Charise squeezes my hand while Lila pats my knee as if to encourage me. Except what if Tor’s and my request to be matched isn’t approved, and I’m to be married off to a stranger?
Or worse, someone I hate.
Panic claws up my throat. Desperately, I combed the room for Tor. His jaw is clenched, and his eyes are focused in controlled fury, but not on Stefan, on the dark-clothed figure standing in the shadows.
The Paladin.
“Before the matches are announced, there is one other matter,” Stefan says. “Our great Proctor, Head Paladin of our most cherished Isle of Eden, will come forward to share this last piece of information with you.”
The hooded figure glides to the stage center, his robe swooping behind him. The murmuring halts and every eye is glued to our great leader. It’s rare for any of the five Paladins to leave their temple, and the sight of Proctor here warns of doom, weighing heavily on us all.
“Greetings,” Proctor says in a deep, aged-filled voice. “We must not let the destruction of the Lillian plants become the death of us. We are the race of the Chosen Ones, brought to Eden to keep humankind from extinction. Just like the rest of you, we Paladins are also affected by the loss of so many of our beloved plants.
“Therefore, tomorrow night the Magic will select five apprentices to follow in our footsteps. Their first assignment will be to restore the health of the few remaining Lillian plants and ensure the safety of all those in Eden. The ceremony will take place at the Seeing Stones on the peak of Sacred Mountain. All are invited.”
Proctor steps aside, but no one dares make a sound. Without the Lillian plant to keep us from sickness, we’re doomed. One cloud carrying the deathly sickness could turn those of us not resistant into Hollows. According to the ancient stories, all it takes is one Hollow to decimate an entire clan. How can newly appointed apprentices even help with this hopeless situation?
Stefan returns to the center of the area and clears his throat. “Now for the reading of the matches,” he proclaims.
I clutch Charise’s hand and wait for what feels like my death sentence. Lala’s and Jaton’s match is announced and she squeals. I hug her, telling how happy I am for her, but it’s hard to focus when my name hasn’t been announced. Finally, he calls out, “Tara of the Cultivator Clan shall be matched with Baldar of the Cultivator Clan.”
“Baldar?” I whisper in a choked voice.
No. Not Balder. I’m supposed to be with Tor. He’s the one I love. Balder is a nice enough man, but we’ve hardly ever spoken, and I know for a fact his eyes are always on Patricia, enthralled by her fiery red hair. How is this happening? There must be a mistake.
The gong strikes across the hall, jerking me back to this new, harsh reality. Lala is saying something to me before leaving. Charise and my parents are talking to me, but there’s a humming in my ears. I’m frozen in horror, knowing I’m about to marry a man who I don’t love.
“Tara,” Mother says, looking down at me, her forehead pinching with worry. “Are you okay?”
Everyone was already getting up to head back to their clans.
“No,” I whisper. I’m not okay at all. “What just happened?”
“Balder is…nice,” Charise says, but her mouth puckers up like saying that tasted sour. “He’s just…boring. And he really could take a bath once in a while.”
“Boring is good and anyone can learn to bathe,” Mother says. A grimace appears on her face for a brief second but vanishes. “It’s a good match, and you should be grateful. You’ll be close to home and to us. You’re very fortunate.”
Except I feel anything but fortunate. In fact, I feel like someone came and ripped out my insides, leaving me empty and confused. I should get up, but I’m rooted to the stone bench, rubbing my thumb over my palm, feeling the trickling heat beneath my skin.
“She needs to get up,” Father tells my mother. “Proctor is watching us.”
“Come.” Mother takes my hand and pulls me up gently like I’m a little child again. “Enough of this. You promised you wouldn’t make a scene.”
She’s right. I’m an adult citizen of Eden except why does that feel like a prison sentence? Tor appears at the bottom of the stairs and climbs toward me with that assured gait of his, like we haven’t been torn apart. His tunic flaps carelessly, free of the wide belt that most of the Woodcutters wear around their waist to hold their axes and work tools. Stubble has appeared on his face, but his easy gait doesn’t fool me. His jaw is tight, and his neck muscles are strained.
“We need to talk.” Tor glances at my parents and Charise. “Alone if we could.”
My heart skips. “I’ll be with you soon,” I tell them.
“We’ll wait for you by the gate,” Mother says, but her eyes narrow in suspicion.
“I can’t believe this,” I whisper to Tor. “It’s not fair. We need to appeal it.”
“Now, we aren’t merely being treated like animals, caged away in our clan walls, but we must be forced to marry someone we don’t love. I’ve had enough of this.”
“Keep your voice down,” I hiss and nod to where Proctor is below, talking to the clanmasters. “If they heard you speak like that, you’d get in trouble. Come on. I know a better place to talk.”
Quickly, I lead Tor to a supply room. I keep the door slightly ajar to allow a stream of light inside, but it’s dark enough to give us privacy.
“I can’t do this match thing,” Tor says, drawing me to him. “I refuse. Even the sheep in the pastures have more freedom than we do.”
I rest my head against his solid chest. The steady rhythm of his heart pulses against me. Being wrapped in his arms, safe and secure, I can almost imagine that somehow everything will turn out fine. The Paladins will find the cure for the Lillian plants, and I won’t have to marry boring, smelly Baldar and produce babies with him while his eyes follow Patricia like she’s the moon.
I shudder at my future.
“What is it?” Tor asks.
“The Maker wouldn’t have wanted a place where we were forced to marry people we didn’t love. If the new apprentices find the cure, it could solve everything.”
“Not everything. The Paladins have grown old in their temple and are out of touch with the island. There are better ways to run things here in Eden.”
“Why does it sound like you are planning on making that happen?” I ask, drawing back, alarmed. “I don’t agree with everything that the Paladins decide, but Eden wouldn’t still be here if it weren’t for them. As much as I hate their rules, we owe them everything.”
“Do we?” He studies me. “What if there were other options?”
“What do you mean?” Uneasiness swims in my stomach. “You’re not planning on causing trouble, are you?”
“Did someone say trouble?” The door creaks open, spilling in a thick band of light. Rune swaggers inside. His bare arms rippling with muscle and his chiseled features made it hard not to look at him.
Tor and I jump away from each other. Unmatched individuals are forbidden to touch.
“Why are you here?” I lash out at him, hating that he caught us in the act.
“I’ve come to talk you out of any senseless decisions you’re thinking of making.” Rune grins wickedly like he knows exactly what we’re up to. “And to mention the Sentries are clearing out the Arena. Whatever you’re conspiring, you should hurry and finish it up.”
“We aren’t conspiring,” Tor says.
“Whatever you say.” Rune moves next to me and leans against the shelf.
“You’re staying?” I ask with a glare. “Shouldn’t you be out doing sentry things?”
“I can’t resist a conspiratorial conversation.”
“He’s right,” Tor says. “Your family is waiting for you.”
He walks outside with me, but leans in close, whispering. “We should leave tomorrow night after the Selection Ceremony. There will be so many Clansfolk traveling down the mountain paths, it will be easy to slip away in the dark, unnoticed.”
“Are you serious?” I ask, halting in my tracks. “Where would we go?”
“To the Wilds. No one will be expecting it. Plus, the Ceremony is going to be held on top of Sacred Mountain. It’s not far from the border.”
I rub my thumb over my palm. Sacred Mountain borders the Wilds. Tor is right. It’s the perfect opportunity.
“But the Wilds,” I whisper. “They’re dangerous.”
“I want to be with you,” Tor says. “Not with Rosalie.”
The mention of her name stabs my heart. To know it will be her in his arms and not me makes me want to scream.
“You two can’t be serious,” Rune scoffs, clapping a hand on our either shoulder. “That’s the stupidest idea of the century.”
Terror spikes through me. He heard us? We should’ve been more careful.
Tor glares at him. “Are you going to report us?”
“You two would make the worst rogues.” Rune rolls his eyes. “But no. I’m not exactly looking forward to this match thing myself.”
“I don’t trust the Wilders.” I cross my arms, glancing about to see if anyone else is listening. “If it weren’t for Rune, that Wilder would have killed me.”
“Gutted more like it,” Rune mutters.
“Shut up,” I snap at Rune.
Tor runs his hands through his dark hair. “In the Wilds, we can choose who to marry, and I can make my own decisions without a Sentry breathing down my neck.” He glares pointedly at Rune.
“You don’t know that,” I throw back. “You don’t know anything about the Wilds.”
“I heard they’re cannibals,” Rune says lightly. “Ghost walkers. Demons possessed by Hollow’s souls.”
“You don’t really believe Storyteller’s tales,” Tor scoffs.
“There must be another way,” I say. “I’m going to talk to Ruban, my clanmaster, and appeal the match.”
“I’m with her on this,” Rune says.
“You’re not in on this at all,” I remind him.
“The last time a patrol was sent past the border, they disappeared,” Rune continues. “There wasn’t a trace of what happened to them. Not even a footprint. Tell me that isn’t creepy.”
Tor dips his head, so his hair curtains his face, making it hard to read his expression. But I don’t need to see his face. He’s set on going.
“I can’t believe you’re considering this option,” I say.
“If we do this, will you help us?” Tor asks Rune. “You owe me.”
Rune swears and runs his hands through his hair. “Fine. But then we’re even.”
“Tomorrow.” Tor brushes my fingers lightly. “Wear a second layer of clothes. Don’t tell a soul.”
Tor’s voice wraps around me like a thick blanket. If we left, we could be together. I want that more than anything, don’t I? But what about my family and clan? They need me, too. How can I abandon them? Charise has always been there for me. What kind of person would I be if I left her behind without even saying goodbye?
“Please, Tara,” Tor begs. “I don’t want to go without you.”
My heart flips as the truth floods me like I’ve been doused by a wave. He’s going to leave. With or without me. He’s been my world for the last two years. I can’t imagine life without him.
I lick my lips, finally saying, “I’ll think about it.”