The Fire Sisters (Brilliant Darkness 3)

Nerang chats with others in the first language of the
anuna,
the people of Koolkuna. I have no idea what the talented healer is saying, but it doesn’t matter. The warm tone of his voice tells me he’s happy to be part of our celebration. We’re only waiting for our friend, Arika, and her children, Kora and Darel, to arrive. I won’t start without them.

I can’t see the group gathering nearby—Groundlings, Lofties, and the
anuna
—but I still hear echoes of their well wishes as we entered the clearing to stand beside the water hole. I smell the musky scent of the heather burning over greenheart wood in the fire, a combination I was told would encourage love and longevity for our union. I feel Peree’s warm, bow-callused hand clasping mine now. And I taste his last kiss on my lips, a sweet drizzle of honeysuckle.

Everything is perfect—a validation of all we worked so hard to accomplish, a small recompense for what we lost as we led our people to safety in Koolkuna.

My thoughts are splintered by the sudden noise of a woman’s shrill screams and shouts, coming from the path to the village.

“Help! Help me!”

Peree pulls me close, and fear punctures my heart.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“I don’t know.”

The woman reaches the clearing, her feet slapping unevenly against the dry ground, as if she stumbles as she runs.

“It’s Arika. Her head is bleeding.” Peree’s normally musical voice is low and rough.

What?
Is she all right? Did she fall and hit her head or something?

Nerang ministers to her, speaking softly. I tug Peree forward to hear what they’re saying.

“Tell us what happened,” the healer asks.

“They took the
guru
,” Arika cries. “The children are gone!”

Gone?
My body tingles.

“What do you mean?” a man says.

“Took them?” a woman asks, her voice rising. “Which of the
guru
?”

“Let her speak.” Nerang’s firm words are lined with distress.

“Frost and I… led a small group of
guru
into the forest to gather wildflowers for the ceremony.” Arika chokes on her tears. “We were on our way here, when we… we were attacked. They were all taken!”

“Thrush was with Frost!” Moon gasps.

“He was there. Kora and Darel were with us,” Arika says with fresh sobs, “and four others. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. They are gone.”

Horror rushes through me. “I don’t understand… who took them?”

“What did they look like?”

“Which way did they go?”

People shout over each other, their voices loud, harsh, and frightened. I can’t tell anyone apart. The clamor hurts my ears and makes me dizzy. Peree puts a steadying arm around me; I clutch his waist to ground myself.

“Quiet!” Nerang says. “
Who
took the
guru
, Arika?”

“I don’t know.” She pants. “They came suddenly… out of the trees. They wore strange clothes, and their hair was painted… they carried weapons, and… and they were all women. I tried to keep hold of Kora and Darel, but one of the women put a blade to my throat. She struck me with the butt and took them away.” Her voice breaks.

Peree hisses out a breath. I feel faint.

“There were no men?” Kaiya asks sharply.

“No, no. Only those terrible women.”

“Were there colorful feathers at their waists, like the one in Myall’s hair?” Kai says.

“Yes!”

Peree’s feather?

“We must follow them,” a man yells. Others shout, agreeing.

“It won’t do any good.” Kai sounds shaken. “Those feathers are their mark.”

“Whose mark?”

“The women who took me away when I was a child. The Fire Sisters.”

Arika moans. I put a hand on my friend’s shoulder.

“
Why
did they take the children, Kai?” Peree asks.

“The Sisters live without men.” Her voice is bleak. “They gather girls from other groups to survive.”

We erupt with fresh cries.

“We will catch them!” Derain, Arika’s partner, says. “Can you lead us to where they attacked you?”

She says she can. Running feet pound out of the clearing.

“Kadee’s here,” Peree says to me. He places my hands in a smaller, softer pair, and his lips brush the top of my head. “I’m going ahead.”

“Peree—!” I don’t have time to tell him to be careful. He’s gone with the others.

Kadee, my natural mother, holds my arm as we run after the group, following footfalls and the sounds of parents calling their children’s names. We reach the path to the village, but rather than turning that way, we enter the forest ahead, pushing through the grasping arms of trees and bushes.

We stop in a clearing—the light brightens and I’m no longer surrounded by vegetation. Frightened voices flutter around me, birds flushed from their nests by a predator.

“Do you see anything?” I ask Kadee.

“Only the trees and our own people.” Her hand is icy on my arm.

A poisonous brew of dread and helplessness oozes through my body. I close my eyes and listen for any sound of the children.

“Which way did they go?” someone yells.

“Here,” a woman shouts in a quivery voice. “The bushes are crushed!”

Kadee pulls me in that direction. We crash into the woods again as people fall in behind us. Branches and brambles claw at me again, drawing stinging trails along my face and arms.

We move this way and that, following those in front. I’m jostled and jerked, but I can only think of Kora and the other children.

A battle cry pierces the air over our heads as if the trees themselves scream out. The voices are feminine and fierce. They aren’t the wails of the sick ones, the Scourge, but the same prickling feeling crawls along my scalp.

Those ahead of us shout warnings as what sounds like spears whistle past, hammering into the trunks of trees all around us. I freeze, my heart rocketing in my chest, waiting for the agonized screams of the injured.

“Back! Go back!” a man yells.

We all turn and run the way we came. People push and shove into Kadee and me, and in the confusion, I lose her and stumble. Another, larger hand grabs my arm, righting me.

“I’ve got you.”

Peree
. I gasp, relieved to hear his voice. He puts my hand back in Kadee’s and positions himself behind us, probably to shield us, as we charge away with the rest. When we reach the clearing again, people begin to shout.

“Does anyone have a weapon?” Peree yells. “A bow? A knife? Anything?”

“No!” a man says. “Why would we be armed at a partnering ceremony?”

Why indeed? Few dangers lurk in Koolkuna. Because of the Myuna, the village’s pure, underground water source that supplies its water hole, we aren’t even exposed to the poison that creates the monstrous illusion of the Scourge.

“The armory!” A group of people sprint noisily from the clearing, heading toward the village to collect weapons.

“There were knives for the feast back at the Myuna. I’ll get them.” It’s Bear, my old Groundling friend. His voice is grim.

Peree touches my hand. “I’m going for my bow.” He tears away again.

Nerang’s voice rings out. He sounds as upset as I’ve ever heard him. “Amarina, Derain, Konol, track the
guru
. Stay far enough behind to be safe.”

Branches crack and leaves rip as bodies push into the trees, moving slower—more cautiously—this time.

“The rest of you remain here,” Nerang says. “Do not approach these intruders again. Their spears were warnings only. If they had wanted to kill us, they could have.”

“I am not standing around while my daughter is taken from under my nose by
lorinyas
!” a man shouts.

The forest swallows the sound of his running footsteps a moment later.
Lorinyas.
Strangers. That’s what
we
were to the
anuna
until recently
.

“We cannot wait, Nerang,” a woman says. “We should go after the
guru
!”

“Of course we will. But we must have weapons to defend ourselves. You cannot help your
guru
if you are dead. Now, which of the children are missing besides Kora and Darel?”

Arika whimpers at the sound of her children’s names. My heart contracts with fear for Kora, my first companion in Koolkuna. I can feel her small hand as she led me around the village, gossiping about her people through the observations of her doll, Bega. Darel, her younger brother, is only four years old. They
can’t
be gone.

“My brother, Thrush.” Moon, the partner of Peree’s cousin, Petrel, sounds destroyed. Her newborn, Yani, howls. The baby’s name means
hope
in the
anuna’s
language. Hope feels far away now.

Exuberant and pesky Thrush reminded me so much of my own brother, Eland, when he was younger. Pain rips through me as I think of them, our brothers who only met once. One is dead. One is now missing.

The parents and guardians of the children say the names of their beloved. Seven in all were taken, five girls and two boys.

“And Frost.” I recognize Conda’s voice, one of the younger brothers of my Groundling tormentor—and protector—Moray. “But I don’t understand why they took her and not Arika.”