The emergency chimes ring with the first break of dawn. I groan into my mat, squinting against the sunbeams fingering through the curtains. After everything that happened last night, my body screams to go back to sleep.
Beside me, my sister, Charise, grumbles incoherent words. Groaning, I sit up and blink away sleep. My heart sinks. When the chimes ring, it’s mandatory for everyone to head to the Academy’s main hall immediately.
It also means there’s an important announcement. In all my twenty years, the announcements have never been good.
Mother sweeps through the door, holding a bucket of water, its contents sloshing over the sides. Her long brown hair is already braided and coiled around the crown of her head. She’s already changed into her best tunic, its white a sharp contrast to her sun-kissed complexion.
“Hurry.” She douses the fire with ashes. “Wash your face and hands. We’ll leave as soon as we’ve broken fast.”
“I wish I didn’t have to go,” Charise grumbles as she slips on a fresh dress and begins braiding her long dark hair.
A sick dread squeezes my stomach tight as I quickly change. Will it be about the Wilders? Did they steal most of the Lillian crops? Do they know that I snuck out?
“At least Tor will be there,” Charise says with a twinkle in her eye.
Tor. What was up with him last night? He definitely was acting strange. Did he really know that Wilder? Or had that been my imagination?
Once I’ve pulled on my dark green dress, I start preparing breakfast for the family when Father stumbles inside, balancing a pile of wood. His beard is neatly trimmed, making his jaw look sharper and his brown eyes larger.
“Good morning girls,” he says, kissing my mother.
He sets the logs in a neat pile next to the hearth but doesn’t make a fire. It’s hardly worth it since we’ll need to set off to the Academy soon. Quickly, I slice up cold bread, fruit, and cold tea for each of us and set it onto the table. Silence fills our small hut. It’s like we’re underwater, holding our breath.
I wait for Father to say something, but he takes a slow sip of tea. His hand shakes as he holds the mug to his lips. I press my lips together, praying to the Magic he didn’t discover I snuck out last night.
“Everything okay, Father?” Charise asks.
“Everything is going to be fine,” Father says. “Perhaps the Paladins are calling the meeting to tell us that they’ve found a way to heal the Lillian plants.”
“Sounds like wishful thinking,” Mother mutters.
“Something happened,” Charise presses. “I want to know what’s going on.”
My throat tightens and tucked my hands into my lap, squeezing my fingers so tight they hurt. This is the moment. This is he’ll tell me I’m to be taken to the Reformatory for breaking curfew and leaving the clan walls after the gates have closed.
“It’s nothing to worry about.” Father sighs. “Girls, make sure you keep to yourselves when we get to the Academy. Don’t cause any trouble.”
“They won’t take her, will they?” Mother’s face pales. “She hasn’t shown any signs of being Sickly.”
She’s talking about me. It’s been a long time since they openly spoke about my abilities. I almost thought they’d forgotten.
“You don’t have to worry,” I say. “I’m better now. It’s hardly noticeable.”
“Like I said.” He stands, pushing back his chair. “Don’t stand out in any way. Panic will only lead suspicion to our doors.”
***
It’s a ten-minute and very familiar hike along the sand path to the Academy. Since every child on the island attends the Academy between ages eight and eighteen, I can practically make the trek in my sleep. Jungle lines the route, and usually I’d be on the lookout for toucans and monkeys, but today my mind whirls with my parents’ worries and the events of last night.
The outlines of ivy-covered stone walls and an arched gate emerge into view. We join the line forming at the gate’s entrance where we each touch the pedestal. When my turn comes, I hesitate, unconsciously touching my fingers, remembering Father’s warning. What if that Wilder had been Sickly? His behavior had been strange. Could he have passed the sickness to me?
“You need to touch the emblem before you enter,” the Sentry manning the pedestal reminds me. “The Magic will determine your entrance.”
Last month week, a girl touched the Lillian Tree emblem. It burned red, and the bell inside the pedestal rang, signaling her as Sickly. Immediately, four Sentries emerged and dragged her away. We never saw her again.
I shove down my worries and place my palm on the pedestal. The stone bites cold on my sweaty hand. I stare at it, expecting the emblem to turn red. Waiting for the bell to clang.
Praying it doesn’t.
A flash of green. The emblem letting me know I’m not Sickly. I’m safe.
“The Magic has decided,” the Sentry says. “Move along and enter the Hall.”
As I start across the courtyard, I study my palm. I must have pressed hard against the pedestal because an outline of the Lillian Tree lingers on my skin.
I let out a long breath, telling myself everything is fine. That I’m worrying too much when my eye catches a cloaked figure standing in the doorway of a building.
Watching me.
Only the Paladins dress like that. To gain the notice of the Paladins is never good.
Quickly, I hurry inside. My family and I find into our Cultivator Clan’s section and sat down. I scanned the hall for Tor, and spotted him in the far corner with Rune, their heads huddled as if having an important conversation. I picked at the edge of my tunic, wondering if they were talking about last night.
Tor wore the green tunic of the Forester Clan. His brown hair was neatly combed, but even still, some pieces fell over his eyes. It had been those eyes that drew me in the first time he spoke to me at the Academy. They had a determined intensity to them. Or maybe it was his voice. Just hearing him call my name could send shivers through me.
And then there was Rune. Rumors had spread that no one could hold ground against him at the Sentry tournament last month. He had the strength of an ox and quickness of the legendary tiger.
“What do you think this is going to be about?” Charise whispered.
“I don’t know, but it can’t be good,” I said. The last time the Professors gathered us together was when they first announced the Lillian plants were dying.
Before I could make eye contact with Tor, the Academy’s professors moved onto the stage, their long purple robes dragging behind them. The silver edging and the outline of the Lillian Tree on their robes flashed in the golden light, seeping in from the tall windows that circled the room.
Professor Langley stepped forward while the others sat in straight-backed wooden chairs.
“Greetings, fellow Clansfolk of Eden,” Professor Langley said, his deep voice ringing across the hall. He ran his hand up and down his long beard, and for the first time I noticed a streak of white mixed in his black hair. “As you know, death has reached our shores and we have yet to find a cure. To further complicate matters, the last Lillian crops were plundered by the Wilders.”
The professor paused, allowing his words to sink in. The room filled with muttering. That word–death—had never been mentioned in a public setting before, and I could feel its power sinking into my bones.
“Without the Lillian leaves, those of us who are elderly,” at this, the professor paused to glance at the other professors sitting tall behind him, “are likely to finally start aging like those in the old world.”
It was as if a tremor of fear scuttled through the crowd as people gasped at the announcement.
“We still have no answers,” the professor said. “Therefore, we must adapt. Our projections tell us by the end of the year, we could lose an eighth of our population.”
Charise clamped her hands over her face, her shoulders sagged. I wrapped my arm around her, wanting to tell her everything was going to be alright. But that would be a lie because fear raced up and down my veins, too. What did this all mean for us? For me? Harsh whispers filled the hall, and I could feel panic spreading, oozing through the hall like a sickness of its own.
“Do not worry.” Professor Langley had to practically yell to get everyone’s attention. His voice cracked from the strain. Once everyone quieted, he continued, “Our great Paladins have a solution. There will no longer be a limit on the number of children a couple may have. We will also provide assistance to those choosing their life-mates to make sure the matches will produce quality offspring that can survive the onslaught of the Death.”
A gasp erupted from the Clansfolk. My jaw dropped as the reality of that statement hit me. Charise grabbed my hand, squeezing it as if just holding me could stop this reality. What if they didn’t approve of Tor and me? A shiver rippled down my arms, and I combed the room, searching for Tor. For the past year, we had an unspoken agreement we’d choose each other.
But now? That choice could be ripped from us.
Through the crowd, I found Tor’s face. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were focused in controlled fury on the dark-clothed figure standing in the shadows. The Paladin.
“There is also one other matter,” Professor Langley said. “I introduce you to Proctor, Head Paladin of our great Isle of Eden, to share this last piece of information with you.”
The hooded figure glided to the stage center, his robe swooping behind him.
“Greetings,” Proctor says in a deep, aged-filled voice. “We must not let the death of the Lillian plants become the death of us. We are the Pure Ones, brought to Eden to keep mankind from extinction. Just like the rest of you, we Paladins are also affected by the loss of the Lillian plant. We no longer have eternity to ensure the safety of Eden. Therefore, tonight we will be selecting five Apprentices to follow in our footsteps. Their first assignment will be to restore the health of the few remaining Lillian plants.”
Proctor stepped aside and Professor Langley instructs us to return to our clans to prepare for the Selection Ceremony.
But his words blur into a monotonous droning as I took all of this information in. Without the Lillian plant to keep us from aging or sickness, we’re doomed. One cloud carrying the Death could turn those of us not immune into sickly Mutants. According to the ancient stories, one Mutant can kill a whole clan.
I focus on the mural of the Lillian Tree engraved on the wall, sprawling out its thin silver branches into perfect curls at each end. Fifteen plump fruits hang from the tree.
Perfectly round. Perfectly hung.
That mural usually soothes me, but not today. My pulse races with hot fury. Angry at the Lillian Tree. Angry at the Magic that’s supposed to keep us safe.
There has to be a reason the Lillian plant are dying. There must be a cure.
The gong vibrated across the hall, jerking me to the moment. Everyone was already moving to head back to their clans.
“Tara,” Charise said, looking down at me, her forehead puckering up. “Are you coming?”
I remained motionless, rubbing my thumb over my palm, remembering my gift, knowing it wouldn’t be enough.
Before I had a chance to answer, Tor ambled over to us with that assured gait of his. His tunic flapped carelessly, free of the wide belt that most of the Woodcutters wore around their waist to hold their axes and work tools. Stubble had appeared on his face, but his comfortable look didn’t fool me. His jaw was tight, and the muscles on his neck were strained.
“We need to talk.” Tor glanced over at my parents and Charise. “Alone if we could.”
My heart skipped. I looked at Mother for permission. She nodded. “We’ll wait for you by the gate,” she said, but her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“So what do you think about all of this?” I asked after they left. I wanted him to hate it. For him to tell me how much he wanted to be with me and not some random partner.
“It makes sense, but I don’t like it. As if we don’t have enough to worry about, they throw the responsibility of reproduction on us, too. What if they pair us up with strangers or tell us when to have children? If this continues, they’ll be treating us as animals, caged away in our clan walls.”
“Shhh.” I pressed my finger to Tor’s lips. “Don’t talk like that. The Paladins are just trying to help us.”
He nodded, swallowing hard. “How are you?” His hand lightly my sleeve. “Your family still healthy?”
Fire burned along my cheeks. “I’m fine. Come on. I know a better place to talk.”
I led Tor to a supply room. We left the door slightly ajar to allow a stream of light inside.
“Not a bad place,” Tor said, drawing me to him. “It isn’t often we’re alone.”
My head rested against his hard chest, and the steady rhythm of his heart pulsed against me. Being wrapped in his arms, safe and secure, I could imagine how everything would turn out fine. The Paladins would find the cure to the Lillian plants, and I wouldn’t have to marry a stranger and have fourteen babies.
“The Maker wouldn’t have wanted a place where we were forced to marry someone we didn’t love,” I said. “If we could find the cure, it would solve everything.”
“Not everything. There has to be a better way of running things here in Eden. And I plan on finding it.”
“Don’t do anything stupid.” I stepped away from him. “We’d never be alive and Eden wouldn’t even exist, if it weren’t for the Paladins. We owe them everything.”
“Do we?” He studied me. “What if there were other options?”
I frowned. His words made me uneasy. “What do you mean? You’re not planning on causing trouble, are you?”
As dangerous and ridiculous sounding as his words were, after nearly being stabbed last night—Maker I couldn’t even think about that—everything had become different. More complicated.
“Did someone say trouble?” The door creaked open, spilling in a thick band of light. Rune swaggered inside. His bare arms rippled with muscle and his chiseled features made it hard to not look at him.
“Why are you here?” I knew I was being harsh, but there was something about Rune that made me feel out of control.
“I’ve come to talk you out of any senseless decisions you’re thinking of making.” Rune grinned. “And to tell you the Sentries are clearing out the Academy. Whatever you’re doing, you should hurry and finish it up.”
“Good to know,” Tor said.
Rune moved next to me, and leaned against the shelf.
“You’re staying?” I asked.
“I can’t resist a conspiratorial conversation.”
“It’s okay,” Tor said. “I trust him.”
I groaned. “I should go. My parents are waiting.”
“Tara.” Tor grabbed my hand. “This new ruling. We can’t allow them to choose our life-mates.”
“I agree.”
“Then you know this is the time. We should leave tonight after the Selection Ceremony. There will be so many Clansfolk traveling everywhere, it will be easy to slip away, unnoticed.”
“Are you serious?” I asked. “Where do you want to go?”
“To the Wilder territory,” Tor said. “No one will be expecting it. Plus, the Ceremony is going to be held on top of Sacred Mountain. It’s the perfect place to slip away, unnoticed.”
I rubbed my thumb over my palm. Sacred Mountain bordered Wilder territory. Tor was right. It was the perfect opportunity.
“I want to be with you,” Tor said. “Not with anyone else.”
“You two can’t be serious,” Rune scoffed. “That’s the stupidest idea of the century. You two would make the worst rogues.”
“I don’t trust the Wilders.” I crossed my arms. “If it weren’t for Rune, that Wilder would have killed me.”
“Gutted more like it,” Rune muttered.
“Shut up,” I snapped at Rune.
Tor ran his hands through his dark hair. “At least we can choose who to marry, and I can make my own decisions without a Sentry breathing down my back.” His fingers touched mine. “You wouldn’t be afraid of being different.”
“You don’t know that. You don’t know anything about the Wilders,” I said.
“She’s right, brother,” Rune said. “I’ve heard they’re cannibals. Ghost walkers. Demon’s possessed by Mutant’s souls.”
“You can’t really believe Storyteller’s tales,” Tor scoffed.
“Running off to join those Wilders, won’t fix things,” I said. “We need to find a way to solve our problems, not run away from them. What about our families? What about our Clansfolk?”
“I’m with her on this,” Rune said. “Don’t do it. The jungle is haunted. The last time a patrol was sent past the border, they disappeared. There wasn’t even a trace of what happened to them. Not even a footprint. Tell me that isn’t creepy.”
Tor dipped his head, so his hair curtained his face, making it was hard to read his expression.
“I can’t believe you would even consider this option,” I said. “It’s ridiculous.”
“If we do this, will you help us?” Tor asked Rune.
Rune swore and ran his hands through his long blond hair. “You know I will, brother.”
“Tonight.” Tor took my hands in his. “We go tonight. Don’t tell a soul.”
Tor’s voice wrapped around me like a thick blanket. If we left, we could be together. I wanted that more than anything. But what about my family and clan? They needed me, too. How could I abandon them? I thought about Charise and how she had always been there for me. What kind of person would I be if I left her behind without even saying goodbye?
“Please, Tara,” Tor said. “I don’t want to go without you.”
My heart flipped. He was actually thinking of leaving without me? He’d been my world for the last two years. I couldn’t imagine life without him.
I licked my lips, finally saying, “I’ll think about it.”