Successor Page 7

  His arms cross his chest, the quiver on his back lifting. “The elemental’s function is to defend the clan. It was your mother’s role here, and it will be yours if you choose to stay.”

  “If I choose to stay?” My anxiety flips to hot anger. “My friend is extremely sick. Because of me, she can’t get out of bed, and you’re saying I’m supposed to choose between taking her home or staying here to act like some kind of a weapon for you.”

  His gaze is steady. “It is your function.”

  My feet lose their lead, and I’m propelled forward, closing the distance to Ren with slow, measured steps. I lean in, inches from his face, my eyes locking on his. He doesn’t move.

  “Go to hell.” I turn and start back the way we came.

  “Evan—”

  His words are cut off when something shoots across my path mere inches from my face, making me stumble back. A loud thunk sounds, and there’s a large axe sticking out of a tree a few feet away. Adrenaline spikes in my veins, and my heart pounds against my ribs. I whip around and spot a man partially hidden in a grouping of trees. An arrow strikes the trunk next to his head, making him stagger farther into the shadows, and Ren runs toward him with another arrow notched on his bow.

  A loud whistle pierces the air, and I stumble back, my breaths coming fast and shallow. I take another step, turning to run, when the ground gives way under my feet. My stomach drops, my heart jumps into my throat, and I scream as I fall flailing into a dark, yawning abyss.

  Chapter Seven

  Pain shoots through me as I scramble to find a hold on a tangled mass of tree roots jutting out of the damp earth. Their rough edges tear into my arms, staining my shirt red through the dirt smears. A harsh grunt claws its way out of my throat, my hands turning bone-white in a death grip as my feet scrabble for a toehold. Loose dirt crumbles away with each scrape of my shoes into the pit, and sweat breaks out all over me. I struggle to hoist myself up, clenching my jaw until it aches. My arms give from the strain, and I cry out as my weight pulls me down.

  Panic swells in my chest. I can’t pull myself up. I do the one thing I can think of.

  “Ren!”

  Within seconds he’s there, lying on his stomach and reaching down to me. He snags my wrist, tugs my hand free of the roots, and pulls. “Climb!”

  My feet dig into the soft earth, and I claw at the roots as he helps me toward the top. My knees and feet find purchase on the wood snarls, and my free hand sinks into the long grass at the edge of the pit. Ren pulls his knees under him for leverage, and with a hard yank he hauls me above ground. I tumble into him, and we topple to the ground in a heap of dirty limbs.

  Several dazed seconds pass before I realize I’ve fallen on top of him. I’m lying flush against his bare chest, my face against his damp neck. The unexpected contact makes me jump, and I start to raise myself off him. He grasps my arms and pushes up…and stops with my face right in front of his. Like, right there.

  My breath catches, and his gaze locks on mine. My lungs stutter back into gear with a noisy wheeze, my breath fanning his face. He stills, his eyes flaring wide and his stomach turning rigid. His hold on my arms tightens, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s holding me in place instead of pushing me away.

  Burning pain flares through my arms, jolting me back to the present. With a hard shove I’m off him, his hands releasing me as I sit up. I reach for my bag, relieved to find the ball safe inside. There’s no sign of the attacker.

  “Where did he go?”

  Ren stands and offers his hand. “Into the overgrowth. The others are in pursuit.”

  I swat it away and push myself up. “We should let someone know what happened.”

  “The village already does.” He nods toward a clansman standing at the edge of the cliff, a different one than those who accompanied us out here. He’s signaling to someone in the forest below.

  I lift one of my arms to check the damage, sucking air through my teeth as pain shoots from my fingers to my elbow. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle when I spot the makeshift cover used to disguise the pit. I creep to the edge and peer into the dark. A chill runs up my spine at the sight of wooden stakes sticking out of the bottom.

  My feet take me a step back. “You could’ve warned me there are traps like this out here.”

  Ren toes a clod of dirt into the hole. “The Laraek do not set pitfalls.”

  My gaze darts to the trees where the attacker had been, Ren’s arrow embedded in a trunk. I whip back around. “Who the hell was that?”

  “An outlander.” Ren crouches, inspecting the pit.

  I wait but he says nothing else. “Care to elaborate?”

  He glances up as if he forgot about me, then stands and scans the woods. “Exiles. They unite under shared beliefs and objectives. Most seek to dismantle the clans.”

  “Any reason one would attack me?”

  His gaze meets mine, the corners of his eyes tightening the slightest bit. His lips part and his jaw loosens, words ready to come out. And then he blinks, like he’s come to his senses, and presses his mouth into a grim line. Instead of answering me, his hand lifts to my elbow, without touching, and he leads me from the pit. “We need to return to the village. It is not safe here.”

  My brows shoot up. “You think? I would’ve had second thoughts about coming out here if you’d told me something like this could happen.”

  “You were warned there would be dangers.”

  “I thought you were talking about animals or maybe getting lost.” My temper flares. “Not pits with stakes or axe-throwing psychos.” Wariness has me scanning the woods for anything out of sorts, and I jump when Ren’s piercing whistle sounds right next to my ear. “You know, for as stealthy as you are, you have no qualms giving away your position.”

  He navigates my path as we walk, testing the ground for another trap before I pass. “This land is within Laraek territory. The penalty for trespassing is severe. Outlanders rarely test our leniency.”

  “Well, today’s an exception.” The throbbing in my arms makes me grimace.

  Ren doesn’t respond, but tension radiates from him in waves. We reach the path at the clearing’s edge without issue, and the clanspeople who accompanied us here spring from the tree line.

  “Any sign?” he asks them.

  The woman shakes her head. “He is familiar with the territory.” The pinched line of her mouth matches the unsettled edge in her tone.

  Ren stiffens, his shoulders pulling back, which makes him look taller than he already is. “Scouts will return to search. For now, the bonder is priority.”

  By the time we reach the village my arms are burning, the throbbing pain intensifying with every step. I try and fail to stay silent as small grunts escape my throat. I really hope Kirahl has something up her sleeve for this. Ren escorts me all the way to my hollow, ushering me inside.

  Kirahl gasps when she looks up from the table. “What happened?”

  “I fell into a hole.” At her disbelieving look I add, “It was a big hole.”

  “Outlanders placed a pitfall,” Ren clarifies.

  “Taustin?” He nods and her expression turns grim. “You are fortunate your injuries are not worse. Come, they need to be treated.”

  I turn to Ren, but he’s gone. Vanished, like a ghost. “Where did he go?”

  “To speak with the elders. Outlanders have not set traps within the territory before.”

  Kirahl cuts my sleeves and peels away the torn pieces. My skin is a ragged, bloody mess. She rinses the scrapes clean before working out the embedded dirt. My jaw clenches at her ministrations, making me whimper when she touches the rawest areas.

  “Who’s Taustin?” I ask, trying to distract myself.

  “An outlander lord.” She keeps her gaze on my arm.

  “I take it he’s dangerous?”

  “He is ambitious.” She releases my arm and gestures for the other. “He seeks lordship over claimed lands, and he is relentless in obtaining them. He h
as succeeded with several outlander settlements, but there are those he has not been able to subdue. He has wanted to lay claim to the Laraek territory for a long time, but so far his attempts have failed.”

  I grimace when she comes across a bad spot. “And you think the trap was one of his?”

  “Few outlanders have issue with the Laraek. But of those that do, Taustin is the most aggressive. He is most likely the one responsible.”

  Kirahl turns back to the table and starts mashing herbs with a pale fluid until a paste forms. Leila’s asleep in bed, the sheen of sweat gone from her skin. She’s breathing easier than before.

  “She looks much better.”

  Kirahl brings the paste over. “She has taken well to the tonic.”

  “When will she wake up?”

  “Soon, perhaps.” She smears the paste over my arms with a practiced hand. “You will need clean clothes so these do not get infected.”

  I twist my paste-covered arm back and forth while Kirahl continues her work on the other. “Ryka said she’d have some ready for me and Leila by tonight.”

  “You should bathe before then.” She sets down the dish of paste and picks up a few large, leathery leaves from the herb pile. She wraps them around my forearms and ties them in place with crisscrosses of twine, knotting the ends at my elbows. “Someone should assist you.”

  The suggestion makes me balk. “I’m sure I’ll manage on my own.”

  She returns to the table and starts pulling small leaves and buds off different branches. “Best to be sure. I will send word when you are ready.”

  Sensing this is an argument I won’t win, I join her at the table and start stripping bark from the branches. As we work, she asks me about life back home, how long Leila and I have known each other, and what kind of medicines we use. Before long the questions come around to my own life and what I like to do.

  “Is there anyone on your plane you intend to be paired with?”

  The question catches me off-guard. “Paired?”

  “A mate pairing,” she clarifies.

  My cheeks warm. “No. There’s no one.”

  “Have there been potentials in the past?”

  Max’s face pops into my head for an instant, and I almost snort. “Not really.”

  Her hands still on the plants. “Are you not open to it?”

  Her tone draws my attention, and I get where she’s coming from. After all, elementals need to pass down the trait at some point. If one decides she doesn’t want kids, it becomes a problem.

  “No, I’m open to it,” I assure her, setting down a stripped branch and picking up another. “I just haven’t had time for…any of that.” She gives me a questioning glance as she resumes her work. “I’m usually too busy to spend time with many people.”

  And seventeen is a little young to start thinking about kids…

  “Some must have shown interest.”

  I give her a tight smile and decide to steer the conversation away from my personal life. “How are the pairs chosen here? Are they decided when the children are young, or can they pick who they want to be with?”

  Kirahl frowns, looking baffled. “Why would they be chosen beforehand?”

  “Royalty was well-known for it back home. They would gain power over lands by uniting bloodlines. Most of the time it was done to keep peace between countries—or to build strength in war.”

  Her brow rises with a half-tilt, half-shake of her head. “Your plane has strange people.” She grabs several stripped branches from in front of me and starts twisting them together. “We choose our mates here, though echoes do happen on occasion.”

  “Echoes?” I pick up a few branches, copying Kirahl’s technique as best I can.

  “Unions where the mates’ skills complement each other, such as a grower and a harvester. They mirror similar pairings from past generations.”

  “What are they for?”

  “We believe it’s nature’s way of ensuring our survival by strengthening the bloodlines.”

  “So people agree to it because it benefits the clan? Sounds like an arranged marriage to me.”

  Kirahl shakes her head, the movement small. “You misunderstand. The mates do not choose an echo—they are drawn to each other on instinct, even some who have never met before. It is said the connection can be quite intense.”

  The idea makes me frown. “You mean people fall in love without knowing each other first?”

  “No. In truth, it is more primal in the beginning, but an emotional connection is inevitable. The mates’ temperaments tend to be more compatible compared to others’.”

  A scoff comes out. “I remember hearing someone say once that love is nature’s way of tricking people into reproducing.”

  She smiles, an amused twinkle in her eye. “Nature can be clever.”

  We work in silence for a few minutes as I ruminate on the concept. I understand it, strange as it is, but something about it doesn’t sit right with me.

  “So…” I hesitate and Kirahl looks up. “What if an echo happens to someone who doesn’t want it? What if they have a mate, or want to be with someone else? Does the echo force them to give up what they want?”

  Her brows pull together the slightest bit. “Echoes are considered nature’s testament to a person’s strength, inside and out; a bloodline worthy of survival. Most are eager to accept them when they occur.”

  “Most,” I say, regarding her. “But not all?”

  “No,” she concedes. “Not all. An echo connection is strong, and rejecting it is said to be quite difficult. But if those affected choose to do so, then that is their right.” She gives me an understanding smile. “There is always a choice.”

  Movement at the entrance catches my eye, and I expect to see Ren step inside. Instead, it’s the woman from last night’s scouting party. Zaeza, the one who suggested I might be a bonder. No doubt Leila and I owe her our lives.

  “The elders have sent me to check on you.” She lifts one of my arms and inspects the leaf bandages. “Are your injuries bothersome?”

  I allow her to move my arm back and forth. “No, they’re fine.”

  She releases me. “The elders suspect Taustin issued the attack. Somehow he found out you are here. It is the most likely reason his people have trespassed into the territory.”

  I set down the branch knot in alarm. “Why would he be after me?”

  “He must have learned of your incomplete assimilation.” Kirahl shares an odd look with Zaeza. “He wants the territory. He has been attempting to claim it for a long time. If the clan possesses an elemental again, his prospects of gaining it essentially vanish.”

  “Because I’ll be able to defend it?”

  One of Zaeza’s brows lifts. “You know of the elemental’s function?”

  My jaw tightens as I recall the argument with Ren right before the attack. “It came up in conversation.”

  She purses her lips, her brows pulling together. “Engaging an elemental in combat is imprudent, especially when her core ability is unknown. If Taustin is to have any chance of overtaking the territory, he will need to remove you before the assimilation completes.”

  A tight lump forms in my throat. “So someone really is trying to kill me.”

  Kirahl puts a hand on my shoulder from across the table. “The clan will not let that happen. Ren will make certain of it.”

  “Scouts will be patrolling the village borders, myself included,” Zaeza says. “We are quite capable.”

  I manage a small smile out of politeness. “I’m sure you are.”

  “In the meantime”—she brightens—“there will be a union celebration tomorrow evening. The elders have requested your presence.”

  I blink. “Why?”

  “They may wish for you to experience the ceremony for the first time,” Kirahl replies.

  “Won’t the rest of the people there mind?”

  “Laraek blood is a part of you.” Zaeza leans her hip into the table. “Borne of this plane
or not, you are kin to this clan. And as such, your attendance is expected.”

  No idea how to argue with that. “Okay. Is there anything I’m supposed to do?”

  “Just observe the ceremony. The celebration after, though, will require your participation.”

  My lips twitch. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Zaeza smiles back. “I think you will enjoy yourself, but you will still need to err on the side of caution. Scouts will patrol the village perimeter at all times, and a sentry will guard your quarters. The elders have granted you the freedom to move within the village, but you are to notify the sentries whenever you go into the open.”

  Confusion has me staring at her for a few seconds, my mouth hanging. “After what happened earlier, I would think they’d rather keep me out of sight.”

  Zaeza clasps her hands at her back. “Your safety is our primary concern, but it can be ensured without confining you. If you prefer to remain in your quarters, that is your choice, but we will not force it on you. We want you to be at ease here.”

  “Oh.” I appreciate the thought, at least. “Well as long as there aren’t any more axes getting thrown at me, I should be fine.”

  “An axe?” Kirahl looks a little alarmed, her brows pulling together.

  “The outlander—it’s why I fell.”

  She shakes her head, looking to Zaeza. “The entire clan will need to exercise caution. Taustin is not known for his mercy.”

  “Ren is making the arrangements,” Zaeza replies, her gaze meeting mine. “He will check on you once the defense finishes preparations.”

  “I take it he’ll be doing that a lot now.” I can’t help the hint of annoyance that slips out.

  “Protecting the bonder is his primary function, even when axes are not involved.” She gives me a smile before turning and heading back outside.

  Her shadow retreats down the path toward the center. My thoughts are in a jumble as I turn back and find Kirahl watching me. I stiffen, self-conscious. “What?”

  Her head tips to the side. “Does Ren make you uncomfortable?”