Trail of Flames Page 3

  “Good.” He opened the door, staying just outside the room. “We made some food if you’re hungry.”

  My stomach growled painfully, making an audible gurgle Cypress could hear. He grinned as I fought the embarrassment reddening my cheeks. I followed him to the other room where a bowl of fruit and some hard-boiled eggs waited on the table. Much to my relief, Kalea was gone. I didn’t want to eat breakfast with her eyes piercing into me as she asked questions about my home and heritage.

  “I’m afraid we don’t have anything you’d like,” Cypress told Saven as he looked in the kitchen window.

  I felt Saven’s disappointment. “You could go hunt,” I suggested aloud. “You need to get your strength back too.” Then I added in my head, “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

  Saven hissed and I felt his hesitation, but hunger got the best of him. “I’ll be back soon.”

  We sat at the table and Cypress pushed the bowls toward me. My greedy hands grabbed for the food, then I glanced at him sheepishly. “You aren’t eating?”

  Cypress waved dismissively. “I already did. Go ahead.”

  I felt both awkward and somewhat suspicious. If Saven were still here, I’d have him smell for poison. That’s silly, I told myself. Kalea said to earn my trust, not kill me. Still, I worried.

  I bit into a soft, ripe pear, ignoring the juice that dribbled down my chin and forearm as sweetness exploded on my tongue. With my other hand, I tapped an egg against the table to crack the shell. I slid my thumb nail under the crack and flipped upward, sending a piece sailing across the table.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, suddenly aware of my rude behavior.

  Cypress chuckled while I wiped pear juice off my chin with the back of my hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure your journey across the mountains was exhausting. I get pretty hungry after a trip too.”

  I wrinkled my brow in confusion. “A trip?”

  “A trading trip,” he replied, as though it were obvious.

  I nodded quickly. “Right, right.” I took another huge bite of pear to avoid saying anything that might give me away.

  “Were you escaping?”

  I froze mid-chew. Images of the City’s airships filled my mind—their fire bombs pounding the Grakkir village, deserted except for the bodies lying in hastily dug graves. “Yes.” I kept my eyes on the table. “I was escaping.”

  Cypress sat quietly for a long moment. I set the fruit down and swept egg shells into a pile. Suddenly I was no longer hungry.

  “I’m sorry,” Cypress finally said. “I don’t want to pry, but I’d like to know what prompted the attack. I worry my own people may be in danger.”

  My eyes shot to his, perhaps with more fury than I intended. “I cannot speak for the City,” I grumbled. “They destroy when they feel slighted. It’s what they do. Whether it is warranted isn’t for me to say, but if there is any reason your people should feel guilty for a crime, then I can’t guarantee your safety. As long as the City remains in power, no one is truly safe.”

  Judging by the wide-eyed expression on Cypress’s face, I could have fooled him into thinking I was born Grakkir.

  Saven hissed from the window, announcing his return. “Valieri, this forest is beautiful,” he said excitedly. “The trees grow tall and strong, it is warm and humid, and there are animals everywhere.”

  It had been some time since I’d heard him so animated. I smiled as tension eased from my chest and Saven’s enthusiasm replaced it. “Perhaps I should see it for myself.”

  I turned to Cypress, suddenly uncomfortable to be caught speaking to Saven with my thoughts. He watched me with fascination. “I’ve been to the Grakkir village often in my life, but this is the first time I’ve seen someone speak to their god that way.” There was admiration in his voice. “I almost thought your telepathy was just a rumor.”

  “No, it is real.” I shrugged. At first, speaking to Saven in my mind had been odd, but now it was as natural as breathing. The same could be said for our empathy—the flow of emotions that passed back and forth between us. It was no longer uncomfortable for him to know exactly what I was thinking or feeling at any given moment. I felt like I had a lifelong best friend, even though Saven and I had met not long ago.

  “Saven has been admiring your forest,” I continued. “He said it’s beautiful, and I would like to see it for myself.”

  “Very well,” Cypress said. “I’ll show you around.”

  I wanted to protest and insist we go alone, but I could tell from his watchful gaze that he wanted to keep an eye on us. Though his hospitality felt sincere, I kept remembering the conversation I’d overheard the night before. They needed to decide if they could trust us, and if they didn’t, or found Saven and I to be a danger to their people, we were in their territory. Escape might not be easy.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The morning sun filtered through gaps in the thick canopy above, casting dancing shadows in patches of light. Though it wasn’t yet the middle of summer, somehow the heat became trapped in the forest, making the air surprisingly humid for the time of year.

  “It’s a completely different world compared to Snowy Mountain.” Saven slithered close beside me.

  I shivered, remembering the biting cold that nearly devoured us. He was right—this forest was like its own world, closed off from the rest of humanity. I felt a little jealous. I’d love to have a sanctuary where I could survive on my own.

  The village slowly came to life. People left their houses, splitting off in different directions to begin working for the day. It reminded me of walking with Jenassa to the orchard, parting ways as we passed the stables where she and my father worked. There had only been one day she followed me—the day that ended in fire and ash.

  I shook myself as anxiety clenched my stomach. Saven peered down at me, sensing my sour emotions. I gave him a small, reassuring smile.

  “I’ll take you to my favorite place,” Cypress said, cutting into my thoughts.

  “Alright.” I used his words to pull myself out of the past.

  We walked around the back of houses until a small path cut into the forest. Tree branches hung low over the trail, almost forming a leafy tunnel. The sun dappled patterns over the leaves and ground, mesmerizing and slightly dizzying. Though it reminded me of the forests outside the Fiero village, this jungle was so different. The Secara’s influence could be seen everywhere, gently shaping the forest into a suitable living space without ever once needing to cut a single tree. Their ingenuity was pure genius.

  “It’s like the forest shaped itself into a home around your people,” I observed.

  “Not on its own,” Cypress corrected. “That would be silly.” He gave me a playful smirk.

  Cypress expertly picked his way through the undergrowth. He’d obviously spent many years traveling down the worn paths and knew when to duck under a branch or sidestep a rock. As I watched his back, I realized he wasn’t pushing the branches aside with his hands, they were moving out of his way.

  Saven’s mind hummed with curious excitement. The unfamiliar trees piqued his interest and his tongue flicked to catch scents we couldn’t detect. A long-tailed bird squawked above us and darted away in a flash of brilliant colors. Unfamiliar bugs crawled by our feet.

  “It’s amazing how everything here is so different from the forests around the Grakkir and Fiero villages,” I observed.

  “Yes,” Saven agreed. “It appears both humans and wildlife are thriving due to their solitude.”

  The tree-lined tunnel opened and Cypress stepped to one side. I joined him, and my breath caught in my throat.

  A thundering waterfall cascaded down the rocky cliffside, crashing into a sparkling pool beneath us. Trees circled the area, making me feel protected despite the open sky above. The leaves rustled like laughter and I felt envious of the stunning forest the Secara called home, so far away from the City’s watchful gaze.

  Cypress looked around and chuckled softly. “The trees are curious about the s
trangers in their home. They have not felt such peculiar energy before.”

  My heart leapt, but I didn’t let alarm show on my face. “The Grakkir have never been here, have they?”

  “Nor a god.” Cypress observed Saven taking in his surroundings like an awestruck child. “Would you like a closer look?” He pointed at the pool.

  I nodded. Cypress turned and led us down the spiraling path that wound along the cliffside. We entered a small cavern that cut through the rocks and the waterfall’s mist sprayed my skin. Laughter rang out over the hissing water as we neared the pool. A group of dark-skinned children tossed a large brown fruit back and forth, throwing faster and faster each time the object touched a pair of hands.

  The fruit slipped from a boy’s grasp and splashed into the pool.

  “Careful,” Cypress reprimanded gently. “The fruit cannot be wasted.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll get it!” The boy beamed widely. He turned and sprinted down the bank and straight towards the pond.

  “Wait!” I cried.

  At the last moment, a large tree root lifted from the ground and shot out over the water. Without missing a step, the boy’s bare feet scampered over the root as it formed a bridge to where the fruit bobbed in the middle of the pond. He scooped it up and ran back to shore. The root followed him and returned to its place in the ground, nestling into the dirt as though it had never left.

  My mouth fell open in surprise. I quickly shut it and looked at Cypress. “Did you do that?”

  “No, of course not. He did it himself.”

  I stared after the children, who picked up their baskets of brown fruit and sped up the spiraling trail. They must have been half my age, but they had tremendous control over their powers. I realized then that the Secara were more than just gardeners who could persuade crops to grow; they could control plant life the way I could control fire.

  When I’d first tried my skills with the Ancient Fire, even lighting a candle made me break out in a sweat. I was stronger now, of course, but not nearly as strong as they seemed to be. I wasn’t sure if I should be more jealous or impressed.

  “The Secara likely grow up using their powers freely,” Saven suggested. “They don’t have the City hovering over them like the Fiero did.”

  “I wonder what it would have been like,” I mused. “To light candles as a toddler, the fireplace as child, and infernos now, all without breaking a sweat.”

  “And for everyone in your clan to be able to do the same,” Saven added.

  “Yes.” I remembered the lack of Animal Gods in the Grakkir village. At one time, everyone had a god companion. Now only six people lived with a god at their side. Khero, the wolf god, was nowhere to be found, having disappeared after we’d lost Tarek. And I was the only Fire Bringer in existence.

  I closed my eyes against the sadness that threatened to overtake me. I pushed away the envy I had towards these people and replaced it with respect. Yes, they were lucky indeed.

  The wind shifted suddenly, causing the leaves to quiver and hiss. Saven turned his face to the sky and flicked his tongue. “Rain,” he observed.

  I followed his gaze and noticed angry clouds building in the distance. “A storm is coming.”

  Cypress nodded. “The trees are eager for a storm.”

  My eyes shifted to the shuddering leaves and swaying branches. I knew plants were living beings, but it was unusual to think of them as creatures capable of emotions like excitement and curiosity. I had much to learn from the Secara.

  We had hardly taken a step up the winding path when the first droplets pattered against the leaves. By the time we reached the top, the wind blew violently as a downpour fell over our heads. The branches pitched and bucked, bending back and forth in an aggressive dance. We sprinted through the forest as curtains of rain pelted us in sideways waves. Lightning flashed in the darkened sky, followed by a thunderous boom.

  “We should find shelter!” I called above the howling wind. It was like being on Snowy Mountain again.

  “I agree!” Cypress shouted over his shoulder. “This way!”

  He bolted off the beaten path onto a narrow trail that twisted between trees. Minutes later, he stopped in front of a tall, moss-covered boulder. He pressed his hand to the moss and the fuzzy foliage crept upward to reveal a small cave entrance.

  “In here.” Cypress stepped inside.

  The cavern was nearly black as night, lit only by the dim light that found its way inside the entranceway. Still, it was quiet and dry inside. I wrung out the hem of my soaked shirt and panted, exhausted from our sprint. Saven settled beside me, drinking in my warmth and grumbling to himself about the sudden drop in temperature.

  “That storm came out of nowhere,” I said. “Does it always rain like this around here?”

  “This time of year, yes.” Cypress leaned against the cave wall, trying to catch his breath.

  “No wonder the trees grow so tall.”

  Cypress chuckled. “It benefits us all. The unpredictable storms keep the City’s airships away.”

  I hummed thoughtfully. Surely the trees blocked any view from the air, and perhaps the pounding wind was too rough for the small scouting ships. “How long have your people lived in isolation?”

  Cypress shrugged. “For as long as I can remember, but it wasn’t always this way.”

  “The clans used to live together in harmony.”

  “Most of the time,” Saven added.

  “There were fights, of course, but they helped maintain the peace. Elements balance each other out. I’m sure it was natural—until the City stepped in.”

  “The Powerless Ones.” Cypress watched me pensively. “Jealous of the Ancient Powers, they sought to destroy them and gain control over all of us.”

  I nodded, realizing we had both heard a similar story about how the City took over. “It should not be this way.” I stared at him intensely. “One should not have power over all. There needs to be balance.”

  Cypress tilted his head. “And how do you suggest we do that? Most of the remaining clans are hiding and the Fiero are dead, the Ancient Fire with them. Do the Grakkir plan to storm the wall and break it down with axes? Last I knew, most of the gods had disappeared.”

  His sudden coolness took me by surprise. “No, of course not,” I said. “We could rally allies and do it together.”

  Cypress shook his head. “I admire the Grakkir fighting spirit, I truly do, but what you’re suggesting is impossible. It would take an army, and numbers are something we just don’t have.”

  I bit my lip as I looked into his somber eyes. He seemed to feel the same way I did. The inevitable extinction of Ancient Bloodlines weighed my heart with sadness and desperation, but I couldn’t take no for an answer. “Do not give up before you have even tried.”

  He furrowed his brow. “Is that why you came this way? Were you seeking the Secara as allies?”

  I lifted my chin. “Yes.”

  Cypress looked away and gave a humorless laugh. “We are not fighters like your people.”

  I stepped closer and stared into his eyes. “When there is something worth saving, anyone can learn to fight.”

  He held my gaze for a long moment. The hissing rain quieted, and the sunlight broke through the clouds, illuminating a small patch of ground just inside the cave. Saven slithered forward and peeked outside. “The storm is gone.”

  “I admire your determination, Valieri, but I don’t know if my people can help you.”

  I swallowed hard and held my retort. Did he not share my belief that the world would be better without the City in charge? Did he not think the clans deserved a better life? “I hope your solitude has not allowed you to become complacent,” I finally said. “Safety is not promised forever.”

  Without another word, I turned and left the cave, Saven quick on my heels.

  “Do not be discouraged,” he told me. “If we cannot convince the Secara to help, we will just continue searching for others.”

  “
If they will let us find them,” I said worriedly.

  I followed the path back to the main trail. When Cypress caught up to me, he silently took the lead. The only sound was the swish of damp leaves against our legs, until the bugs came out of hiding and hummed in the humid air. My mind wandered until Saven’s voice returned me to reality.

  “Those aren’t bugs.”

  I froze and looked up at him. He flicked his tongue and turned to the sky. The hum grew louder until it was the unmistakable sound of whirring engines heading our way.

  “Cypress!” I gasped. “Airships!”

  Chapter 3

  Cypress’s eyes went wide. “We need to warn the villagers. Hurry!”

  We sprinted towards the village, dodging tree branches and running through the brush. I had spent most of my childhood playing at the edge of the Northern Forest, but Cypress had lived in this environment his entire life. He seemed to know exactly where each rock and bush was going to be long before we reached it. He made rushing through the woods look easy; never once rolling his ankles or running into low branches.

  The first person we saw as we entered the village was an old man pushing a wheelbarrow full of vegetables.

  “Airships!” Cypress called.

  The man jolted to attention, set down the wheelbarrow in the middle of the road, and hurried towards the garden shouting, “Airships!”

  We jogged onward, and with each person we warned, they passed the message along until shouts of “airships” echoed from every direction. Rather than run into their homes, the Secara moved in an organized and rehearsed fashion to specific areas of the village. Many flocked to the garden where the sky was open for all to see.

  “What are they doing?” I panted. “Why isn’t everyone hiding?”

  We stopped at the far edge of the village, along the rock wall dotted with caves. “Watch,” Cypress said.

  He placed his palms against the rocky wall and exhaled slowly. The gesture was echoed by each person I could see, some also pressing their palms to the wall, others standing by trees or placing their hands on the ground. A second later, everything shifted and changed.