Page 13 of Ruby & Onyx

One of the men in the back steps forward with more hesitation than the other. Though he’s too far away to make out any defining features, I notice his tall frame and ragged breaths. His stare is heavy as he lets out a gasp.

The front man holds out a hand to signal a stop to his comrade behind him. And with a crooked smile, he says, “Thank you, Radya. It was an honor to meet you.” He bows to me and then moves to pull the other man away, and it’s as if he’s using all of his force to remove him from that spot.

“Wait!” I shout, sticking my hands out in an unconvincing plea. “You never answered me! Who are you? What are you doing here?”

But I’m too late. They disappear into the dark forest, and my questions hang in the air, unheard and unanswered.

* * *

Who were these men? Where did they come from? Why do they seem so keenly interested in me? Years passed without such disturbances. Why is it all happening now?

Breathe, Radya. Calm yourself. Think logically. Breathe in… and out…

Do I need to warn someone? Or do I keep the information to myself? They seemed harmless, but how could I be sure? A wolf doesn’t always bare its teeth when stalking its prey. What if they were using me to plan an attack? What if I somehow gave them the information that they need to do so successfully? What if my silence leads to bloodshed?

I could go to Tana and let her warn the rest of the village, gods know how she loves to talk. That way everyone is on their guard and prepared if something were to happen. But would that create a needless panic? I’m not sure if it’s worth the risk.

Oren, then? He did say that I could talk to him anytime. He may provide another perspective, or perhaps some protection. But what would he know? The memory of our last conversation resurfaces, and I veto that idea, too. I’d rather not dig up the past by facing him again.

Okay, if not Tana and not Oren, then whom do I tell?

Lord Myles?

He is the only one with knowledge of how the border works, and he communicates with the king. He may know what these men want, or, at the very least, he can establish a plan to prevent an attack without causing panic.

That seems logical. But how do I go about it? How do I explain what happened when it hardly makes sense to me?

‘I made friends with the prowlers stalking our village’ makes me sound guilty, like I’m aiding in some not-yet-committed crime. These men haven’t proven themselves to be dangerous or in any way capable of piercing the barrier. Nor have they proven themselves to be friendly.

Something needs to be said.

I will go to Lord Myles tomorrow morning and tell him what I saw. It’s up to him to draw his own conclusions.

Moose curls up on the foot of the bed. Hardly a minute later, he lets out an explosive snore that reminds me of his namesake. It is impressive how quickly he can fall asleep, even when danger is knocking at the door.

Tomorrow it is. I’ll go to the mesa and let Lord Myles decide what to do.

Chapter 6

The guard in front of the mesa’s lift stares at me like I’m a threat. Does he look at everyone that way? A deadly gleam encircles his dark pupils as his hand moves to the hilt of his sword hanging by his side. Maybe I’m being paranoid.

“Would it be possible to speak to Lord Myles?” My voice quivers, and so I clear my throat and repeat myself with more confidence. “May I speak to Lord Myles?”

I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It’s not as if I’ve never spoken to the man. Gods know how he seeks me out in public settings, often within plain sight of the village’s many gossip-laden tongues. But in those scenarios, our conversations were surface-level, rarely discussing anything deeper than the weather. This is something else entirely. These prowlers pose a threat that could alter the future of Carcera, or at least my status in it.

A high bun rests atop the guard’s head, clearing the way for his fearsome eyes. They rove up and down my body like he’s searching for some hidden threat. I stand stock still as he surveys me, nearly forgetting to breathe altogether. Finally, he clicks his tongue and asks, “Is it urgent?”

“Yes,” I clear my throat again. “Yes, it is urgent.”

He pauses to assess me once more before turning toward the lift that ascends the mesa’s side. That little box seems small next to the colossal body of rock, which appears to have sprouted from the earth in a perfect circle. Its rocky base extends so high that the top can hide behind the clouds, though not today. Today is clear and warm, which only exacerbates my nervous sweats.

Did he intend for me to follow him? Should I have given him my name? I take a step forward, ready to follow, but he halts and holds a hand in the air. “Stay here,” he says as he steps into the lift. The doors quickly snap shut behind him. The wooden contraption floats up into the air, levitating up, up, up, until the bottom is barely visible.

For every minute that I wait, the urge to leave grows stronger. Am I making a mistake by alerting Lord Myles to the prowlers? The last time he felt threatened by outsiders, he trapped the entire village within the barrier. If he suspects an attack could be on the horizon, who knows what drastic measures he might take? He could confine everyone to their cottages until the threat subsides, shrinking our cages even further. Or, what if he punishes me for speaking to the prowlers? There may not be a rule against it, but there’s always a first for everything!

Oh, gods, what have I done?

Just when I decide to abort the plan, I see the lift descending, coming closer into view with every beating thud of my heart. I step back to make room for it, as if it might crush me if I’m too close. And when the doors open, the guard greets me with a scowl. Would it hurt him to offer even a tight-lipped smile?

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