Page 24 of The Garnet Daughter
“I was coming to find you to let you know we need the tower erected. It’s the only way. If we can get some volunteers, I can make a pully system. Maybe I could draw something so the elders understand.”
“Volunteers?” They do not want any of the villagers involved, and even if they approve, who knows if anyone would help us.
“It’s our only chance. The signal is too weak, even with the planets closer. We need the tower. I’m sorry.”
“No, you tried.” I look back at the village and see the group of hunters walking and people cheering as they parade through the walkway with the elders leading.
“What’s going on there? I assumed it was a Frithian wedding when I walked out to all the flowers.” He grins.
“It’s a conjunction holiday for the hunters. The elders won’t be back until they have killed enough for the celebration.”
“Who can we ask to help while they are gone?” he inquires with a serious edge.
“No one. Not without permission from them.” I look back at him, defeated.
“Alright.” He nods, frustrated, and then leans toward me, sensing my panic. “What did you need to talk about?”
A chill runs down my spine even in the heat of the midday sun when I find the words to share what the elders relayed about the creature that climbed out of the depths of the Estate.
On the walk back to the house, I tell August the new horrors we may face, but I leave out the nightmares I had last night, a detail that does not seem necessary to add to his worries.
Returning to Cosima will require more than we expected, and asking the elders’ blessing is the only way. We need other Frithians to raise the tower, and we must ask permission tonight during the celebration. I just hope it’s well received.
Chapter
Ten
August works at the kitchen table all evening on a drawing to show the elders how to raise the tower and how many people we need, hoping if they have a number, they will be more likely to allow it.
I suggest multiple times we should go try the signal again, but August is worried about frying something inside. My skin itches to fold the distance around the forest until I find the hunting party to ask the elders before they come back. To corner them in the dense woods and plead my case, August’s crude drawing in hand.
It takes the hunting party hours to return. I can hear them from where I anxiously sit on my porch before I see their torches. The communal fire is now roaring and sending sparks high into the dusky sky.
“I hope there’s wine.” August steps out of the doorway, folding the plans and placing them in his back pocket.
“There will be.” I say and track a couple already swaying and laughing heads toward the celebration.
August is wearing another Frithian tunic Ruth brought for him. It’s dark like the Viathan clothes he came in but enough toblend in and stop some from being reminded he does not belong here.
“How do you want to play this?” he asks.
“They are cheering, which means it was a successful hunt and they are likely in lifted spirits. Now is the time to ask tough questions, not tomorrow when their guts are sour from drink. Once the music and dancing starts, it will be an easy distraction to get close to the elders.”
We wait until darkness takes over the celebration, the torches lighting the pathway we need to travel. Meat-scented smoke wafts in our direction and makes my stomach growl.
We walk under the long row of arches decorated with flowers and grass until we reach the center of the village. August has dined in the circle before, when he was merely a Viathan representative. Things were so different for us then. We did not know each other like we do now, both fascinated by our differences.
A large boar roasts over the fires where the food is prepared. I guide us in that direction, weaving through the cheerful people. Some smile and touch my shoulder as they pass, and others stare without a word. When I look back at August, he already has a drink and sips from it while he watches the celebration with wide eyes.
“Thank you.” I take a plate extended to me as we approach the food, piled high with the day’s kill and the bounty collected from the forest.
We sit on a large tree stump and share the meal, doing our best to blend in.
“This is different from last time,” August says so close to my ear, it tickles. The drums mixed with the constant stream of laughter and voices makes it almost impossible to talk.
I nod and lean in tightly to reply. “The elders are sitting in the same spot as always.”
I watch as the women I have known my whole life dance around the fire, mothers and sisters I have celebrated with before. Had I not left this world, Selene and I would be with them now, their movements synchronized and graceful. They start alone, and then their partners join, circling the bonfire and smiling as if they have no worries. Ruth dances with her husband, his awkwardly tall build mimicking her steps as she laughs.
