Chapter 7 – The Moment
Despite quite amorous dreams of Brian during the night, I manage to be up early enough to wash and comb my hair. I don’t normally comb my hair. It’s always in a tangle and I usually prefer it that way. Today, however, I spare the effort. Yesterday marked a watershed for me. There is still a little ache in my heart, the part that misses Skye and dreams of Brian, and the thought of becoming mayor, but I’m confident that I’m getting past that now. I’m happy for the first time since I came home from my Journey. I now have something to work toward, to occupy my thoughts. I will learn to use the bow and I will be good at it.
While I’m tugging on my boots, I hear a loud crash next door. Someone is in Skye’s room. They are looting! Either that or she’s back, just like most of us predicted would happen. Curious, I leave my own quarters and knock on her door.
A boy a little younger than me answers. He has brown skin and no hair on his head. I know him, of course. It’s Flynn Tennant-Casper, whose family had moved into The Glass Palace two years ago. I don’t know him that well, haven’t even spoken to him, though I’m pretty sure one of his sisters had put in a betrothal bid to marry me.
“What do you want?” he snarls with a scowl. He looks like he’s just gotten up, and there is a mess of sheets on the floor behind him.
“What are you doing in here?” I demand. I’m so outraged I can barely control my anger.
“Why do you want to know?”
“Skye lives here.”
“She’s dead,” says Flynn, outclassing me in coldness.
“She’s not dead! She’s starting her own House and what if she comes back here and finds someone has moved into her quarters?”
“She’s not coming back. You can have her stuff if you want. I’m only going to dump it in supplies.”
I can’t believe he’s saying this. He has no right to put all Skye’s belongings into supplies. Skye would be horrified to find people pawing through her stuff!
“Fine. I’ll take the lot. Don’t damage anything.”
“It’s a load of crap anyway,” he says, slamming the door in my face.
I’ve never felt more infuriated in my life. My hands are bunched into fists and I really, really want to hit something; preferably, something called Flynn.
I bump into Brian and Lottie at the giant notice board in the center of The Glass Palace. I give it a quick cursory glance, assuming there won’t be much to pique my interest, but I’m proven wrong. Aside from Rooster and Rosa’s wedding notice, there is a note from a recent returnee. He reports that a recent god clash has leveled the city of Bradford. Watchers estimate the city had been destroyed in less than a minute. The same returnee had also visited Liverpool, where the House of Stone had recently welcomed refugees from North America. Apparently the entire state of Florida had been cracked in half; thousands had died. The blame lay at the feet of the gods again. It seems they are becoming quite aggressive lately.
Brian and Lottie are inspecting a small note, which I can’t quite make out. I edge closer to see; a family is giving away a crib that they don’t need any more as their baby has died from pneumonia. I recall hearing about baby Cyan Reich-Casper’s death.
“I’m not sure I could put a baby of mine in something that another baby died in,” Lottie remarks. “I think it’ll cause bad luck.”
“It’ll be a perfectly good crib,” says Brian.
“I’m sorry but I won’t use it.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. They’d only been married just over a week and Lottie is pregnant already! The thought of him being with someone else revolts me. Wait a minute; hadn't I vowed to put this stupid crush behind me?
I walk up and give them a genuine smile. I suppose they do make a nice couple. They’d sure have nice babies anyway.
“Are you pregnant?” I ask Lottie.
“I’m not entirely sure but I have been getting some morning sickness lately.” Lottie squeals in delight. I’ve never seen anyone look so ecstatic before in my life. “I think I might be a month gone.”
I’m about to add that they’ve only been married eight days but decide to keep my opinions to myself.
“That’s wonderful,” I proclaim, surprising myself that I’m genuinely pleased for them. “Have you told your parents?”
“I told them earlier today. It was such a nice surprise for them!”
She kisses Brian on the cheek, tells him she’s going home, and skips away. I mean literally skips. Lottie was in such a buoyant mood, I half expected her to float. It is very, very hard right then not to like her.
“You’ll feel like this one day,” says Brian, clapping me on the shoulder in a fatherly way. He’s only eighteen months older than me! “You’ll get married and you’ll experience the joys of fatherhood. Just you wait!”
“I don’t think I’ll ever get married,” I sulk.
“I know you had some trouble adjusting to being back here, which is why you called off all the betrothal bids, but if I were you I’d get back in there. You never know what might happen.”
“I suppose,” I grumble.
It’s then that I catch a whiff of something. Brian is close to me and, remembering what Lottie had complained of earlier, I sniff him. His sweat invades my nostrils and stirs something within me so primal I can barely contain myself. I have never been so aroused in all my life.
Right now I can’t see a future without Brian in it. He is advising me to find somebody. I can deny it all if I want to. I can try to push the feelings aside and forget about him. He smells so good and I know deep inside that I’m in love with Brian and I don’t want to not feel it. Why should I?
For our first lesson, Brian guides me to a small archery range he’s set up next to the forest. He is the most skilled archer in the House and is often called upon to teach new recruits, even sometimes from other Houses and villages. For some insane reason I imagine I’m the only one who has him as a teacher, that he is a special gift solely for me. As it turns out, his wife and at least five others are under his excellent tutelage. I’m not so special after all, but for now I have Brian all to myself.
He gives me one of his old bows to start with. Later on he will teach me to make my own, a bow that fits my own specifications. I figure it will be quite easy. The bow and the slingshot aren’t that different from each other.
Brian is amused by my arrogance, which makes me feel foolish. I will wow him with my ability!
“Show me what you can do,” he teases, grinning.
“I will surprise you.”
I don’t surprise him. Aiming is considerably more difficult with the bow. The bow is a great big unwieldy thing that’s designed to make firing an arrow as difficult as possible. I keep shooting my arrows all over the place. Not one of them hits the very large, very red target. It’s embarrassing. My face reddens and I feel like a failure, even though Brian never jokes about my incompetence. He just laughs a bit.
“It’s not funny,” I sulk. “There’s something wrong with my bow.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the bow.” He comes closer to me, making me feel more nervous. “The bow just needs to be used properly.”
“I’m trying. I’m really trying. I’m used to using my slingshot and I thought they would be similar.”
“Learn to use every weapon as if you’ve never touched another in your life,” Brian tells me. He holds his own bow in front of my face, turning it around for me to inspect. “No weapon is the same. If you knew how to fire a gun, you wouldn’t necessarily know how to stab someone with a knife.”
“Can you teach me how to use a gun?” I ask, a little excited. We have guns but they’re locked up tight and only used in dire emergencies. Our bullet supply is strictly limited and only certain people are allowed to use our guns. Bullets are on everybody’s shopping list when they head outside, but it’s very hard to find any.
“Even I don’t know how to use a gun,” says Brian. He seems to be a little peeved.
“Your father only allows certain people to use them.”
“I’ll have a word with my father. I’m sure I can get him to help you.”
Brian blushes. “Thanks. I’d like that.”
I hold onto his gratitude like it is the greatest gift in the universe.
“Let’s get on with it,” says Brian.
After an hour, I figure I’m getting familiar with the mechanics of the bow. I hit the target now, just barely, and I’m proud of that. The only thing that starts to hinder my progress is my arms. They ache abominably and need a rest before we continue any further. Brian tells me we aren’t done yet when I beg for respite. He’s certainly a hard taskmaster, though I don’t find it makes him any less attractive in my eyes. He wants me to master this craft and I love that he pushes me, even though I’m tired.
He hands me a small towel to wipe the sweat off, and after I’ve finished, I take a swig of water from my flask.
“You need to drink more water,” says Brian.
“I forget.”
Another hour passes and I’m at breaking point. I’m firing off arrow after arrow. When I’m done with that, I have I go over to the target, pick all the fallen arrows up, go back, and start firing them all over again. It’s hard work and I’m on the verge of collapsing but it’s worth it.
As I put another arrow in place, ready to go further, and try to aim for the middle of the target, I pull the string back and feel a muscle explode in my arm. I scream in pain and shoot the arrow off. It flies wide of the target and rockets into the trees. Inside the forest, a voice yells in surprise.
Brian looks at me. “I think you hit someone.”
“Did you have other students watching us that I didn’t know about?” I ask him, a little annoyed but more concerned about the agony in my arm.
“No.” He sprints for the forest and I follow him. Something is very wrong here. Someone has been watching us, spying on us, and I might have accidentally killed him or her.
We search around the area where the arrow flew but find nothing at first. It’s only after a couple of minutes searching through the undergrowth that we find my arrow. Its tip is covered in blood and black fur, like that of an animal.
“It was a Felum,” says Brian, sniffing the blood. “I think... though it doesn’t smell like Felum blood.”
I don’t dare ask how he knows what Felum blood smells like. I only feel a great sense of guilt that I’ve harmed something, even if it was by accident.
“Why would a Felum be spying on us?” I wonder. “They’re not intelligent enough for something like that.”
“Maybe they are and we just don’t know it. We don’t know a thing about them; where they came from, what they think. What if they’re as intelligent as us but we were just too conceited to realize it?”
“They’re just bloodthirsty creatures acting on instinct,” I insist. “The Felum had probably wandered off from its tribe and got lost or something and thought we were an easy snack.”
Brian inspects the ground a tad more and says, “Maybe you’re right. But this bears looking into a bit more. I don’t ever want the House to be surprised.”
He sticks the bloody arrow back into his quiver and walks back out of the forest. I follow him and am about to inquire about what exactly the House does know about the Felum, when I hear a bush rustle a few feet behind me. I whip my head around and notice a blur out of the corner of my eye, a figure going behind a larger tree further in. It is definitely a Felum. It has some sort of bloody gash on its arm where the arrow must have hit. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear it is the same Felum that saved me from the gods. But why would he be hanging around the forest, watching me have archery lessons? It doesn’t make any sense. Maybe he really was a spy after all. Maybe he followed me back to The Glass Palace. Still, that doesn’t make any sense either. If this Felum had followed me back it would have led its tribe against us months ago.
“Are you coming?” Brian calls. He’s plucking all the arrows out of the target. It appears that he hasn’t heard the Felum rushing through the trees. For some reason that makes me glad. This Felum means me no harm, I can understand that much. Otherwise it would have killed me all those months ago. I don’t doubt that if it wants me dead, it could charge out and murder me now without too much effort. What does it want?
“You should get your shoulder looked at,” says Brian.
“Thanks,” I say absent-mindedly. I’m still gazing back into the forest, hoping to catch sight of the Felum again. “I will.”
He suddenly takes hold of my arms in his grip and begins to feel the muscles in my shoulder. I should wonder what he’s doing but I don’t want him to stop. His touch is like balm to my skin.
So I kiss him on the lips.
I have a moment to taste him before he pushes me away.
“What are you doing?” he roars.
“I thought you wanted me to kiss you.”
“I was trying to massage your muscles so it wouldn’t hurt as much,” states Brian, clearly more offended than I think he has a right to be. “I thought you knew I’d been trained in forms of massage therapy?”
I do know that, yes, but it must have slipped my mind as I felt his warm hands touching my body. I’m such an idiot. I’ve ruined everything. There is no way now he’ll consent to give me any more archery lessons!
“I’m sorry,” I plead, trying to look in his eyes. He won’t let me. “I’m really sorry.”
The sky is darkening above with rain clouds and the shadows they cast seem to mock my foolishness and me.
“What did you kiss me for?” he asks, calming down a bit.
I blush furiously. “It’s just that I... there was obviously a reason why I did it and I... please, Brian, don’t make me say it.”
I can’t tell him how I feel about him, not ever, even as he demands to know the truth. I just can’t say it.
Brian sighs. “I should have seen it. You weren’t strange with me because you thought I blamed you for Skye leaving, were you? You were in love with me and you didn’t want me marrying Lottie.”
I nod. I’m so ashamed of myself.
“I love Lottie,” Brian states loudly, almost shouting. “We’re married and have a baby on the way. You have to understand that I don’t love you.”
With my throat growing thicker and making it harder to breathe I say, “I think I know that now.”
“I’m sorry if I’m being cruel but it’s the truth.”
“There’s not even a chance you could like me that way?”
“Never.”
And just like that all my hopes are dashed. Brian orders me to come with him and tell Father about the Felum. He informs me that if I ever tell Lottie what I’ve done or if I try to kiss him again, then our friendship is over. I can’t bear to be near him and not be with him, so after we arrive back at The Glass Palace, I run straight back to my quarters and slam the door behind me. I never take the time to notice that Flynn has dumped all Skye’s belongings haphazardly all over my floor. I just climb in bed and cry.