Page 11 of Ruby & Onyx

“No, really?” I bite as I readjust my sleeves.

“You jumped so high that I worried the birds might steal you.” There’s a sincerity in the softness of his nervous expression that convinces me to be honest with him. He doesn’t deserve my venom.

“Watching a man decimated by the barrier will do that to you.” I almost stop there, but the words come out too easily like a much-needed release of built-up tension. “Soon after, I spoke with the trader from Alium – the one that sells the coffee?” I search for a sign of recognition, but he only raises an eyebrow. “Anyways, he turned ghostly and absent like his soul escaped from his body for a moment. Then he started talking about a homecoming and nations bowing down, or something like that. And then… and then… guards found him with a knife in his chest only a few hours later.”

The words sound so ridiculous that I wonder if he thinks I’m lying. But who could be demented enough to concoct a story about a man turned to dust and a murdered old grouch? Tana, maybe. But not me.

“The jumping makes sense now.” He sighs and searches the ground with his eyes as if he’s decoding something written in the dirt.“What did he – the man that died – mean about the homecoming?”

He knows just as well as I do that there can be no homecoming. I have no family to return to, no home outside of these walls. The only homecoming that exists for me is the greeting that Moose gives after fetching him some water.

“I have no idea,” I say quietly.

“Do you think he’s a seer?”

The thought crossed my mind. I’ve read books about seers, mystics, and prophets, but I’ve never spoken to one. Not knowingly, anyway, since seers are banned in Mendacia. “Maybe, but I wouldn’t know a seer from a farmer. Have you ever met one?”

“No, I don’t know that I believe in them. Seems like a load of quackery to me.”

“On that, we can agree.”

“Were you two close? You and the trader, I mean.”

“Oh, no. It’s not like that at all. He was quite crotchety and abrasive, and I only ever saw him when I ran out of coffee.” I start to consider why his death bothers me so much. Sure, he unsettled me with his words, but maybe he had gone mad. Maybe all I witnessed was the musing of a man whose mind had been stolen from the gods. “It’s just the timing of it all seems strange with the prowlers lurking beyond the barrier.”

“That’s true, but don’t let it worry you too much,” he says with a softened smile. “Are you doing alright? Other than that, of course. Last time I saw you…”

I don’t want to think about the last time that he saw me.

I don’t want to think about that time in my life at all.

It was filled with too much pain. Too much hurt.

Forgetting about it completely is the only way to heal.

“I should go.” I turn to head back to the cottage as the fear of slipping back into that dark, miserable place seeps into my bones and pulls me down, down, down…

He places a hand on my shoulder, which causes me to shudder. “Sorry, I know that touching you from behind didn’t go so well last time. But if you want to talk, I’m happy to listen. I mean it.”

“Thanks.” I know that I will never go to him, but I smile anyway, instinctively shoring up the walls of my heart once again.

Chapter 5

Moose made my cottage his home. And, much to my surprise, I grew to like it. He sleeps in the bed with me and cuddles extra close when the nightmares strike. He nuzzles his nose into the crook of my neck, and I let him stay there, even though it tickles. I find myself talking aloud to him quite frequently, and I swear that he understands.

He is quickly becoming my first true friend. Gods, that’s sad.

A month passed without any further mention of murders or any sightings of prowlers in the forest, and I’m beyond grateful for the monotony that replaced it. I borrowed a book from the library on how to make tinctures from the garden, and I’ve been studying it intently. The ingredients are hard to come by sometimes, but I’m learning which herbs can be used as replacements for one another.

The rising temperature and rainy days mark the coming of summer. The jasmine is in bloom, and every time I walk outside, I stop to appreciate its sweet perfume. I love this time of year when all of the leaves are shiny and new. Everything feels happier and more manageable when nature comes to life.

On an evening stroll with Moose, I search for a better view of the pink and orange hues painted in the sky. Every time I leave the cottage now, he follows right alongside me, marching his short little legs in step with mine. Together, we wander along side-by-side toward the barrier, and the warm air wraps me into its embrace.

Nobody else is around, and that’s just how I like it. I lie down on a grassy spot to count the clouds. Moose gets distracted by a passing bird and starts chasing it like he might somehow gain the wings required to catch it. While he’s gallivanting around without a care in the world, I stare up at the fluffy clouds as they parade through the sky, morphing into various forms of animals and objects - deer, rabbits, pies, and swords.

My imagination begins to wander as I ponder what else could be out there, beyond this crippling cage. Mrs. Whitehurst, my old school teacher, told us about the rest of the continent. They say that mountains stretch wide across the kingdom, extending from sea to sea. The gods’ favored land, they call it.

I imagine myself as a mountaineer, or a fisherman perhaps. But these are lives that will never claim me, not here. Not when I’m trapped in this flat and land-locked village. The closest thing we have to a mountain is the mesa at the center, but it belongs exclusively to Lord Myles.

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