The sentry and my horses trot down the path until the pines thin out. After hours of riding, my guardian veers his horse over to a lookout. We’re on top of a high bluff that dips into a valley, bright as garden leaves after the rain.
In the distance, the Temple gleams like a pearl from on top of a cliff. It looks exactly the same as it did when my clan came here for the Lantern Festival eight years ago.
I smile, remembering I asked Mother if the Temple was a snow-covered mountain because of its multi-layers. It has four levels stacked one on top of the other, each growing smaller the higher it rises. Below it, the edge falls to a ragged coast, so different from the smooth white beaches near my clan. The sea heaves and crashes against the Temple’s cliffs in an angry froth.
At the Academy, we were taught that in olden times, civilizations built towers that touched the clouds, but I can’t imagine any to be more magical than the Temple.
“Nearly there.” The sentry lifts his reins and makes a ‘haw’ sound.
The horse, as if sensing its stable, takes off at an even faster speed. I cling to my saddle’s horn and reins, praying I won’t die as we head down the mountain. We cut through the town, past the silkworm houses, the stone shops, the matchmaker’s hall, and the commissioner’s post.
Eventually, we merge into a cobblestone street that dead-ends at the Temple’s gate. On the other side of the gate, flowering vines cover the courtyard’s walls, and the cobblestones are perfectly groomed, not one weed poking through their cracks. I expect my sentry to stop and let me off.
Instead, he turns left at the white pillars and passes by the massive golden statue of the Lillian Tree. Seeing it brings back memories of the challa dance at the Lantern Festival. It was the only dance girls under fifteen were allowed to join. I had so much fun twirling around the statue, holding my ribbon so it streamed behind me like a sunbeam.
“The caretaker’s house is here.” The sentry halts his horse in front of a small gate. “Time to get off.”
Somehow, I manage to slide off my horse. I smooth my tunic over my pants, pat my windswept hair out of my eyes, and wipe off as much of the dust from my face as I can. Then I follow—more like wobble—after the sentry through the gate. The walled courtyard is made up of a garden peppered with tulips, daisies, and a cherry tree in bloom, its boughs hanging over a small pond. I brush my finger across one of the tree’s white petal’s smooth surface.
The gardeners glance up and, realizing who I am, stand and bow.
“No need to bow,” I tell them, smiling. “It’s good to meet you.”
The doubts about my belonging resurface. They shouldn’t be bowing to me. I’m nothing more than a gardener like them.
A tiny path leads us to a brick house. My guardian raps hard against the door. The door opens to a blonde woman with freckles scattered across her fair skin. She’s a little shorter than me, soft and warmly built, with a fullness that makes her seem both sturdy and kind. Her face is perfectly round, like a full moon.
“Tara, yes?” the woman says, bowing and all smiles. Eagerly, she pulls me inside before I even have the chance to say thank you to the sentry. “I was worried you’d never make it, but so you have, yes that’s true. Name is Genee and the Paladins asked me to prepare the two of you for the Initiation Ceremony tomorrow.”
“Two of us?” I ask.
“Amala and you. I hear you are to be our future Healer.”
“Healer,” I repeat. I haven’t thought about who I was to be an apprentice to. I’d been so focused on the mere fact of being an apprentice.
“Oh, and here you are.” Genee pushes the card into my hand. The paper is smooth against my rough hands.
Tara,
Welcome to the Temple, my new apprentice. I am eager to learn of your hidden talents. Do not disappoint me.
~Healer
The words blur as the full impact of her message hits me. Genee is right. I’m to be the next Healer! It’s everything I’ve ever wanted. To help others and make a difference in Eden. Yet, the words “do not disappoint me” read more like a threat.
Genee bustles to the large fireplace while I stand in the center of the room, twisting my hands around each other. Lost and disoriented don’t even sum up all the feelings crowding my mind.
The room has an airy feel thanks to the open windows, allowing the breeze to catch hold of the white gauze curtains. Unlike the packed dirt floors of the huts in my clan, this house has smooth wooden planks beneath my boots. As Cultivators, our clan lives as one with the earth, so flooring like this is forbidden. I’m tempted to reach down and sweep my hand over its polished surface, but Genee is already giving me odd sideways looks as she pours tea.
A door at the far side opens, and in strides Amala, her long purple dress swishing as she walks.
She grins at me and points to the note in my hand. “A bit of a surprise, was it?”
“Yes, I suppose so. You’ve been here for a while?”
“Not long,” she says with a dismissive wave. “Perhaps the first to arrive, though.”
“Have you seen the others?”
She grins. “He’s here, if that’s what you want to know.”
The gleam in her eye warns me she means Tor. I look away, wishing I weren’t so transparent.
“Are you all right?” Amala asks. “You look a little peaked.”
“Poor thing, she does. Here, now.” Genee hurries over and presses a cool cloth into my hand. “Use this to clean up from your ride and then drink this.”
I’m a little shocked at the pampering. Hard work and no complaining have been a part of my life since I can remember. But I take the cool cloth and the glass Genee hands me. Afterall, I should clean up and get refreshed if I’m to be able to stay alert. This whole day has been a little much. I sip my juice and resist the urge to blurt out the horrors of riding a horse. “Mango. Delicious.”
Genee calls us to the table where we join her on silk cushions. A full feast is spread out. Fruit, vegetables, and rice and fish wrapped in seaweed. As hungry as I am, I can’t help but wonder how close Tor is. When will I see him? Will things be different between the two of us now?
I finally break down and ask Genee where the other apprentices are at, trying to sound nonchalant. Obviously, I failed since Amala shoots me a knowing smirk.
“Over yonder.” Genee points out the window facing the courtyard. “Not that it’s my business.”
As soon as we finish our meal and help Genee clean up, I decide to find Tor. Maybe we can talk and figure out where our relationship stands. I need to know where his headspace is at.
“Would it be all right if I took a short walk?” I ask. “Explore this place a bit.”
Genee looks up from the sink of dishes, surprise on her face. “Don’t wander off or be too long. Proctor should be coming soon enough.”
I stiffen. Genee seems nice, but it’s like we’re being treated as children. Hopefully, that won’t last after we’re settled. Once outside, I scan the courtyard, shielding my eyes with the back of my hand. Which direction had she pointed?
“This way,” Amala says, joining me. She waves for me to follow her across the courtyard.
“How do you know where they are?”
“I make it my business to know everything.”
We squeeze through a narrow alleyway, swallowed by climbing vines. The leaves tickle my shoulders as I pass through. The sharp clang of metal cuts through the quiet, followed by the low rumble of male voices.
Tor and Rune. Amala halts at the alley’s end and presses a finger to her lips.
“I always learn more by listening first before I enter a situation,” she whispers.
We edge forward and peer around the corner. The alley spills out into a smaller courtyard, but this one doesn’t have any flowers or trees in it. Just packed dirt and a straw dummy that hangs from a beam in the center, its middle shredded from repeated blows. Along the stone wall is a rack of weapons and strange training tools I don’t recognize.
In the center of the courtyard stands Rune, bare-chested and swinging a wooden sword at a bamboo pillar with perfect sweeping arcs. Sweat slicks his hair back from his face. When he turns, his muscles flex and tighten beneath his bronzed skin.
Amala whistles softly. “Now that’s a sight. Too bad he isn’t so conceited.”
Unfortunately, it was the truth.
Tor is practicing in the corner, hitting a wooden pole back and forth with high and low blows with a sword. I wasn’t aware he’d been trained to use a sword, but he wields it naturally. The Magician man is also there. His cloak is wrapped tight around himself despite the heat as he strolls the perimeter of the courtyard as if trying to solve a difficult puzzle.
Tired of hiding, I step out of the alleyway.
“Good day,” I say, causing the three men to startle.
“Well.” Rune grins as he wipes sweat from his brow. “Look who decided to stop lurking.”
I arch a brow. “We weren’t lurking.”
“No?” His grin tilts wickedly. “Next time, I’ll give you a better demonstration.”
Rune is really getting on my nerves.
“Are you two supposed to be here?” the robed man asks, his forehead bunching up as he glances at the balcony.
“No one told us otherwise.” Amala strolls over to inspect the straw dummy, running her long fingers across its surface. “Besides, we could learn about what will be our new home.”
“More like our new prison if you ask me,” Rune says with a snort.
“We haven’t met,” the robed man says. “I’m Carter.”
Meanwhile, Tor has set aside his weapon and is hurrying toward us, a wide grin filling his face.
“Tara!” he says. “You made it.”
I stuff my hands behind my back, not sure what to do with them. What I really want to do is throw myself in his arms, sweaty and all, but that would be wrong.
Very wrong.
“How long have you been here?” I ask.
“Since midmorning.” Tor’s eyes sweep over me.
We stand in silence, at a loss for words. Or maybe all the words we need to say can’t be said here. Words only meant for dark places or beneath the shadows. Amala, Carter, and Rune continue talking while Tor and I step off to the side.
“At least this way we’ll be close.” Tor’s voice is low, meant only for me.
“It’s something,” I say. “My family and clan were happy I got chosen. They had this huge celebration before I left. And now I don’t have to marry Balder.”
“You would never have married Balder.” Tor’s voice is low and threatening.
I blink. “What are you saying?”
A clang of steel interrupts us, causing me to jump. Amala and Rune are faced off, each holding a sword, and circling the center of the courtyard. Good Maker. What are they doing?
“You think you’re brave and mighty,” Amala calls out to Rune, her green eyes burning like they could set him on fire. “Let me show you how a real fighter fights.”
Rune shakes his head, flinging sweat, and his long strands of hair slung out like a whirlwind. “I love a woman who can bring it on. See, Tara, every woman needs to be able to wield a weapon. Perhaps in your spare time, you’d like a tutoring session?”
I cross my arms. “I prefer to heal, not kill things.”
“You have no idea who you are dealing with,” Amala warns Rune, aiming the sword’s sharp point at him. Yelling, she jabs at Rune’s stomach, but with the ease of a cat, he sidesteps her.
“Enough!” a deep voice calls out from above.
On the balcony stands a cloaked figure. From the long protruding nose jutting out from under the hood, I guess it to be Proctor. A chill slithers over me. There’s something about him that feels unearthly, almost like death has its talons wrapped around him
“It is time for you to prepare for tomorrow’s Initiation Ceremony. There is much to do. Come and follow.”
Rune and Tor snatch their shirts while Amala tosses aside her sword. The five of us clamber up the stone steps to the balcony where Proctor waits. Once we’re close enough, he turns and takes off around the outer balcony that rings the exterior of the temple. We follow behind the sweeping black cape of Proctor.
“Tomorrow, Genee will prepare you two ladies and Fapir will prepare the three of you men,” Proctor explains at the base of a set of stone stairs. “Once ready, you will enter through here at midday.”
He opens a teak wooden door, and we trail after him through a corridor and another entryway.
“It is imperative that you remain composed and unruffled at all times,” he continues. “No matter if something goes wrong.”
“What could possibly go wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing.” Proctor clears his throat. “Nothing will go wrong. Because we live together in perfect harmony.”
His words sound rough and worn, as if he’s repeated that phrase too many times and now it’s lost its purpose.
“Remember, my apprentices.” Proctor turns and inspects us with a look that says he found us insufficient. I swallow hard. “The Maker has appointed us to protect the Clansfolk from the ways of those before us. Never forget how the ancients were violent. They created a dark and twisted world, which ultimately destroyed them. This is why the Maker brought us to this island. We are special, unlike the rest of humankind that died off.”
Across from me, Rune shifts as if uncomfortable with Proctor’s words, while Amala grins behind Proctor’s back, a gleam in her eyes as if she holds a secret of her own.
“We will go over the protocol for tomorrow.” Proctor waves for us to follow and takes off again. At the corner, I realize Tor hasn’t moved. His arms are crossed, jaw clenched. I hurry over to him and realize he’s staring out one of the windows. I touch his elbow.
“Do you regret staying?” I ask.
“No.” But his eyes tell me he’s lying.
“Being here gives us a chance to make things better.”
“Maybe.” He runs his hands over his face. “As long as we don’t become just like them.”
Dread clenches my chest. Those are the same words that my sister warned me of. Could there be truth to them?
“I refuse to be cold and unfeeling like the Paladins,” I tell him. “We’ll find a way to save the plants and our island. You’ll see.”
I pull him away from the window. But deep down, I feel like I’m puling him from the call of the Wilds.