The Defiance (Brilliant Darkness) (24 page)

Peree joins Bear, Nerang, and me at the edge of the group. I hold my mug in my hands.

“Have some. It’s delicious,” Peree says. He must have noticed I’m not drinking.

I raise the mug to my lips and pretend to swallow, then force a smile. Why can Peree drink it, but not me? What on earth is Nerang up to?

 The sick ones rage outside the caves as everyone sips their tea inside. It’s a strange juxtaposition. But the drink does seem to have a calming effect. The tense, whispered conversations around the room begin to die down. Within a few minutes, there’s barely any sound at all.

I only realize things are not at all right when Peree slumps over on me, knocking my tea into my lap. I drop my cup and try to hold him up, but he’s too heavy; he slips to the ground. Bear slurs a word and falls over on my other side. I shake them, calling their names, but there’s no response. Not from them. Not from anyone.

I scramble to my feet. “Nerang? Kadee? What’s going on?”

A new sound catches my attention—an army of footsteps approaching from outside the caves.

I hover near Peree and Bear, unsure what to do. “Nerang!”

I shake Peree’s still body again. Could they have . . . is it possible that Fox was right, and the
anuna
have betrayed us somehow? This can’t be happening.

“Nerang! What have you done?” I almost scream.

Someone moves to my side. I flinch away.

“Be calm,” Kadee says. She must have Moon’s baby in her arms. I can smell the infant; she’s already absorbed Moon’s particularly floral scent. “The
anuna
are here
.
”

The
anuna
? Sure enough, the people of Koolkuna flow into the cave mouth, smelling of cool night air and the greenheart forest they passed through to get here. People touch my hands and welcome me back. I greet each one in a daze.

A small body slams into me, almost knocking me over. “Fenn! You’re back!
Finally
. Bega has
so
much to tell you!” Kora’s spindly arms grip my hips in a fierce embrace. I smooth her coarse curls, and she presses her doll into my hands. “Bega wants a hug, too.”

I snuggle the lump of cloth. It smells like their water hole; Kora must have taken her swimming recently. “I missed you, Kora. And you too, Bega, of course.”

“Welcome, Fennel,” a soft, feminine voice says. It’s Kora’s mother, Arika. I greet her, but I’m just going through the motions. This feels like a bizarre dream.

“Which one of the bodies is my friend Myall?” a man asks, sounding amused. It’s Konol, Nerang’s son. I point down at my feet.

“What’s wrong with them?” I ask no one in particular.

The baby starts to cry. I reach for her without thinking, and Kadee places her in my arms. I rock her gently, and she calms again after a moment.

“Nothing at all. They are merely sleeping, in a manner of speaking,” Nerang says.

Comprehension hits me way too slowly. “The tea . . . you spiked it.”

“An herbal mixture. I use it to coax my patients to sleep, including you, not very long ago. It helped you rest and heal.”

“Nerang . . . I’m not so sure—"

“Later, young one. We must go.”

The
anuna
are moving all around me. They speak to each other in the first language, their native tongue, so I can’t understand them, but they sound focused and like they’re in a hurry.

“What will we do with them?” I wave around the cave mouth with one arm, and hold my tiny, warm bundle with the other. I’m thoroughly bewildered.

“We’re taking them to Koolkuna!” Kora fizzes with excitement beside me. “Almost all of the
anuna
came! We brought lots and lots of blankets and we’re going to carry your people back to the village!”

“
Carry
them?” I repeat.

“If your people cannot see or hear the
runa
, they will not be afraid,” Nerang says. “They will sleep peacefully and wake up safely in Koolkuna. Clever Kora presented the idea.”

“I thought of it after reading a story,” she says proudly, “about a princess, a girl who would lead her people one day. A bad woman cursed the girl, saying if she pricked her finger she would die. So she was magically put into a deep sleep to protect her.” She giggles, probably at my dumfounded expression.

“Nerang . . . this is mad,” I say.

“I suppose it is,” he agrees. “If you have another idea, we would be happy to consider it.”

It
is
a mad idea. But it could also work. If the group stays asleep, they
should
be safe. I guess this is where my belief in everything we learned in Koolkuna is put to the test.

“Why did you tell me not to drink the tea?” I ask.

“One less body to carry,” Konol explains as he walks by.

I shake my head at Nerang. He
drugged
everyone, including Peree, without explaining what he was doing. I understand why, but I can’t say I agree with his methods.

“I wish you would have been honest with us.”

“Would your people have drunk the tea?”

I sigh. “No, probably not.”

“Well, then.” He sounds like that settles it. “We must be going. The effects of the tea can be unpredictable. If they wake surrounded by the
runa
. . .” He makes a clucking sound.

The hatchling stirs in my arms. “What about Moon’s baby? Will she be okay?”

“The
guru
will be perfectly safe. Perhaps you would like to carry her to be certain?”

“Bega and I will guide you,” Kora offers, her voice suffused with confidence. “We’re very good with
gurus.
”

The
anuna
grunt with effort as they lift and carry our unconscious people out of the cave. I don’t envy whoever is carrying Moray and his brothers. Or Bear, for that matter.

I freeze, waiting for the sounds of a struggle with the
runa
. The creatures still scream, but as far as I can tell, they don’t interfere. I step to the edge of the cave mouth, trembling, my arms cocooning the baby. I can’t quite make myself believe it’s safe. The Scourge is out there.

“Step outside, Fennel,” Kadee says from beside me. “You are safe. We all are. We always have been.”

Taking that first step into the darkness with a newborn clutched in my arms and little Kora by my side, surrounded by a throng of flesh eaters, the stench of their bodies assaulting my nose and my ears ringing with their cries, is incredibly difficult.

But they were right. They were always right. We’re perfectly safe.

Kora is true to her word, conscientiously escorting me around obstacles as we follow a path that snakes around groves of greenheart trees. I step cautiously at first, afraid I might stumble, or trip and drop the baby. My friend is more quiet than usual as we make our way. I ask her what’s wrong.

“They keep asking for help, and their faces are so sad. I don’t know what they want. I wish I did.”

I forgot the
anuna
, including Kora, could hear the
runa
speak. It will take days before the clean water from the Myuna works its magic and I’m able to hear their words, too. In the meantime I only hear the rabid groans. I cuddle the baby closer, lifting her up to my ear to hear her steady breathing.

The
anuna
begin singing as they carry the bodies of our people through the greenheart trees on blankets. Kora, the baby, and I follow in the gentle moonlight. We must make a truly strange procession.

Bega fills me in on all the gossip I missed. Her father, Derain, almost severed his finger carving a new toy for her brother, Darel. Wirrim, the
anunas’
story-keeper, has been ill; he’s one of the few who did not come tonight.

“Where’s Kaiya?” I ask. I haven’t heard Peree’s admirer’s voice.

“Helping to carry Myall,” Kora says.

Of course she is.

Koolkuna turns out to be ridiculously close to the cave mouth. I’m able to get my bearings when we cross the stream by the clearing where Peree and I spent the night after the Feast of Deliverance. The same stream I was wading in alone when I was surprised and frightened to hear one of the
runa
. Memories of my time in the village flood through me, not all of them pleasant. Yet being back here feels unexpectedly like coming home.

A few minutes later we file into the
allawah,
the large shelter where the
anuna
hold their gatherings. The
anuna
spread out around the space. Kora tells me they're laying people on pallets they prepared for us that morning.

“I will take the baby now,” Arika says as I stand around, unsure what to do. “You need to rest.”

I hate to give up my sweet-smelling bundle, but she’s probably going to need to nurse soon and I’m definitely no help there. I pass her to Arika, who pats my arm.

“Sleep. Your people are safe. You’ve done well, Mirii.”

I give her a wobbly smile, wondering why she called me
merry
. I’m too worn out to ask. I collapse on the nearest unoccupied cot, wondering where Peree is. Sleep creeps around me. I welcome it.

I smell another scent, almost as familiar as my own. "Peree?"

"Morning." His lips brush mine. "I didn't know you slept with a doll." He plucks something soft and stuffed out of my hands that I didn't realize I was holding.

"Bega?" I guess with a sleepy smile. That would explain the mildew smell. Kora must have tucked her in with me when I fell asleep.

People stir all around us. They sound grumpy and disoriented, but at least they aren't panicking.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"No idea. I've only been awake for a little while myself. I didn't want you to wake up alone, but now that you are . . . I need to go find Nerang and wring his skinny, hairless neck for drugging us."

I grab at his arm. "Peree, don't be angry. I don't agree with what he did either, but he only did it to get us here safely. And we
are
safe. In Koolkuna. Together."
But without Eland
, a voice in my head reminds me.

"True." He pulls me into his arms and kisses me again, with more focus. "Still going to kill him."

"Kill who?" someone says.

"Your father," Peree answers, getting to his feet. "Where is he?"

"Where's my knife you borrowed?" Konol demands. His voice has the same quality of suppressed laughter as his father's.

"Right here. Come and get it."

They wrestle for a minute, then break up, chortling.

"What do we have to do to get some food around here?" Moray shouts from somewhere across the room. I cringe and wonder if the
anuna
banish people for being obnoxious. If so, he won't last long. The thought gives me comfort.

More people are awake now. Dahlia starts to cry, and Moon and Petrel's baby joins her wailing chorus. Peree and Konol flop down next to me, panting.

"How's the hatchling?" I ask Peree.

"She looks fine. Arika's helping them out. I think you and Ivy might be Moon's favorite people now. Watch out—as soon as she's on her feet she'll be cooking nonstop for you . . . and speaking of cooking, breakfast is ready. That'll improve people's moods."

The
anuna
begin to wind around the
allawah
, serving plates of food. Konol sits with us as we eat thick porridge topped with sweet berries. He tells us what we missed while we were away. I already know most of it from Bega, but it's fascinating to hear about the
anunas’
preparations for our arrival, including agreeing to Kora's idea to put everyone to sleep.

"So that's your father's evil plan?" Peree asks. "Sedate us whenever we get out of line?"

Konol only laughs.

"Where is everyone going to stay?" I ask him. Surely we won't all sleep in here for long. We'll kill each other.

"We began building new homes for the
lorinya
after you left Koolkuna—some on the ground, some in the trees."
Lorinya
means
stranger
in the first language. I heard it everywhere I went when I first visited Koolkuna.

"Really? You did that for us?" I wish for the hundredth time that my brother could be here to experience their generosity.

"We saved your home for you, Myall," Konol goes on. "Thought you would want it back."

Peree squeezes my shoulders. "What do you say, Fenn? It's on the ground."

"But you like to be in the trees." I'm fighting the pain that ripples through me whenever I think about what Eland would want.

"Maybe we'll build one up there later, when you feel better about it. For now, I'm happy wherever you are." His voice is quiet.

"People of the forest, welcome. We extend the peace of Koolkuna to you." Wirrim's fragile yet authoritative voice rises over the din of breakfast. "We have a tradition of welcoming
lorinya
with a story. The story I will tell you was passed down to us through the generations of our people. Now we offer it to you."

He coughs. It’s the harsh sound of the winter wind. He sounds weaker when he speaks again. I've only heard Wirrim tell a few tales, and each time was unforgettable in its own way. Given how he sounds now, I can't help wondering if this is the last time I'll hear him speak.

He shares the story of hearty trees that refuse to offer an ailing bird shelter, until the lowliest of the group—Pine—agrees. That selflessness is why Pine alone was granted the great honor of keeping its green needles throughout the cold season.

Everyone is silent, even the children, as Wirrim finishes. He draws in a deep, rasping breath.

"We offer you a life sheltered among our branches, people of the forest. And in offering you this, we rest easy in the knowledge that the Creator will bless us all and give us peace."