The Iron Butterfly (10 page)

“Look what Joss caught …a rat,” Syrani laughed at her own joke that only she and I would get, but her clique of followers joined in laughing anyway.

Joss’ hands tightened on my arms angrily, whether it was in response to me or Syrani’s barb I didn’t know.

“Joss, why don’t you let the kitchen rat scurry along back into the kitchen? You did promise you would help me with my history lessons after dinner,” she pouted beautifully.

I looked up at Joss for the first time in weeks and studied his outline up close. His jaw showed the shadow of stubble, he was tanner and a little broader in the shoulders, but other than that he was the same. Except now his dimple was hidden by the clenching of his jaw. His fingers were like a vise on my arms, he still hadn’t released me, and showed no signs that he planned to.

“I’ll be right there,” he said as he let go of one arm and pulled me away from the curious onlookers and Syrani. I glanced over my shoulder at Syrani’s enraged face and knew that I would pay for it later. Joss pulled me toward a hallway.

“Joss, you have to let me go, I’m going to get in trouble.” Ignoring me, Joss pulled me down another random hallway and as soon as we rounded the corner he stopped suddenly. I had no choice but to run into him. Joss turned on me, a heated look in his eyes.

“Have you been here the whole time?” he spat out. I could tell Joss was furious, which surprised me.

I hung my head in shame refusing to look at him. “Yes, I’ve been living and working here at the Citadel for the past six weeks.” I tried to look at a spot over his shoulder so I wouldn’t look him in the eye and have him see how guilty I felt.

“And you didn’t think to come see me; to tell me that you are all right? I had no clue what happened to you after you told me off. I’ve regretted every day walking out on you.” He ran his hand through his blonde hair, messing it up. I inwardly sighed at how becoming it looked on him.

“I wanted to be there for you when you spoke with the Adepts, but after what Darren said and then the way you acted, I lost my temper and left. I was angry with you. I told myself you were out of my hands and that I wouldn’t give you another thought. But that was a lie.” He turned to me, his green eyes softening. “Two days later I stormed into Adept Lorna’s office and demanded to know what happened to you. That infuriating woman only smirked and told me that you were in good hands.”

Speechless, I looked at him, wondering what I meant to him. I felt a guilty thrill race through my body. But then I remembered what Lorna said about what he could one day become. I remembered my station in life and dared to not even hope.

He slammed his fist into the wall. “But, darn it. Don’t you understand? I..I, when I pulled you out of the river you were almost dead and I kept you alive. I feel responsible for you.”

My back stiffened. “So that’s all I am to you? A responsibility?”

“No, that’s not it.”

He started to lean forward, and I was pinned between Joss and the wall.

“Then what is it?” I interrupted questioningly, almost dreading the answer.

“I don’t know, but I…”

He didn’t get to say anymore before Avina rounded the corner obviously looking for someone, but stopped when she saw the way Joss was leaning over me. Joss looked up.

“Thalia, you have to get in here NOW! Donn is turning all shades of red because you haven’t come back.” Avina ducked back into the kitchen and I turned to go, but stopped as Joss’ hand touched my shoulder. “Promise me we will talk later?”

All I said was, “Syrani’s waiting for you.” And I walked into the kitchen. I was a glutton for self-punishment, by pushing Joss away. I was protecting myself. He was a student at the Citadel and would one day be a great Adept, I was a drowned river rat, a nobody that had no real future and no family that had stepped forward to claim me. I was scared that all Joss really felt was a protectiveness over me, and I was right. He felt responsible for me and I didn’t want him to.

I could take care of myself. Joss deserved someone that wasn’t as messed up in the head as me, someone beautiful, but not like Syrani. I thought of all the girls that threw themselves in his way and became more determined to build a wall up between myself and the very handsome Joss. I wouldn’t hope or dream because I didn’t think my heart was strong enough. And in the end, I was afraid that after everything that had happened to me that if my heart shattered, I wouldn’t know how to put it back together again.

Slipping into the kitchen I resumed filling trays of food and bringing them back out into the hall; no longer worried about confronting Joss since I had already embarrassed myself. Depositing the tray on a table, I looked around the room to see if I could see him. He was gone and so was Syrani. I felt glad that he was gone, and depressed at the same time because he was with her. Heading back into the kitchen I decided to take Avina up on her offer to go into the city and spend some of our hard earned silver tomorrow since it was our day off. And I did promise I was going to buy Berry something. I definitely wanted to spruce up our room and get some clothes that looked nothing like my blue and gray uniform. Feeling a little lighter on my feet at the prospect of getting out of the kitchens, the rest of the night flew by.

Chapter 7

Freedom! The colors of all the districts, smells, sounds and the fact that Avina and I were running around laughing was the best healing therapy that I could ask for. The smells of the baker’s district made my mouth water and the chocolate pastries made my mouth melt with delight. We had decided to pool our money together and share everything we bought so we could try a wider variety of food. It was the absolute best idea, for I couldn’t remember having a more relaxing day. I was laughing so hard my cheeks hurt.

After purchasing a book for myself, I was drawn to a colorful stall with small jars of scented perfume. The elderly woman was busy with another costumer so I took the chance to study the perfumes further. There were various herbs and flowers in a beautiful glass-blown bottle with a rubber stoppers for decoration. I picked up a beautiful, light blue orb that felt warm to the touch from being in the sun. Unstopping the stopper, I was assailed with wonderful feeling of absolute contentment with the faint hint of vanilla and cinnamon.

Once I plugged the bottle of perfume, the feeling faded. Now interested more than ever, I grabbed an amber colored bottle that, once uncorked, unleashed a feeling of bubbling happiness with the scent of sunflowers on fresh wind. The perfumist was obviously a Denai who was able to capture feelings within her perfumes. This amazed me about Calandry, the freedom in which Denai practiced their art and sold it. My fingers drifted over the tops of the other bottles in wonder.

“Now that bottle right there will make you feel like you’re in love,” spoke a gravelly voice over my shoulder. I jumped and had to steady a few bottles that I almost knocked over.

A cackling laugh erupted from an elderly, gray haired lady whose face was covered in laugh wrinkles. Her sun-lined face showed that she probably spent most of her times outdoors, and her skin had a hint of sparkles.“Don’t worry; it doesn’t make anyone fall in love with you. It just gives you a feeling as though you are in love. You wouldn’t believe how many married women wish for the feeling of being young and in love again,” she winked at me.

I looked at the bottle closer.

“It’s my best seller. I’m a Weaver. I weave feelings into my perfumes so that women can feel confident or beautiful while they wear them.”

It took a moment for her words to sink in. Weavers was the nickname given to the Denai with weaving abilities. They were able to make a pot that would never boil over or silverware that would never tarnish by weaving power into their items during construction. I had seen some of the items first hand in the Citadel’s kitchen.

“Do you ever weave hate or fear into them?” I asked cautiously.

Her eyes darkened angrily, “That would be abusing the gifts that God gave me and I would never do that.” Her voice became louder, almost a shout as she ranted, “I only weave light, not darkness! Never darkness! The dark does not like to be ignored, and its call is sweet like honey, but it will devour you whole and spit you out.” Her anger rose and then quickly dissipated when she saw my obvious distress at her tone. Her voice lowered and she seemed to regain clarity and looked around warily. “Not saying someone else couldn’t do it, but I won’t do it. And no one can make me.” She seemed as if she knew from experience and which may have brought on her moment of insanity.

“Please don’t take offense.” I held my hand out to her, palms up as if I was soothing a frightened animal. “I should have known better than to question your methods. Your work is beautiful and I would never wish to insult you, but my curiosity at the wonder of what you can do made me speak without thinking.” I put every ounce of comfort into my voice, trying to soothe the woman who seemed so close the edge of reason.

The women visibly softened.

“Ah child; don't let old Ruzaa's bark worry you. I do get a little irrational about my gift sometimes. Once, long ago, a terrible man thought I could weave a potion to force people do his bidding.” She looked tired and worn out as she went on, “I was even been beaten as he tried to force my hand to work dark and evil things into potion form.” She held up her hands and I could see the white mangled tissue of faded burn marks around her hands. “I wouldn’t do it. That would be compromising my values. To give in, to take something that was meant for good and use it to do evil is a sin. And I refused. They could’ve killed me for all I cared.” Her gaze turned steely in determination before flicking to a movement over my shoulder. She dropped her hands and hid them behind her apron. I turned but saw nothing.

My heart lurched with a feeling of empathy. Here was a survivor, a kindred heart, someone who had lived through unbearable circumstances and arose to live on. I had more in common with this unstable female than anyone I had met in Calandry.

“Ruzaa, stay strong, never change who you are for anyone.” I reached for her hand under her apron and held it in such a way as to expose my own scars. Ruzaa’s eyes widened with understanding, and she looked up at me as tears sparkled in both of our eyes. A bond between two survivors formed; one old, one young.

Avina, not understanding the exchange, finally spoke up with her childish exuberance. “What about getting a boy to kiss you? I could really use something like that!” Ruzaa laughed out loud and I smiled at the excited look on Avina’s freckled face, when my gaze was drawn to the flowers that were drying and hung around posts from the booth. An idea struck me.

“Ruzaa. What about dyes? Can any of your flowers be used for dyes? I’m looking for a gift for the Citadel’s head seamstress, Berry. I would love to give her something to experiment with and get a color that no one else has?”

Her aged eyes grew thoughtful as she pulled a plant that resembled holly and was a rich deep blue. She put it in a small cinch sack. “Try this. I would say she could get a wonderful deep blue and some indigo. But here is a secret.” She leaned forward and whispered, “Whatever garment she makes with this dye, the wearer will always have feelings of hope.” She winked at me. I couldn’t help myself. I hugged her with delight, almost knocking her over. Ruzaa’s surprised laughter stayed with me as I carried my small prize with me down the street. She had even given me a wonderful deal on my present. Avina, who was very patient during this exchange, was now buzzing with excitement.

“You know she’s crazy right?” Avina whispered in a hushed voice, hoping that Ruzaa wouldn’t overhear.

“Aren’t we all?” I answered back.

“Come on.” Avina pulled me toward the mercantile districts and their brightly painted yellow shops. “We have to get you some material for a new outfit for the Founding Celebration. Oh, and a mask!”

“Founding Celebration?”

Avina rolled her eyes at me. “You know, the Founding Celebration, the midwinter celebration in honor of the founding of Calandry. Are you going with anyone?”

My mind immediately went to Joss but then a picture of him and Syrani flashed in my mind. “Um no, I didn’t know that you had to go with someone, I thought you could go as a group?”

“Of course you can go as a group. But on the final night of the Celebration, the Palace holds a masked event... It’s the one night of the year when everyone in the Citadel is equal, and of course there is dancing and contests. But the best part is when the Faeries pass out matching dance tokens to the male and female guests; you are supposed to find your match to redeem your dance,” she rushed out almost in one breath. Her eyes got a dreamy look before finishing. “And then at midnight, when the bell tolls midnight, whoever kisses you is meant to be your true love.” I was getting lost in her babble of love, fairies and tokens.

“That seems unlikely. It sounds like the drivel a bunch of desperate girls would make up,” I chuckled.

“But, Thalia!” Avina whined, eyes opening wide, “I am a desperate girl. And it's not drivel. I didn't make it up. It's tradition.”

“It's a stupid tradition.” I could see that my comment hurt her as her shoulders slumped dejectedly. Leaning over I nudged her. “So are you going with anyone?”

“No, I wish though.”

“Well I’m not going with anyone either, so I don’t see the point of getting all dressed up especially when no one knows who you are.”