Girl of Myth and Legend (21 page)

We continue to stand here, silence engulfing us. I decide that there’s nothing I can say to make this exchange lighter, that it’s not my right to uplift him. I turn, opening my mouth to tell him that we should go back.

Something seemingly insignificant catches my eye, and for a moment it looks as if it’s glimmering. I stare at it, comprehending its existence, and go to it, crouching down at the peak of the hill, staring at the smallest of flowers, its petals the same colour as my eyes, the only one not to be crushed by the snow.

‘What’s with this? Damn thing is persistent, isn’t it?’ I say. ‘It’s alone out here, frozen. I could probably squash it. Wouldn’t that be easier? That way it doesn’t have to suffer anymore.’ I put my hand over it, as if to kill it. ‘But y’know, despite the harsh winds and falling snow, this little thing grew and created its
own
warmth. The winds will come and the snow will fall, and always the world will try to freeze it over… but if it’s strong enough, if it holds on for just a little while, spring will soon come and warm the world again. It won’t be alone anymore.’

I look up to see Korren gazing down at me, hanging onto my words. ‘Don’t be scared to lose hope once in a while. Don’t be scared to fall and get back up again—again and again and again if that’s what it takes. And then,’ I say, ‘just like this persistent little thing, the winds won’t matter anymore, and the snow won’t be able to touch you, and you’ll find the courage to
grow
. And y’know, Korren?’ I smile. ‘I think that’s something you can believe in.’

It is silent. The cold wind blusters against us, the clouds begin to cover the moons’ light, and the snow thickens on the ground. He’s looking at me with an expression I’ve never seen before, his bronze eyes wide, his lips slightly parted as if in awe, and I realise that he is, that he’s in wonder. I start to feel stupid for what I said, so I stand up and turn my gaze away from him, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.

‘S-so, um, we’d better be heading back,’ I say. ‘We have the soul-binding tomorrow, and I—’

‘I detest you.’

I blink and look up to him. Like a
snap
, his expression has changed into lividness, the kind of livid that would scare you if you were a girl standing out in the middle of nowhere with nothing but a brainless dog for protection.

‘I
detest
you,’ he says louder, glaring, fire burning in his eyes. ‘Everything you are, everything you stand for, even this place and this fate that I’ve no choice but to share with you, I despise it all. You think a few words will bind me to you? You think you can tie my soul to yours so easily?
Never
. I can’t break the chains binding me to you, but I’ll wait; I’ll wait for the moment you take your last breath, and I promise you I’ll rejoice when that happens. Then I’ll forget it all. I will not remember you or think of you. The memory of you will burn and die as if your meaningless existence never
was
.’

With that, he turns, leaving me standing in the starlight.

KORREN

COLOUR IN WORDS

I detest her. That’s what I told myself a few hours ago, and though there is
something
there, a feeling of connection, I don’t think it’s as strong as this hatred.

And yet…

‘I pictured an ally, a
friend
…’
Those words—they hit me like a sledgehammer. Not once have I ever heard a Chosen say such a thing. Della said she would be ignorant, and she was right. Doesn’t this stupid girl know anything? She of all Chosen could not view kytaen as friends. And why would she persist in thinking that way about someone that plainly hates her? She really is stupid. Friend? The thought of it is laughable. Absurd.

Kind
.

I’m intrigued by her—I’ll admit that. But I’m also frustrated. Why can’t I define this copper-haired girl? Usually, I can read a Chosen’s character within a matter of minutes. I can’t comprehend
her
, though. Her nature is as unfathomable to me as an endless maze.

I recall what she said about O’Sah, and I think about her being like every other keeper I have had: cold, hateful, cruel. Somehow, the image can’t form in my mind. As frustrating as she can be, hate and cruelty are not part of her nature—I realise that now. However, when she said she understood my perspective—I don’t know why, and I scold myself for it—there was a solid
pang
in my chest, a sudden flicker of life. It’s not that I want her to be kind to me, but it’s a small, very small comfort, that at least one Chosen living in this world doesn’t want to treat kytaen with such disregard. Yes, when we talk it might be true that we clash, yet, that’s still a form of respect in its own way, because she’s treating me, as O’Sah told her, as an equal, as if I’m worthy of her attention. The very thought that she might be easily swayed by him was… disappointing.

But it also made me happy.

If she begins to think that way, the same way as O’Sah and every other Chosen, then she’ll no longer speak to me so openly, so kindly. I won’t have to try to disarm her words that bury deep into me. I should never have even let them. I know from my last keeper that, though they can be powerful, that is all they are—words: meaningless sticky webs of lies.

I roll onto my side, the bench creaking under my weight. It begins to thunder outside, the rain pelting the small window of the arux.

I completely forgot myself when I shouted at her. It’s not that I’m afraid of the repercussions, rather that I showed a side of myself that is close to my heart, a side I don’t want anyone to see: my vulnerability is my own. In my confusion and anger over her constant, gripping words, I lost my thoughts, my rationality, and I let slip my self-discipline, my caution, and bared to her my soul.

But forgetting for a moment how my comments affected me, how are they affecting
her
? Maybe… maybe it was wrong of me to say what I did.

No, it wasn’t wrong. Of course it wasn’t wrong. So what if I made her upset? So what if I hurt her feelings? What I said was true, wasn’t it? I do detest her, don’t I?

But then aren’t I just seeing her as I want her to be? Am I not just seeing every keeper, every Pulsar, in her? She’s never been unkind to me. Not really. She even wants us to be
friends
.

No.
No
! Because this is what happens: they trick you with their smiles, they feed you such sweet lies, and the moment you believe them, the moment you believe they are
everything
you have been looking for, they turn your back on you—or they die. Anyway, she’s not what I’ve been looking for; she’s not anything to me.

What wrong did I do exactly? It’s not as if my words really matter to her. Then again, it’s unusual for her to look so shaken, so speechless. Did I really do some damage? If I did, shouldn’t I be
happy
about that? Since I came here, I’ve been trying to make her reconsider the soul-binding. Was this what was needed all along, a few hate-filled words? I thought she was made of stone, but maybe I caused a crack.

Or maybe I didn’t.

I hit my head against the bench.
Never
have I felt so much frustration. Why am I even contemplating whether to feel guilty? She’s the one keeping me bound, which makes her my enemy. My plan was failing; is it now on course again? Have I finally made that stubborn girl hate me enough to return me to Aris, as improbable as that may be?

I try to sleep. It doesn’t come. It’s not the bench that’s keeping me awake tonight—it’s her. I can’t stop thinking about the words she spoke as she looked down at the flower. I don’t know what they were supposed to mean, or what I’m supposed to believe in. I’m not sure what she was trying to tell me, and I spend most of the night tormenting myself as to what she meant.

‘…just like this persistent little thing, the winds won’t matter anymore, and the snow won’t be able to touch you, and you’ll find the courage to
grow
.’

Oh.

Oh.

I understand now.

She wasn’t telling me to be comfortable living as a keeper’s pet. She wasn’t telling me to once again become accustomed to this way of life. She was telling me to be strong, because if I don’t believe in the way my kind is being treated, then I should stand up against the wrongdoers, no matter how relentless or how cold their wind is. She was telling me to fight for what I believe in even if it is against her kind. She believes I should never conform. Though I am alone in this rebellion, if I hold out a little longer, if I refuse to let the winter winds blow me away or the cold to freeze me over, if I somehow create my own warmth, someday I won’t be alone. Someday more will grow beside me, and I will be able to protect them with the warmth that I have made.

Is that why she refuses to treat me as O’Sah tells her? Is that why she allows me to say what I want and doesn’t punish me when I do? Because she sees me as an independent entity, a life and not a
thing
? She doesn’t understand this world of myth and magic, and perhaps not even the implication of her message, but under the layers of her colourful words there is one thing she was trying to say most of all: never let them crush what you believe in.

This girl… who is she? What am I supposed to do with these words that can be easily swept away? They can’t do anything. They can’t change anything. But in me, like a bud growing and blossoming, I realise her words
have
done something: they have shifted something in me, given me a gift as small as a seed, but still it is there in my barely beating heart. Burgeoning.

Leonie Woodville… who
are
you?

LEONIE

SECRETS IN THE GARDEN

‘Afternoon,’ says Jacob, as I enter the Breakfast Room.

‘Mmm, ’fteroo,’ I say.

He closes the book he was reading and raises an eyebrow. ‘Um, did you just speak a different language?’

‘Yeah. It’s called “Sleepless Night”,’ I say. ‘It’s a universal language.’

He laughs.

‘Where is everyone?’ I ask.

‘I think they’re skipping lunch. Something about souls.’

‘Ah. The soul-binding.’ It’s not as if I’d forgotten it, it being the reason I didn’t get any sleep. No, not
the
reason. Stupid Korren. ‘How come you weren’t at breakfast today, Jacob? You always eat that green crap they put on our plates, so I was hoping you could eat all mine before anyone noticed.’

He holds up the book he was reading, a smile on his face. ‘I was reading this. It’s really cool. You should give it a try.’

I look at the cover. ‘What does it even say?’

‘You can’t read it?’

‘Why so shocked?’

He tries to keep a level expression. ‘It’s just, with all the lessons with O’Sah, I thought you’d know the basics by now.’

‘He hasn’t got to that part of our lessons yet.’ I fold my arms. ‘So, you know how to read already, huh?’

‘Yeah! A bit. It’s really easy. Oh, uh, I’m sure you’ll pick it up easily, too.’

I hold my head a bit higher. ‘Of course.’
Don’t be jealous, idiot, I tell myself. Sure, he’s younger than you, but you know how it is: the young adapt better than the old
.

Wait, aren’t I only seventeen?

‘A-anyway,’ I say quickly, ‘how’s your other lessons with…?’

‘Pandra.’ He rubs his neck. ‘I don’t think he likes me very much. He thinks I can be slow sometimes.’

‘Slow? You can already
read
mythical language.’

‘It’s actually called Elskcri.’

‘See? You’re smart. He does realise you’ve been brought up in the human realm, right?’

‘I don’t think that matters much to him.’

‘Do you want me to have a word with him?’

‘No no no no no! He’d kill me for sure.’ He puts the book he’s holding onto his lap. ‘Besides, he’s not that bad. He’s actually kinda nice when he’s in a good mood. After our history lesson yesterday, he let me have more dinner than usual.’

‘…Uh, right.’

‘So what are you doing today?’ he asks. ‘We can go around the temples like we said if you want.’

I guess he doesn’t know about the soul-binding, not that he’d have to know much unless he was a Throne or, well,
me
. ‘We’ll have to do that some other time. O’Sah’s got me doing a lot for the next few days. Oh, have you seen my dad, by the way?’