Oriana's Eyes Read online

  The discussion halts as smooth wooden bowls are passed down the table. The procession stops once everyone has received their share. I hold my own gently between my hands. It’s warm, and the smell of the steamy contents wafts over me. The others have grown quiet as they dive into their food, and I allow myself the first savory sip. Lifting the bowl to my lips, I taste a thick stew, a creamy vegetable broth. I place the almost empty bowl on the table and reach for a piece of grain bread from the row laid out along the center of the table. After one bite, I find it to be both flavorful and sweet. The scents and tastes are so new, unlike the bland grit I am used to. I see Dorian cleaning the last of his bowl with a piece of bread and follow his example.

  “I am not denying the situation,” Tor begins again, taking a gulp from his glass to clear his throat. Conversation has begun to pick up throughout the room. “A plan must be decided upon, yet there is much that still needs to be discussed. I have no intentions of rushing into this.”

  “But we do not have the time to continue discussing at the speed of growing trees!” Azura speaks up and then lowers her voice. “We need to act quickly. Dorian is the only half-blood we’ve got, and I don’t see any in our future. If we miss this chance, it’s the end of us.” Azura struggles to drive her point home, and Tor nods gravely in agreement.

  “If he even is a half-blood as we think …” Liam mutters under his breath, loud enough for us to hear. Azura rolls her eyes in exasperation.

  I glance at Dorian to see his reaction and notice that he seems to be used to this accusation. He nods, “You’re right, we can’t be sure; but there’s only one way to find out. It’s a chance we must take.”

  Tor sighs heavily. “We’ll discuss this more tomorrow. It’s been a busy day, and I’m sure you’re all as tired as I am.” As he stands, I notice that others along the table have begun to leave as well, and the place has emptied and grown quieter. Tor addresses the passing people, wishing them a good night and pleasant sleep.

  Finally he turns to us. “Sleep well friends. There is nothing to worry about. I am certain we will find a way.” He grins sleepily before heading off toward an exit at the opposite side of the structure.

  Dorian and the others linger a moment in silence before standing as well. He glances at Azura with irritation that she smugly accepts blame for. I stand beside him, feeling the pull of my muscles as they reluctantly come into action once again. I’m extremely tired and ready to put the new issues aside until I am better rested. The discussion was disquieting, and I’m still not sure what they are planning. Still, I feel that danger is close at hand, though for what purpose or in what form, I do not know.

  I begin to head past Dorian toward the exit, checking to make sure he is following. He is all too eager to leave. I notice Azura and Liam heading in our direction as well. I reach the doorway first, and Dorian and Azura come face to face. They pause, making eye contact for a moment long enough to make my blood heat. Her eyes tell me I’m not simply overreacting, and her hand tentatively brushes his arm.

  At that I swipe the flap aside and rush into the night. The frigid air striking me in the face like a cold damp hand. A fury rises within me, though not of my hatred of Odon or the University. It’s not the disappointment or betrayal of Lenora, or the disgust at Aurek’s rough grip. This anger is completely different from the others, one I have never felt before.

  Dorian bursts from the tent behind me, his eyes searching the night. My white robe and light hair betray me, and he settles at the sight of me. Azura is not far behind, and her contorted face reveals everything she is feeling. She’s followed by Liam, who scuffs the ground and strides quickly away grumbling beneath his breath. He doesn’t even look at me as he sweeps past, nearly hitting me in the shoulder. His form slowly blends into the darkness as he leaves the light of the building and is lost to sight around the bend of the tree.

  Azura does not seem to notice him at all. “How could you betray us? Our home? Us!” The tears in her eyes reflect the glow of the dying flames from within the building. I can see her ankle has been bandaged and now notice that she leans upon a wooden crutch tucked under her arm. She refuses to show any weakness in her stride.

  Dorian shakes his head. “You betray yourself when you blame others for your hatred.” She falters, and he reaches toward her to help her regain balance. I back away, my heart leaping, and hide my twisted expression in the shadows. At his touch Azura softens. She gives him that look, the one from before, a look that can mean nothing else but love.

  He steps back, retrieving his hand as if he has made a mistake. I see Azura lose control.

  “I realized a while back that you and I would never come to pass.” She trembles, taking a shaky breath. “But I can’t stand to see you with someone like her!” She points at me, and every word bristles with the power of her pent-up rage. I flinch at the sound.

  Gripping her staff tightly Azura rushes away at a speed that must be causing her a great deal of pain, although she does not show it. Once she is around the edge of the platform and out of sight, Dorian turns to me with a sigh.

  “I never meant for you to hear that.” He walks toward me, letting his black hair fall over his eyes, “She has … a lot of anger. I don’t think she’ll ever get over it.” He reaches up to clasp his forehead in his palm and collapses against the side of the tree.

  “I wish she could see how much we are alike, Azura and I.” I place my fingers against the oak, running them along its textured surface, feeling its complexity and letting it guide me through its crevices.

  I see half of Dorian’s face, which is still illuminated by the distant fire. He looks over to me solemnly. “No, Oriana, you are not the same.” He struggles for words, “Her hatred for purebloods runs deep. That’s no better than everyone at the University. Oriana, you don’t complete the circle of hatred. I think instead you seek to change yourself, to grow by seeing both sides of the story.”

  I realize there is truth in what he says, yet I wonder if it is really the best way to live. Am I growing, or refusing to face my true feelings by compromising for everyone else?

  He speaks no more as we head down the platform. I follow closely, not enjoying the utter blackness and the feeling that my foot may step past the edge at any moment. My eyes eventually become accustomed to the dark, and I’m able to see that we have reached a rope ladder leading upward to another platform. Grateful that I can see how far I must climb, I start ascending without objection. Upon this next platform sit a row of cottages of thatch and wood, some glowing from fires lit within.

  Dorian walks past these and to another ladder, which takes us further into the limbs of the Great Oak. The next two platforms, reached by way of two more ladders, contain similar cottages, situated sideways so that they hug the tree as the dining structure had. I notice the trees branches have thinned to about half the size of the lower ones, though still too massive to wrap my arms around. By the third ladder and platform I am more exhausted than I’ve ever imagined I could be. I’m relieved when Dorian stops in front of a cottage to open its flap door and guide me inside.

  It’s even darker within, and I stand frozen for a moment to let my eyes adjust. Dorian walks to the corner of the room, rustling some items in search of something in the dark. There is a snap and then a buzz as fire bursts into life within his hands, and the room brightens to an orange glow. Dorian reaches for a square box that appears to be a paper lamp. He extends the fire, which is lit upon a dried stick, into the lamp and lights the center. The fire sits placidly inside the lamp, and Dorian extinguishes the stick with a sharp gesture. He turns back to me. “This will be your room. It’s not much, but it can become home.”

  Now that my eyes have adjusted to the light, I look around. There’s a bed laid out on the floor, different than what I am used to. The mattress is a rough cloth stuffed with what smells like soft grass, and there is a thicker cloth laid over as a blanket. I’m immediately taken by its humbleness and am pleased to call it my own. />
  “Do you like it?” Dorian asks doubtfully.

  I laugh. How can I not love a place beneath the stars, held in the arms of nature herself, far away from the white of the University walls? I have only been within it barely a moment, and it feels more like home than the University ever did. “Of course, I love it.”

  Dorian grins. “Good, I’ll be just in the next cottage, if you need anything. The flame should burn out in a short while.” He begins to head for the door.

  I hurry toward him before he can leave. “Dorian?”

  He stops immediately to face me.

  “I wanted to thank you for what you’ve given me.” I want him to stay with me.

  Dorian doesn’t say anything. He takes me in his arms, holding me in his warmth. Making it impossible for me to ever let go. His hand smoothes back my hair, and I think I might not be able to stand if he walks away. I nearly forget to ask him. I pull away slightly.

  “What were they talking about? At dinner, the plans, and you—”

  “Oriana.” He kisses my forehead and then stares closely into my eyes. “That is for another time. For now, I need you to trust me.” He pauses, taking a slow breath. “I need you to know that—” His jaw clenches on his words. Finally he whispers, “Good night,” before slipping from the cottage.

  I stand a moment in confusion and disappointment, watching the spot where he just stood. A chill creeps over me, and I seek the warmth of my bed. Once beneath the blankets, I find my troubles and the world seeping away. As the flame takes its last breath, I slip into darkness.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I can’t escape them, the blue piercing eyes. They follow me wherever I run, wherever I try to hide in this black abyss. They see my every movement, surrounding me, blocking my attempts to reach freedom. The eyes bore into me, not only looking at my face but cutting through me, seeing my soul.

  They laugh, and the sound vibrates in my ears, causing me to fall. There is nothing beneath me, and I hurtle downward, the cackling clouding my thoughts and blocking any resistance. I reach out for something, anything to grab before I reach my death. Below I see them, watching me descend rapidly, those crystal eyes. They know there is no one to rescue me, no one to swoop down and snatch me from the air, to keep those eyes from swallowing me, taking control of my every thought and movement. I cry out, screaming to find a way to escape them.

  My eyes snap open, and I sit up in bed. The sound of a scream is dying away, and I realize it has come from my own mouth. I’m breathing heavily, and cold sweat drips off my forehead onto my hand, which clutches the blanket. I look around, slowly remembering yesterday’s events and why I’m here in a foreign place. I remember fear, trying to escape, but from what I can’t recall. The more I try to, the more it seems to sink into my subconscious.

  I turn my attention to the sunlight streaming in through the heavy cloth flap that is folded slightly inward. It moves slowly in and out with the breeze. Running my hand through my hair a few times, I get to my feet, slipping them into the sandals I kicked off sometime during the night. I stand in the doorway a moment soaking in the rays, but something spoils the moment, making it seem not quite real. I feel burdened still, despite finally getting a night’s rest. In fact, I feel weaker than usual.

  I start for Dorian’s cottage, hoping to wipe the disturbing thought from my mind. I’ve almost reached his doorway when I notice Malise walking toward me. She holds the hand of her younger brother, and Toby follows behind. He notices me first.

  “Good morning,” he says cheerfully.

  He looks away shyly as I smile back. “Hello.”

  Malise looks up at me as her brother waves.

  “You’re the pureblood Oriana,” he states innocently. Malise tugs on his arm.

  I approach, bending over to reach his level. “Yes, I am, and you might be …?”

  “M’name’s Aaron,” he replies confidently, ignoring his sister’s eagerness to continue away.

  “Well, nice to meet you, Aaron. I suppose you’re off to somewhere important, so I’ll see you another time.” With a quick wave, I start for Dorian’s door again.

  Before I reach it, Malise calls, “Dorian has already left. Tor held an early meeting.”

  I turn, sure disappointment is all over my face. “Oh …” The word escapes in a rush of air.

  “If you’d like …” Toby begins, “you can come with us. We’re going to help forage for food.”

  Malise hesitates for a moment. “Yes, you should join us. Who knows how long the meeting will last? They may talk for hours. We’ll show you around.”

  Aaron nods in earnest.

  I follow them across the platform and down the rope ladder. We continue downward until we reach the lowest platform, which holds the curved dining hall. The building’s doors have been tied open so that a cool breeze rushes through it, and we can smell freshly baked breads. The others hurry toward it, and I follow willingly, the feeling of hunger striking me as well.

  Once we’re inside, the source of the smell is clear. The long wooden table has been adorned with wooden platters filled with fresh breads in all kinds of shapes. Some contain fresh berries that burst in my mouth with a warm tartness. I sample everything my stomach will allow: scones, twists, and breads filled with fruit and walnuts.

  I’m relieved when we’ve reached the other side and the tables of food have come to an end. We reenter the sunlight filled to bursting. Malise leads the way to the final ladder. I grumble to myself. I was afraid foraging for food might mean climbing back down the ladder I painfully climbed only yesterday.

  Malise reaches the ladder and instructs her brother to wait until she has made it a few rungs down. Aaron starts down once his sister calls to him. When he has gone a fair distance, I take a deep breath assuring myself that my second experience will be as successful as the first. I take my first steps and gain the confidence to move quickly. Before long my foot touches soft earth. I step away from the ladder, holding my breath to steady myself and stop my head from spinning. I find Malise and Aaron waiting not far behind me.

  Once Toby joins us, we head down the hillside I climbed the day before. Soon Malise turns aside from the route I remember. We shortly reach a tumbling brook that snakes its way at an angle from us. Once reaching its mossy bank, Malise picks her way upon the large smooth stones that interrupt the rushing waters. Her brother hops playfully from stone to stone, humming a tune to himself. The rocks seem slippery in the morning sun, and I eye them warily. I place a foot upon the nearest stone, testing its reliability before putting my weight on it. My foot holds, and I continue on, my steps turning into light taps to the melody of Aaron’s murmured song.

  As we continue downward, Malise still in the lead and Toby following behind me, I notice that the woods on either side have become extremely dense. The brook is a clear-cut path through the brush, which is why stone hopping is the most practical way to travel. As the sun reaches its peak, the thick forest opens into a broad field full of blooming wildflowers. The water slices through it and continues on through the trees below. I maneuver my way to the grassy embankment and cross the water, taking a final leap from my rock island to land on the soft ground.

  I notice others across the field. Some are collecting flowers and herbs, while others meander through the bordering forest gathering nuts and fruits. Malise begins to pick her way through the high brush, her hands searching through the stalks. Finally she plucks a purple flower upon a long stalk. She hands it to her brother, who runs over and presents it to me proudly.

  “This is lavender. My sister says it’s your job to get it,” he states matter-of-factly.

  I smile and take the flower by its stem. I inspect it closely, twirling it around to study its shape.

  Aaron rummages in a side pocket of his oversized cloth shirt and pulls out a square sack made from the same tan material. He extends it toward me. “Here, use this.”

  “Thank you.” I take the sack and, after memorizing the flower, place
it delicately inside.

  We head off in different directions. I turn to watch Toby head toward a group of other young part-bloods. My eyebrows rise as I notice that they’ve been distracted from their work. They stand pointing and laughing as two boys have decided to wrestle one another playfully down the slope of the field.

  I smile to myself, feeling the sun on my cheeks and the buzz of bees whirring by. As I search the ground, my mind trails off into a series of questions. What exactly is Tor’s early meeting about?

  I find a cluster of lavender plants amid the grass. I decide to take a seat alongside them, laying them inside the cloth sack carefully.

  What do their plans have to do with the Rebirth? More important, what do they have to do with Dorian being a half-blood? I had heard those two girls talking about it as well. Is there some reason that everyone is so concerned with him?

  The frustration causes me to toss a yellow flower into the bag. I sigh, rummaging through the purple ones to pull it out.

  “You must be Oriana.” Two girls have come up to me before I noticed them. The speaker has a sweet smile, perhaps trying a little too hard to be nice. The other stands awkwardly behind her, fumbling with a cloth sack that is half-full.

  I get to my feet to greet them. “Yes, I am, and you might be …?”

  “Oh!” I can’t tell if she is surprised that I’m actually speaking or that she has not introduced herself. “Well, I’m Lily, and this is Piper.”

  Piper smiles weakly and nods at the sound of her name, yet remains silent.

  Lily grabs a strand of light brown hair and twists it around her finger. I can tell she is about to ask something of me from the way she hesitates.