She smiled at her friend and said, “Come in. You don’t have to wait at the door like a stranger. Dinner is almost ready.” As he passed, Glissa noticed that Kane had combed his short, black hair since their hunt and had polished his arms and legs. The copper relief of the etched runes he had received when he’d become one of the Chosen shone in the gelfruit light hanging in the main chamber.
Another tingle ran down Glissa’s spine. She wondered if the polish was meant to impress her, her mother, or the trolls. Probably all three, she thought, even though she hoped it was only meant for her.
She ushered her friend into the main room and sat down with him at the table. Glissa knew that Kane had always been in awe of her house. It was larger than most Viridian homes. The main room seemed like a huge knothole cut from the Tangle tree. The circular opening led into a room that was big enough for kitchen, dining room, and parlor. Familiar spires exited the room at odd angles, forming bedrooms and storage rooms.
There were only four of them-Glissa, her mother and father, and her little sister, Lyese-but Father was an important figure in the Tangle and would never give up the comfort or the safety of this house, even if it was too big for their needs. They were near the center of the Tangle and high up in the terraces where the levelers never ventured. Glissa loved the house and the family position that allowed them to live there, although the stress of being her father’s daughter had often kept her apart from her peers.
“Where is everyone?” asked Kane, pulling Glissa from her reverie.
“Putting on their formal attire just like you,” said Glissa. She was still wearing her hunting jerkin, but she had found time to cull the tangles from her hair. Mother had even allowed her some of their precious water to wash the blood from her hands and face.
“I … er … I’m going on duty right after dinner,” said Kane. “I had to wear …”
Glissa poked Kane in the ribs and laughed. “Don’t be so defensive,” she said. “You’re too easy a target when you get like this. Mother’s out getting more water from the rain basin, and Father had some important council business. Lyese is up in her spire making herself pretty. I think she likes you.”
Kane blushed. “She’s half my age. She’s never even been through a rebuking ceremony. I-”
Glissa was laughing again. “Don’t worry about her. She’s still a girl. She doesn’t realize there are more important things in life than men.”
Kane looked as if he were waiting for Glissa to laugh again, but instead she pulled her chair closer to his.
“Listen,” she said. “I’m glad we have a moment alone. I have something serious to talk to you about.”
“Oh?” said Kane. A tentative smile formed on his lips. “Is there someone …?”
Glissa put her hand up. “No,” she said. “It’s not that. I’m not ready be anyone’s mate, not yet. I’m a warrior, not a wife.”
“Then why didn’t you join the Chosen?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, truthfully. “I’ve always felt my path led somewhere else.”
“I know,” said Kane. “Someplace where no one else can follow. You live your life apart from the world, Glissa. When are you going to join the rest of us and live here in the Tangle?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” said Glissa. She looked down at her hands and remembered the flare, the pale skin, and the magical tendrils of energy. “I’m not going to attend the rebuking ceremony.”
“You’re what?” cried Kane. He stood up, nearly knocking over his chair.
Glissa looked up at her friend. “Why do we have the flares?” she asked.
Kane snorted at the simplicity of the question. “We have them because the memories are too painful to keep inside us any longer,” he said. “That why we need the rebuking ceremony: to purge those memories and remove the pain.”
Glissa reached out and pulled on Kane’s hand to get him back in his chair. “That’s what the trolls tell us, but why do the trolls not attend the ceremony? Why do they write down our history on the Tree of Tales? If memory is so painful, why record it?”
“This again?” he asked. “The trolls are not our enemies, Glissa. They record our history on the Tree of Tales so that we can forget. Those who want to know our past consult the troll elders. The rest of us are free from it.”
Glissa held Kane’s hand and looked into his eyes. “I want you to understand,” she said. “I’ve read the Tree-all of it. The Tree of Tales only goes back a few hundred cycles. The earliest runes have been removed. I know there is more to our history than we are being told. The only way to find out what the trolls are keeping from us is to not go through the ceremony. I have to do this, Kane, and I’d like you to do it with me. I need your support. I … I need you.”
Kane looked at the floor for a long time. Glissa wondered if his affection for her would be enough to overturn a lifetime of obedience. It was not.
“I … cannot,” he said finally. “Look, I believe in the trolls. They have always been good to us. I serve them, for flare’s sake. I just can’t defy them.”
“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?” asked Glissa, wondering if her trust would be her undoing again.
Kane took a deep breath. “No,” he said. “You are my friend. I will keep your secret. But why tell me any of this?”
“Because I … I care for you, Kane,” said Glissa. Before he could react, she said hastily, “And my flares have been getting worse. I need help.”
“Good evening, Kane,” came a lilting voice from behind them.
Glissa looked up to see her little sister coming from a spire room and let out a long sigh. “We’ll talk more tomorrow,” she said softly to Kane. “I think your time is about to be monopolized.”
Lyese was beautiful. Glissa had to admit that. She was taller than Glissa and kept her arms and legs shining brightly. The gelfruit light in the room practically glittered off her copper limbs. Glissa never bothered polishing because the molder actually helped her blend in with the Tangle trees. But Lyese was no hunter, except when Kane was around. Glissa knew that if she refrained from giving in to stronger feelings for Kane, she would lose her only friend to her persistent younger sister.
Tonight, Lyese had woven small gelfruits into her long hair, giving her a radiant, almost angelic presence as she descended into the room. Yes, she’s on the prowl tonight, thought Glissa.
“I love your uniform, Kane,” said Lyese as she pulled him away from the table and into the parlor area near the door. “Tell me all about the trolls. Father never talks about them.”
Kane looked desperately at Glissa, but luckily for both of them her mother came back with the water. “Good evening, Kane,” she said as she passed through the sitting area on her way to the kitchen. “Dinner will be ready soon. Lyese, would you please help Glissa set the table?”
Kane sat down and breathed a sigh of relief. Glissa stared at him for a moment. Would it be so terrible to settle down and make a home with Kane? she thought. No, it wouldn’t be terrible at all. It just wouldn’t be her. She could never be like Lyese. There was more to life for Glissa than appearance, manners, and conformity. If she and Kane were to have a life together, it would have to be as equals … assuming he could keep up with her.
* * * * *
When Glissa’s father came home, they all sat down at the table. Glissa’s mother poured a half mug of water for everyone, then passed around a plate of crisped molder slugs as an appetizer and a platter piled high with broiled slagwurm steaks. Kane bit into his steak and said, “I thought for certain you’d make stew from that vorrac that Glissa dropped off the ledge, ma’am.”
Glissa kicked at Kane under the table, but the Chosen warrior had already pulled his legs from the way.
“I would have,” replied Glissa’s mother, “but we’ve used most of our water rations already this week, and Lyese hates blood stew, so I traded the carcass and an extra ration of water for these steaks. I hope they’re not too dry.”