and just speaking normally made me look like I was talking to myself.

I opened my mouth and spoke his name. Unsure how much time it would take him to reach me, or even if he’d heard me, I opened my mouth to say his name again, this time a bit louder, but before the word came, he was next to me.

“Feel better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

A grin stretched across his face, and then it vanished. “Hungry?”

I took stock of my insides, waiting to feel the thirst. “I don’t know.”

“I could put a rabbit over a fire for you, but I promise you won’t like it.”

“So I eat it raw?”

“Drink from it, yes. But it must be alive. Come. I’ll show you.”

I shook my head. “I’m not hungry. I would know, right? If I were?”

“You would. Just don’t wait too long. It makes it much harder to control.”

“So there is a thirst?”

“Yes. But it doesn’t drive us mad. We don’t attack any human who comes close. Just might make you a little more inclined to try it. Much like a human. If you’re starving, you’ll eat anything, won’t you?”

“Not another human.”

“Can you say that for certain?”

He seemed amused and in good spirits. He enjoyed teaching me. I wondered if I was a new toy to him, or if he had much darker intentions.

“Why did you save me?” I asked as I followed him back to his tree.

“Because you were dying.”

“Lots of people die in these woods.”

Daniel considered this and nodded. “I didn’t want you to die.”

“Why not?”

He chuckled, looking caught. “I’ll explain it all in time. We have plenty of that. Right now I must take you to Evander, one of our elders. You’ll need his permission to stay.”

“How do I get that?”

“Ask him. It’s just a formality, really. I don’t often turn a human, and he’s eager to meet you.”

“I’ve never seen an elder. My father has…” I caught myself before I could finish.

“I know. It’s okay. We don’t blame you.”

“I’ve heard stories about the elders. That they are tall like a giant and the strongest of you.”

“Some of the stories are true,” Daniel conceded. “But they’re not giants. Not much taller than you or I,” he said, taking a moment to prove and be satisfied that he was taller than I.

“You look my age,” I said. “But you’re not, are you?”

“No,” he said, stifling a chuckle. I didn’t particularly enjoy that I entertained him so much.

We stopped at the foot of his tree, and I looked up. “When I get the elder’s permission to stay, will I get my own nest?”

“Nest?” Daniel repeated, again very amused.

“Home? Whatever you call it. Will I get my own?”

Daniel’s smile faded. “If you wish. But there’s no rush. You’re welcome in my home for as long as you’d like.”

“Could you help me build it?”

“If it means you’ll stay, then yes.”

THE ELDER’S RED EYES STARED ME DOWN
with such intensity, I wanted to run. He was taller than Daniel, like the pines that surrounded us. He seemed to be a part of the woods, like an old married couple who had been together so long, they began to resemble each other. The elder was probably as old as the Glades. Older, maybe.

Daniel motioned for me to keep my eyes to the ground. I obeyed. Other had gathered around, and the elder was flanked by much larger nightwalkers than I had seen in a very long time, if ever.

Daniel made a sweeping gesture to the elder, his voice sounding very formal. “Eris, you stand before Evander. He is one of six elders who lead our coven. He is the patriarch of the territory of Ona.”

“You wish to settle with us, daughter of the Priory?”

“I … I don’t know.”

The nightwalkers surrounding us began a quiet murmuring, and it made me feel very nervous.

One side of Evander’s face moved just a tiny bit, barely hinting at a smile. “That’s the most honest answer I’ve heard. Have you somewhere else to go?”

I shook my head. “Not at the moment.”

Something behind me caught Evander’s attention. “Speak,” he said simply.

“I beg you not to let her stay here. How many have we lost because of her?”

Daniel took a step forward. “She did not kill them, Ayana. You cannot say the same.”

“She deserved it!” the woman cried. “How much have I lost? She was there! She helped them!”

Daniel turned his head to the side, only sympathy in his eyes. “I do not deny your suffering. But I will reject Eris’s responsibility for the death of your child.”

“Child?” I said, turning to look at the woman behind me.

She looked down at me, anguish and anger weighing down her expression. “You slay our children. And you call us the monsters.”

My mouth fell open, but I had nothing to say. Father had told us they were turned at a young age. Nightwalkers couldn’t breed. It was unheard of.

“Ayana, enough,” the elder said.

The woman leaned into her mate, the male nightwalker who had pushed the tree trunk out from under me, and he held her, looking equally distraught.

I looked down. “I didn’t know.”

“We recognize that you’ve been ill-informed,” Evander said. He looked to the crowd surrounding us. “Eris may live among us.” He looked down at me. “As long as you adhere to our rules, young Prior. Trust is earned, not given.”