The Poison Season, page 16
Fiona’s hazel eyes were damp with tears when she turned to her daughter and said, “Everything.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Leelo had been tromping around the middle of the island for what felt like hours, and she’d found nothing resembling a boat. She had never seen the pond where the flowers for the ceremony were grown, and she had no idea where the council members even met once a month. It didn’t make sense. It was a small island, and she knew it like the back of her hand.
She tried to think of anywhere the adults had discouraged Endla’s children from visiting. The only place she could think of was a small grotto northwest of the pine grove.
From a geographical perspective, it was a completely illogical place to keep a boat. It was at the bottom of a chasm, and the children were told to avoid it because it was not only dangerous to reach—it was supposedly full of disease-infested bats. But now that she thought about it, Leelo had never seen a bat on Endla. She wasn’t even entirely sure what a bat was.
She’d gone to visit Isola first, so that if anyone asked if Leelo had visited her, Isola would say yes. Leelo had planned to account for the rest of her time with foraging for berries, which were just starting to ripen. She had a basket with her and had filled it as quickly as possible, which also lent credence to her story.
Still, if she tried to make it to the cave and back, she would have very little time to check on Jaren before nightfall. And Sage, who had quickly lost interest in spending the day with Leelo once Isola’s name was mentioned, would wonder where she had gone. Berry picking didn’t take all day.
But Leelo had no other plan, and she had to get Jaren off the island as soon as possible. The summer solstice festival was coming up in a few weeks, and it was the one time of year when every single islander joined, since the incantu were gone and there was no safe way for the outsiders to cross. They knew what happened on the solstice; if they chose to be out on festival night and got lured into the lake, that was their own fault.
The festival was always full of drinking and dancing around a large bonfire. Many proposals took place on the summer solstice. And Leelo didn’t know how she’d keep Jaren safe from the singing if he was still here.
She hid her berry basket in a bush at the top of the chasm leading down to the grotto. It was already noon, and she was sweating despite the fact that she was only wearing a lightweight linen dress. Scanning the surroundings to be sure she was alone, Leelo started to make her way down the steep slope.
It was slower going than it had seemed from above. There was no path or trail, and the closer she got to the bottom, the steeper her descent became. From above, the grotto was hardly visible among the trees and ferns along the floor of the chasm, which must have held a creek at some point. She’d never had any interest in exploring here, though she knew sometimes children dared each other to brave the possibility of a fall, poison ivy, or an encounter with a rabid bat to snatch one of the colorful stones supposedly found in the cave.
But as she skidded and slid her way down, Leelo saw no poison ivy, and when she finally reached the mouth of the grotto, she was a little disappointed to find there were no special rocks here, either. It was just a shallow recess swathed in shadow, with dust and pebbles along the ground.
Leelo paused and took a long drag from her waterskin, then poured some on her neck beneath her braid. It was humid down here, and her dress was already soaked through at the back. Fortunately, it was not one of her nicer garments, just a simple dress that wouldn’t be missed if it disappeared at the end of this excursion.
Leelo ducked her head and entered the cave, wishing she’d brought a lantern with her. Or better yet, that her brother was here to help. Tate was a quiet, sensitive boy, but he was always brave when it came to Leelo. She hoped that wherever he was now, he was being brave for himself.
The cave was only about twenty feet deep, and she didn’t see any sign of bat droppings or bats themselves. Her hope dwindling, Leelo left the cave and sat on a log, draining the last of her water. If the boat wasn’t here, where else could it be? She kicked at a rock near her foot and was surprised to hear a crack.
Leelo’s hand flew to her mouth when she realized it was a bone. A human mandible. She rose and spun. Among the ferns and saplings struggling to grow in the filtered light, the ground was littered with bones, all disturbingly human. Was this what had happened to the outsiders Mama told her about last night?
Leelo looked at the cave again and gritted her teeth. This time, she went straight for the back, feeling around with her hands instead of relying solely on her eyesight. There. A gap in the stone, just large enough for a person to squeeze through...
Leelo emerged in a much larger cave. Light streamed in from above; there must be holes in the Forest floor, another good reason to tell the children to avoid this area. If anyone fell through, the drop was at least twenty feet, and the water on the cave floor didn’t look more than a few feet deep. The boat was propped against the cave wall, the hole at the bottom still unrepaired. There were ropes and a pulley nearby. That must be how they got the boat into the cave.
“Damn it,” she swore. She didn’t know how to repair a boat, and she had no idea where the substance was that the council members used to protect the hull and the rope from the lake water. She walked closer to the water and peered through the dim light. Something was floating on the surface.
Lilies. Dozens of them, the buds tightly closed. This must be where they were grown. At least Leelo had answered two of the mysteries of Endla. But none of this was any use to her. Even if she and Jaren could pull the boat out of here on their own, it wasn’t usable. She would have to wait until the council members repaired the boat themselves.
As she huffed and puffed her way out of the ravine, Leelo thought about what she would say to Jaren. They’d have to find some way to keep him safe during the festival. Perhaps stuffing wool into his ears and locking him inside the cottage would be enough. Or maybe, since he didn’t seem to have been harmed by the other songs he’d heard, he’d be safe anyway.
By the time she made it to the cottage, Leelo’s braid was unraveled, her hands and knees were bloodied from slipping so many times on her way out of the gorge, and her dress was filthy. She couldn’t go home like this, not without some sort of explanation for where she’d been.
She entered the cottage without knocking, her thoughts on all the different conundrums she found herself in.
Jaren glanced up from the book in his lap. The songbook, she saw as he closed it and set it aside. “Hello, Leelo,” he said. “You look like you’ve been on quite an adventure.” His smile faded when he noticed the blood on her. “Saints, are you hurt?”
She snorted and sat down on the floor. “No, just frustrated.” She explained about the cave and the boat, though she left out the part about the lilies, since that had nothing to do with him. She had betrayed Endla enough as it was. She didn’t need to add this to the list.
When she was finished, she waited for Jaren to digest everything. He managed to keep the disappointment he had to be feeling off his face, mostly. “I might be able to repair the boat, if I could get to it. But I’d still need an opportunity to move it to the shore.”
“The council members would wonder how it had gotten fixed, anyway.” Leelo absently untied the ribbon holding what was left of her braid, combing out her hair with her fingers. “I’m sorry. I was hoping to have better news.” She looked up to find Jaren watching her, and she dropped her hands to her lap, suddenly self-conscious.
He cleared his throat and looked away. “It’s not your fault,” he said. “We’ll think of something.”
It was kind of him to say “we” when Leelo knew it was all dependent on her. He couldn’t do anything from here.
“Oh, by the way.” Jaren pulled a piece of parchment off the makeshift table. “It turns out I’m not an artist or a musician. But here.” He handed her the parchment.
“These are instruments?” she asked, turning the paper this way and that because she wasn’t sure what was supposed to be the top.
“You have to imagine them made of wood and metal. And in three dimensions. And properly proportioned.”
She continued to stare at the drawing until he pulled it away from her.
“Okay, so this didn’t help at all. At least it gave me something to do.”
“Keep working on it,” Leelo said with a nod of encouragement.
Jaren brushed an invisible speck of dust off the drawing. “I was thinking—because aside from this masterpiece, I haven’t had anything else to do—about your brother.”
“Tate?” Leelo hadn’t mentioned him to Mama recently because it only seemed to make her sad. But it was nice to have someone to talk about him with. Even if it was an outsider.
“Maybe, if I get off of Endla, I could check on him for you? I could tell him that you’re okay, and I could make sure he’s doing well. I’d have to find him, of course, but it’s entirely possible he ended up in Bricklebury.”
Leelo’s heart stuttered in her chest. “You would do that for me?”
Jaren’s flush reached all the way to the tips of his ears. “Well, sure. It would be the least I could do, considering you saved my life.”
The last time he’d mentioned what she did, she insisted she wasn’t helping him for his sake, that she’d only done it for herself. But she couldn’t claim that was true anymore. She could have brought him supplies and left them outside his door. She didn’t need to bring him drawing supplies, of all things. Spending time with Jaren right now was a choice, not a necessity.
Guilt replaced the hope that had bloomed in her chest just moments ago.
“I should go. I need to clean myself up before I go home.”
“Could I... I don’t mean this to sound untoward, but could I go with you? I haven’t bathed in days and while I’ve become somewhat immune to my own aroma, I can’t imagine it’s particularly pleasant for you.”
Leelo smiled. She couldn’t smell him over her own odor. “Are you sure? I don’t think we’ll encounter anyone, but it could be dangerous.”
“I understand. But if I’m going to die anyway, I’d prefer to do it clean.”
Chapter Thirty
Jaren followed Leelo through the woods as quietly as he could, which was still nowhere near as quietly as Leelo. He was overjoyed at the prospect of washing up, even more so at the notion of cleaning his wound. His leg still hurt, but he’d checked the bandage earlier and hadn’t seen any redness creeping around the edges. That had to be a good sign.
The pond was more of a series of small spring-fed pools, the largest of which was only big enough for two or three people. Jaren walked to it as quickly as he could, already tearing off his filthy tunic and boots. It wasn’t until he was starting to pull off his breeches that he remembered Leelo was behind him. He turned to find her cheeks flaming, her eyes fixed firmly to the ground.
“I’m so sorry,” Jaren said. “I didn’t really think this through.”
She managed to drag her eyes up to his, though he noticed they lingered on his bare torso for just a moment. “I didn’t, either.”
“We can take turns,” Jaren said. “I won’t look. You have my word.”
“I need to wash my dress. And you should probably wash your clothing, too.”
“Right.”
She bit her lip, revealing that tiny gap again. “But I’m not sure what we’ll do while we wait for it to dry.”
“We’ll just have to stay in the water,” Jaren said. “I’ll take this pool, and you can take that one.”
Leelo nodded, but the furrow between her brows remained. She went to her pool and Jaren jumped into his, still wearing his trousers. The water was cold but he adjusted to it quickly, grateful to be clean again for the first time in days.
“Thank you for bringing me here. I didn’t realize how badly I needed this.” He stripped out of his trousers and laid them on the rocky edge of the pool next to his tunic, which he’d already scrubbed and wrung out.
“I’ll bring soap for next time,” Leelo said behind him. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of it sooner.”
“You read my mind,” he said, sniffing his clothing with a wince. “Water alone isn’t enough, I’m afraid.” Finally, he unwound the bandage on his leg, wincing as the scabs pulled against the fabric.
“How is the wound?” Leelo asked.
“Better.” Jaren still had one large hole in his shin, along with a few smaller ones, but they were clean and appeared to be healing. “Thank you.”
“I think it’s all right if we turn around,” Leelo said. “As long as we’re both under water.”
“Are you sure?”
There was a short pause. “Yes.”
Slowly, Jaren turned to face Leelo. Her pool was slightly below his, but the rocks between them hid her body from view. All he could see was her sleek head, her fair hair made silver by the water. Her eyelashes were usually so pale they were hard to see, but now they were darker and clumped together into little spikes.
He was staring. He swallowed and shook his head to break the tension, sending water droplets spraying. She held a hand out in front of her face, laughing.
“I feel so much better,” he said, slicking his hair away from his forehead. “You?”
She nodded. Her dress was splayed out on the rocks like his clothing. It had to be getting closer to evening, but the sun was still bright. The days were long now, with the summer solstice approaching.
“Have you made any progress with the songbook?” she asked. “I saw you were reading it when I came in.”
“Alas, no progress. I almost resorted to reading the poetry book, but I couldn’t stomach it.”
“What’s wrong with poetry?”
He shrugged. “Nothing, I suppose. It’s like singing without the music.”
She raised a brow in question.
“Right. You don’t sing words when you sing, do you?”
She shook her head. “No. Do you?”
Jaren didn’t love the idea of singing in front of someone who clearly had a far better voice than he did, especially when he’d never practiced. But he remembered the tune and words of one of the songs his mother had crooned to him as a baby, and he sang it quickly.
Leelo’s eyes lit up. “That’s wonderful!”
“Is it?” He chuckled. “My mother used to sing it to us when we were little. I’m surprised I still know the words.”
She smiled to herself. “I would never have thought to sing about a little filly in a meadow. But I liked it. Especially the part about the butterfly.”
Jaren sighed and crossed his arms on the rocks between them. “I wish we had something to eat. I’m starving.”
“I left the berries back in the cottage. I’m sure there are more nearby, though.”
“What kind of berries?”
“Blueberries. Maybe some lingonberries, but I don’t know if they’re ripe yet.”
“Right. Turn around. I’ll go find us some.” He waited until she was looking away, pushed out of the pool, and pulled on his still-damp trousers. It only took him a few minutes to find the blueberry bushes, and he picked them as quickly as he could, using his tunic as a makeshift basket.
He moved a little farther into the Forest and was just about to reach for a branch when he realized this wasn’t a blueberry bush; it was nightshade. Poisonous, even fatal, the small, blue-black berries looked similar to blueberries to the untrained eye. He glanced around him and noticed a patch of amanita toadstools growing nearby, their red-and-white-spotted caps bright against the grass. Fairy houses, Tadpole called them. But they were toxic, too.
Jaren was surrounded by danger, from the bright purple foxglove quivering in the breeze to the diamond-backed snake winding silently through them. He decided he had collected enough and made his way quickly out of the Forest to the clearing, then froze.
Leelo was standing with her back to him, still submerged below the waist. Her hair was so long it was nearly touching the water. She was doing something with her clothing, humming to herself as she worked.
She had the most beautiful voice Jaren had ever heard. Whatever she was singing now was nothing like the Endlan songs he’d heard before. It was, he realized, the song he’d sung for her, but in her wordless, haunting voice, it sounded otherworldly. He took a step forward without realizing it, until he stepped on a branch and froze just as her head whipped around.
She dropped below the surface of the water quickly, but not before he’d caught a glimpse of her face, her blue eyes wide with fright. Her hair had covered her chest, so he’d only caught a flash of bare skin. But saints, it looked like he’d been spying on her.
“I’m sorry,” he said, already turned around and facing away. “I have the blueberries.”
“Just a second.” He heard the water ripple, followed by the rustling of fabric. “All right.”
When he turned back around, she was wearing her still-damp dress. Her hair hung in long, loose waves. They would both need a little more time to dry.
“Here.” He laid his tunic out on the rock next to her and she thanked him, eagerly popping a blueberry into her mouth. He was still shirtless, but she wasn’t blushing, at least.
They ate in silence for a few minutes. Jaren stared out at the Forest, wanting to ask her something, anything, but not knowing where to begin. They had nothing in common, no shared experiences. Her life was confined to this small island, to people who all behaved and thought the way she did.
They reached for the last blueberry at the same time, their fingers brushing. When he looked up at her, her lips were stained purple, in stark contrast to her pale skin. She looks, he thought with a blush of his own, like she’s just been kissed.
