The Defiance (Brilliant Darkness)

They work together. Cooperate. That's what our teacher, Bream, taught us. It's a beautiful thought.

My people, the Groundlings, live on the earth. Peree's people, the Lofties, live in the trees above us. We have common roots. What we can't seem to find is a way to shelter and sustain each other.

I decided to come home after finding the protected village of Koolkuna, hoping I’d find a way to persuade our people to cooperate for long enough to get them safely back there. I wanted to believe when they experienced that kind of peace, and they were free of the delusions about the Scourge caused by our war-poisoned water and soil, they would let our violent past die a quiet death. Like Peree and I have.

The Reckoning proved it wouldn’t be so easy. Many people on both sides died when our people clashed, including my foster mother, Aloe, and Peree’s foster father, Shrike.

I allowed myself to hope again when the Confluence formed to work together to solve our problems. But it’s been a week, and they haven’t even persuaded our people to shake hands, much less make any progress on the issue of leaving for Koolkuna. The Confluence hasn’t gone well. Not at all.

The Lofties refused to leave their homes unprotected and come to the ground to meet with us. They only allowed the new, hastily assembled Groundling Council of Three—Fox, Pinion, and Bream—to enter the trees for the Confluence. An entire meeting was wasted negotiating that. At least the Three aren’t under armed guard during the meetings anymore. But I’m learning that words can pierce a fragile peace as absolutely as a spear or arrow.

Peree and I have made it clear we intend to partner. Since then, we’ve endured the disapproving silences and openly hostile barbs about how unnatural it is for a Lofty and a Groundling to desire to spend their lives together. Why can't they understand how unnatural it is for our people, related by blood and by place, to live apart?

Peree and I want to spend time together without feeling judged, so we’ve taken to sneaking around. In the trees, we hide out and talk in a lonely shelter far away along the perimeter of the walkways. On the ground, a dense grove of greenheart trees will do. Today we sought out the thick swathes of maiden grass along the banks of the water hole.

A duck honks irritably as we slip through the stiff stalks of its home. The tops of the late-summer grasses shiver well above our heads, concealing waterfowl and lovers alike. We emerge from them now.

With my lips pressed against Peree's, as they were only moments ago, I can ignore the pain of losing Aloe. I can forget the disappointment in our people. These fleeting moments with him are gifts, like the heady scent of the greenheart trees after a storm, or the feel of a silky, unblemished stone from the water hole. Unremarkable to others, maybe, but precious to me.

We slink through the shadowy forest toward the gardens, our arms snaked around each other. Peree still limps, thanks to our harrowing journey through the caves searching for the mythical Hidden Waters. He doesn't complain, but I can hear in his shallow breathing and feel in the tension of his torso how much it cost him to follow me home from Koolkuna before his injured leg was fully healed.

"What are you thinking about?" His voice is a soothing compress for my troubled thoughts.

"Nothing I want to talk about."

He tugs me to a stop. "What kind of nothing?"

"I just wonder how long we can keep this up."

"Keep what up?” He kisses me gently. “This? Forever, I hope."

I smile half-heartedly. "I mean I wonder how long we can be together. Here. In this place.”

"What are you saying? Are you ready to go back to Koolkuna?"

"I don’t know. Maybe.”

"Say the word and we're gone.”

I cock my head. "Really? What about your people? You were so focused on finding a way to help them."

He smoothes my hair. "I have other things to focus on now.”

His lips find mine again, and I feel woozy when we finally break apart, as if I've been swimming underwater for too long.

We walk on, my scarred hand in his bow-callused one. Being Sightless, the sudden brightening of the light is the only thing I’m able to perceive; it tells me we’ve left the forest and entered the large clearing encompassing the gardens.

I pull away from Peree as soon as I hear Groundling voices. He hates my strict no-touching-in-public rule, and I
detest
it. Still, I don't think we should make things harder for ourselves by flaunting our relationship. Deciding to partner has caused trouble enough.

"Fennel . . . Peree!" Eland's feet thump across the ground toward us.

My little brother doesn't take my hand like he might have before. Any childishness about him was stamped out by our mother’s death, and the hardship our people faced in the caves while besieged by the Lofties and the Scourge. But there are flashes of it, like his willingness to let me tuck him in at night when no one else can see. That's when he feels Aloe’s loss the most. No matter how busy or preoccupied she was she never missed saying goodnight to him. So now, neither will I.

"I strung my bow," Eland says proudly.

"Nice work.” Peree helped him choose a suitable tree branch yesterday and they shaped the bow together. "We can tighten it up a bit, and I'll show you how to make arrows next.
Good
arrows, like we use."

"Can we do it now?"

"Sure, if your sister can stand to let me go." Peree’s voice is teasing; he nudges me.

I snort. "Eland, you aren't neglecting your work, are you?"

He's helping clear and replant the beds in the garden. He grumbles that it's work for children and elders, arguing that at almost thirteen years old he should be allowed to go out scouting for game with the hunting party now. So far the Three haven't agreed.

“Acacia said I could go. C’mon, Fenn,” Eland pleads. Acacia, my best friend Calli’s mother, took over management of the gardens since the Reckoning.

I purse my lips. "Fine. You boys go have fun playing with your instruments of death and destruction."

Eland tears off toward the archery range, hooting like an owl. I haven't heard him so excited since I returned from Koolkuna. It's a beautiful sound.

Peree leans in very close, pausing a breath away from my face, as if to kiss me again. My cautious, responsible side instantly frets about who might be watching. The rest of me, tingling with anticipation, couldn't care less.

I soak in his summery scent, so much like honeysuckle, trying desperately to prevent my traitorous arms from slipping around him. I'm sure he's smirking, watching me get all flustered. I wish I could touch his mouth to find out for sure, but I don't dare.

He doesn’t kiss me. Instead, he touches the pendant at my neck, the bird he carved for me. Technically, it violates my no public touching rule, but I don't care. I love the gesture—an unspoken reminder of his feelings for me, and our commitment to each other. I want to hold on to him and never let go. But I point myself toward home instead, and he follows Eland.

The rhythmic sound of wood being dissected meets me as I approach the clearing. The Lofties must have agreed to let us cut down a few trees, probably in exchange for extra water. My people have pushed hard since the Reckoning to clean up the gardens, fix our neglected shelters, and hunt for small game. The forest reclaimed our homes with astonishing avidity while we hid in the caves. It took Eland and me hours to march the dust and dirt out of our shelter at broom-point.

Bear's husky voice mingles with those of the axmen in the clearing. I tense, tempted to go back the way I came. He hasn't been treating me differently since I told him I would partner with Peree, but something's definitely off in his voice, and he vanishes whenever Peree's around. I understand, but it still hurts. He’s one of my best friends. Or he was.

Calli shouts from the direction of her shelter, a baiting note in her voice. "Oh,
look
, it's Fennel! Where do you think
she's
been?"

My lips flatten into a hard line as she comes toward me. She knows exactly where I've been.

Calli’s scent is sharp and spicy from working in the stillroom. The potent smell summons memories of Nerang, the talented healer who saved Peree’s life in Koolkuna. I long to be with him, little Kora, and my other friends there again.

"How'd you get all this maiden grass in your hair?" Her voice is light, but it has an edge of cattiness. She plucks something off the top of my head.

"You know I was with Peree."

She lowers her voice. "You were with him, but were you
with
him?"

"None of your business."
Especially if you're going to act like this
. I try to change the subject. "What about you and Cricket? Any progress there?"

She moans. "Fox won't let us go
anywhere
alone now that he knows Cricket wants to partner with me.”

I frown. "I'm sorry he's being a stickler."

"He's not being a stickler with you and your Lofty. It's like none of the rules apply to you anymore." Is that what her hostility is about?

"Maybe it’s because I'm not his child.” I keep my voice quiet, unsure who might be listening. "Listen, I didn't plan for any of this to happen the way it did. It's not like I wanted to fall in love with a Lofty. Far from it." I reach out for her hand. "But I did, and I wish you could be happy for me."

"I'm trying. Really.” Her voice is serious now. “It’s not easy. It's so strange . . . a Groundling and a Lofty . . . and it's really hard watching Bear's face when he sees you two together."

Ouch
. The wonderful—and terrible—thing about knowing someone your whole life is that they know exactly what to say to influence you. I gather up the guilt and regret about hurting Bear and bury it all in a shallow spot inside me. I'll dig it up later to agonize over when I'm alone.

Ignoring the lump in my throat, I tug on her hand. "Let's forget about boys and go in my shelter and . . ." I cast around for a second, trying to come up with something fun we used to do, "and fix each other's hair. Clearly mine's a wreck."