Night descends. Heart pounding, I tuck my knife into my belt and slip out of my family’s hut. The air is damp and cold, and if I didn’t know better, haunted by danger. Swiping my fingers over the Lillian Tree engraved on our door for good fortune, I duck into the shadows, hugging the stone wall that borders our clan until I find the secret hole, tucked beneath a scrabble of bushes.
My tunic swipes against the jagged stones as I crawl beneath the clan’s wall. Once through, I stand and drink in the sight of moonlight dancing over the ocean, waves crashing on the pearl-white beach. A thrill shoots through me just like it does every time I sneak out.
Sentries stroll along the top of the wall, but they don’t glance my way. I’m nothing but a ghost seeking shadows.
I take off running along the dunes, sea grass tickling my knees and sand squeezing into my slippers. Sea salt clings to my lips. Night breeze snaps at my long, silver hair.
After I skirt around the bend, my body tenses and I halt. The jungle spread before me in an endless line with its waving palms enticing me into their fold. I glance in either direction, then I dart into the forest until it drapes its folds around me. Here, the air smells of rich earth, sharp pine, and sweet Lillian blossoms.
A smile tugs at my lips as I press deeper into the forest. Once again, I escaped.
But soon the howls and squawks of the jungle rattle at my nerves and I pull out my dagger for reassurance. Storyteller’s tales of demons, creeping through the forests and kidnapping innocent Clansfolk, echo through my mind. Swallowing hard, I push my fears down and hurry deeper into the jungle.
Soon I’ll be in Tor’s arms. I focus on the memory of his kiss, brushing across my lips and neck. Those strong arms around me and the promises of how we’ll be together forever.
Tonight I need to hear those words more than ever.
I step into the small grove. Moonlight trickles through the tree boughs and onto the blades of grass. This is Tor’s and my place where we meet whenever we can get away. I settle onto the smooth slab of rock, tucking away my dagger and wrapping my arms around me. I just hope Tor doesn’t have any trouble sneaking away from his clan tonight.
The bushes rustle. The back of my neck prickles, and I straighten, listening. The forest feels as if it’s moving. A tall, dark form steps into the grove.
Tor.
My heart lurches, and I leap to my feet. His dark brown hair falls to shoulders and hangs over his eyes. His breathing is labored, as if he were running to get here.
“Tara,” he says and I fly into his arms. He could say my name a thousand times, and the sound of it would never lose its beauty. “I didn’t know if you’d get away. The security has gotten so much heavier.”
“I have my ways.”
He touches my hair, threading his fingers through its silver strands. “I hate this sneaking about,” Tor says. “There has to be a better way to live. I’m tired of sneaking about, hiding behind walls, doing what the Paladins tell us to do.”
“It’s not so bad.” I run my palms down his chest, smiling up at him. “We make it work. And we’re safer this way.”
“What if we’re not assigned to each other? How would you feel then?”
I kiss him. “The Magic won’t let that happen,” I say fiercely. “It knows we’re meant for each other.”
“The Magic?” He snorts. “If it even exists.”
I stiffen. What he says is blasphemous. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“I’ve heard the rules weren’t always like this.”
I frown, pulling away. “Who told you that?”
“I’ve been doing a little investigating.” He kisses my forehead and I feel excitement radiating from him. “What if I said I found a way for us to be together? No more sneaking about. No more worrying about who we’d be assigned to.”
“I’d say it’s too good to be true.”
“I can’t let them take you away from me. I’ll do anything to stop that from happening.”
I trail my fingers along the back of his neck, his life force pulsing through, strong and healthy. I still haven’t told him about my ability. Not yet. No one knows except my parents and sister. Being different is never good in Eden.
A shout and the clang of what sounds like steel against steel echoes across the forest.
“Did you hear that?” I whisper.
“Yes.” He squints into the forest, gripping my arms. “Stay quiet and don’t move.”
He releases me and reaches for the axe hanging from his belt. He steps to the edge of the grove, holding the weapon before him like he’s about to use it. But I can’t stand still. I edge closer to the sounds until I see whispers of light, shuddering through the trees.
Another step carries me to the edge, and I peer into the valley below. Dark figures swarm through fields, torches bobbing like restless fireflies among the Lillian plants. Yells vibrate within the forest, and with it, the clang of a battle.
“The Lillian plants,” I whisper, horror icing my veins. “They’re going to burn them.”
These plants protect us from the Hollowing. Without them, we can’t survive. Once, endless fields of Lillian bloomed across the isle. Now, only this narrow stretch at the base of Sacred Mountain remains. According to NAME, our clan leader, the Lillian plants are the last barrier between us and extinction.
Tor turns to me, eyes wild. “Go back to your clan. It’s not safe here.”
I reach for him, but he takes off, blazing through the forest, axe raised. His words buzz through me, the command in them tugging to be obeyed.
Go back. Go back. Go back.
But I want to help. Maybe I can stop the fires. There has to be something I can do. Except he told me to go back…
Clenching my fists, I take off, following him. Palms slash against my face. Branches slice my legs. I stumble over roots, slamming face-first to the ground. Dirt fills my mouth. I grit my teeth and scramble to my feet, running again.
My body crashes hard into something. No somebody. I stumble backward, only to find myself face to face with a man with yellow strands of hair sticking out of his mostly bald head. Tattered clothes hang on his skeletal, thin body, a mix of browns and forest greens. Even in the moonlight, he looks yellowed and sickly. My eyes fall on the satchel hanging at his side. It’s stuffed full of roots and white flowers.
My heart plummets. Lillian plants.
He grins, revealing sharp, pointed teeth and glittering green eyes. Terror slams into me and I whip out my knife, holding it before me. There’s no doubt. This man is from the Wilds. I’ve never encountered one before, but I know the stories.
They say the Wilders aren’t human, but creatures half-turned into monsters by the Hollowing. They steal our Lillian plants to hold off the final stages of the sickness, or maybe it’s vengeance on us for keeping the plants to ourselves, hoping that someday we’ll become just like them.
“Pretty girl, pretty blade,” the man titters like I’m a silly fool. Perhaps he’s right. The knife shakes in my hand, revealing I’m no killer. “Run. Run away while you still can.”
“Those plants are ours,” I say. “Give them back.”
He cackles. His eyes roll in the back of his head like one possessed. I use the opportunity to snatch the satchel from him, but he lifts it into the air.
“The island gives.” He snarls. “The island takes away.”
I lunge for the satchel, but he swings it out of my reach and takes off. We need those plants. I’m faster and far healthier than he is. It doesn’t take long to catch up with him and tackle him to the ground. We tumble and the plants fly out of his bag, strewn across the forest floor.
“No!” He scrambles and claws about, trying to collect them.
Thankfully, he’s slower than a sea urchin. I snatch the rest up before he gets a chance.
“Mine!” the Wilder screeches. “I must have them or my family will die.”
I pause. He has a family? What does that even mean or look like?
Using my brief surprise, he slaps me across the face so hard that the blow sends me flying to the ground. My head hits the hard earth, and the plants fling from my hand. Stars swirl in my vision. He pounces on top of me and snatches my knife, raising it over my chest.
I scream, pushing against him.
A blur of movement, and the man is thrown off me. I look up to see Rune, one of the Sentries in training, standing above, a torch in his hand. He’s wearing the Sentry black band over his forehead and a black tunic that blends in with the night. His long dark hair hangs loose, whipping across his face. His eyes burn like hot embers in the firelight.
“How dare you touch her, you sniveling rat?” Rune growls.
“They’re my plants,” the Wilder spats.
Rune punches him, knocking him flat to the dirt. “Not the answer I was looking for.”
While the Wilder moans and rolls on the ground, Rune holds a hand to me. I eye him, hesitating. Strange marks run up his bare arms, moving as lightning cuts the sky.
Rune shoots me an amused grin. “I don’t bite.”
I take his hand, and as I do, our eyes meet. His eyebrows rise, and his mouth twitches. I pulls me up and jerk my hand away, but not before a thousand butterflies let loose in my stomach.
“Miss Damsel in Distress.” Rune bows and backs away. “We’ll have to do this again sometime.”
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary.” All the butterflies dissipate. He may be gorgeous, but he’s a Sentry. “Thank you and goodnight.”
“Never took you for one to break the rules.”
I glare at him. But worry snakes into my stomach. Will he turn me in?
Tor bursts through the bushes. “Tara! Why are you still here? I told you to leave.”
“This man was stealing our Lillian plants,” I explain.
Tor strides to where the Wilder grovels and yanks him to his feet. “What are you doing here?”
“You know we need those plants,” the stranger says, grinning at Tor. “Our supplies are gone.”
Tor punches the Wilder in the nose, sending the man tumbling backward.
“Stealing is a crime.” Rune points the tip of his sword at the Wilder’s neck. “You’ll be brought to the Reformatory for questioning.”
“Let the man go,” Tor says, causing both Rune and I to gape at him. “Let the man go. His only offence is stealing something that can save him when the Hollowing comes.”
“Let this scoundrel go?” Rune chuckles under his breath. “Not over my dead body. He’s no innocent. He was about to kill Tara.”
“Is this true?” Tor demands of the captive, picking up off the ground and holding him in the air so the thief’s legs dangle in the air.
The Wilders’ eyes roll in their sockets again. He snicker as if the whole situation is hilarious.
“I don’t know what you find funny,” I say. “Tor, let Rune take him to be questioned. Maybe we can get answers about the Wilders.
Two shadows leap out of the forest, screaming with a cry that stops my heart. Their swords aim at Rune. Tor drops the Wilder and pushes me behind him while Rune meets the oncoming blades.
With practiced precision, Rune’s sword slices the night, quick as the lightning marks racing along his arms. Their clubs are powerless against Rune’s steel. Fear fills the attackers’ eyes and they begin to fall back. But suddenly, the Lillian thief sneaks up behind Rune, his knife clutched in his hand.
“Behind you,” I warn.
Rune spins around and plunges his sword into the thief’s leg. The Wilder falls, howling in pain while the other two attackers take off.
“Watch the thief,” Rune orders Tor. “I’ll hunt down those other two.”
Then he races into the forest in pursuit, leaving us in the small clearing with the Wilder wailing on the ground before us.
The smell of death fills the air, chasing at my senses, clamoring at my mind. The urge is nearly impossible to resist. This desperation has always been my curse.
I inch closer to the Wilder. It’s not that I want to, it’s that I can’t seem to resist the pull. My hands tingle. Sweat beads on my brow.
“Be careful,” Tor warns. “Don’t get so close. He’s dangerous.”
“Don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten he nearly killed me.”
I plant my feet in the ground, grinding my teeth to keep myself in check. Then the Wilder stands, swaying slightly. He snatches the satchel, still holding some plants, and disappears into the foliage.
“Stop him,” I tell Tor, not trusting myself to chase after him.
“He’s no longer our concern.”
“Are you out of your mind?” I spin on him. “That Wilder is clearly dangerous, and he’s taken a satchel of Lillian plants.”
He doesn’t answer or even look at me, but watches the forest, knuckles whitening as he grips his axe.
“You let him go, didn’t you?” I demand.
“He wasn’t worth fighting over.”
My eyes narrow. “He sounded like he knew you.”
“Knew me? He’s not right in the head.” With a cloth, he cleans the blood off his fist.
Rune crashes out of the forest, joining us in the clearing. Sweat beads along the collar of his tunic, and his arm muscles rippled from using his sword.
“Did you kill the other two?” Tor asked.
“No.” Rune pants. “They disappeared. Like magic. They must have some hidden cave or tunnel.” Then he strides across the clearing, scanning the area where he’d stabbed the Wilder. “Where did yours go?”
“Escaped.” Tor glances at me, eyes urging to keep his secret. “Sneaky, that one was.”
I look away but kept my mouth shut. Hasn’t he kept my secrets over the years?