The Betrayer - Prologue

The Betrayer – Prologue

         Finally, after nearly a year of carefully climbing down treacherous, snow-covered cliffs and navigating the rocky passages of the turbulent northern ocean, I had arrived.  The journey everyone thought impossible, I had accomplished, and I had done it with only two companions and a book of hazy and often maddening instructions...

         …Approach the coastline and dock where the rhododendrons bloom the thickest…

         So many times her instructions infuriated me, especially after days of no sleep and little food.  But soon I longed only to read these frustrating directions, for the ones which told me specifically what to do, rather than vaguely where to go, were much worse…

         ...Leave Kuvook behind, for the infection in his hip will kill him within the hour.  Kuvook knows this and will not argue…

         As Kuvook lay down by the rhododendron bushes, careful not to disturb the oozing wound which festered on his right hip, I crouched beside him, my throat raw and stretched with the strain of suppressing tears.  This was not fair.  Why must her instructions leave me so helpless?  Why couldn’t she have told me how to save him before it happened?
         Kuvook groaned and I settled down beside him, gently guiding his head to rest on my crossed legs, not caring at all that his fever sweat stained my robes.  I gazed down at him and his watery blue eyes gazed weakly back up.
         “Did she say this would happen to me?” Kuvook whispered.  “Did she predict this like she predicted Grintzo falling?”
         Tears welled up in my eyes, and I had to look away as I answered, “Yes.  She says I am to leave you here, that you don’t have a chance.”
         His chuckle was mostly air and little voice, but he managed a smile.  “A chance… Where will you go when you leave?”
         I grimaced.  Of all I wanted in the world, reading that cursed book now, as Kuvook lay dying in my lap, was the last thing.  But for him, I would do it.
         Flipping slowly through the pages so as not to accidentally read even a single word farther than I was supposed to, I found the next page of my journey.  “I am to ‘walk due south until dusk, when I will set up camp in a small grotto nestled into a hill beside a freshwater stream.’”
         Kuvook smiled as I stuffed the book back into my pouch.  “Sounds like a beautiful place,” he said.  “I wish I could go with you.  But this..” He looked around us, admiring the rhododendrons bushes, the cherry trees in bloom, the golden sand and blue ocean where our boat sat abandoned. “This is beautiful, too.  You and I are very lucky, Janetta, for how many Savans ever get to see the world beyond the Wall?”
         He gazed into my eyes and I leaned down, pressing my lips against his.  He kissed me back softly and sweetly, and for those brief moments, I could almost pretend he wasn’t dying. 
         When I pulled away, I could no longer contain my tears.  “Thank you,” I whispered, running my fingers through his hair.  “Thank you so much.”
         “What are you thanking me for?” he asked.
         “For everything.  For coming with me, for staying beside me throughout this journey no matter the danger.  And…” I paused to wipe the tears from my cheeks, “…and for kissing me back.  I’ve never… never kissed a man before.  I’ve never been allowed to get to know one, to care for one before.”
         His weak smile melted my heart.  “It has been an honor.  You are stronger than you know, Janetta, and you must leave me here now.  You are too close to stop following the instructions.”
         Still sobbing, I slowly pulled my legs from under his head and wobbled to my feet.  A gentle gust of sea air ruffled the flowering almond trees, and a shower of fragile pink petals swept through the space between us, several settling on Kuvook’s robes and in his dampened blue-blond hair. 
         His weak chuckle sounded once more, and he whispered, “Goodbye for now, Janetta.”
         New tears sprang up in my eyes, and my voice cracked as I whispered back, “Goodbye, Kuvook.”

                                                                                           

*  *  *

         Three weeks had passed since I left Kuvook, three weeks alone journeying through these dense Mockii forests.  Three weeks of only instructions on where to go, never what to do.

         …At the river, head upstream until you find a bridge.  Cross the bridge and continue to follow the river upstream…

         …Head due west at the waterfall…

         …Once at the tallest pine tree, which dwarfs all those surrounding, head south until reaching the graveyard of the city Venvii…

         …Using the cover of the trees, follow the southern trail from the graveyard until reaching a cluster of five round huts.  Two huts will be smaller than the others, and of these two, enter the one with only red candles burning inside…
         
         I nervously pushed back the curtained door of willow leaves on the first hut and peeked inside.  On a round, thick table in the center of the room burned four candles which softly illuminated the interior of the hut, furniture and baskets, water basins, and several leafy hammocks strung from the ceiling, stretched with the weight of sleeping bodies. 
         Squinting at the candles and holding up a hand to shadow my eyes from their light, I saw these candles were made of green and blue waxes.  Not one red candle.
         As quietly as possible, I crept back from the doorway and dropped the curtain back into place.  Taking a deep breath, I tiptoed to the second of the smallest huts and looked inside.  Two candles burned in the center of this hut, both the deep red of sweet cherries. 
         Noiselessly I crept into the hut, paused beside the candle table and looked around.  This hut had less furniture than the other, but in its place were stacks upon stacks of books and parchment, from new and well-kept to old and tattered.  Above, only one hammock hung from the ceiling, and from it came the sound of soft snores.
         I pulled my book of instructions from my pouch.  Only three pages remained unread.  By the dim light of the red candles, I read the first of these three pages.

         …Set the letter I have given you beside the candles, mindful to place it where it will not be touched by the dripping wax...

         From my pouch I pulled the letter and flipped it over in my hands.  On one side the envelope was stamped with a seal that I knew all too well.  But on the other side was strange writing in a language I’d never seen before.  I quietly set the letter on the edge of the candle table and flipped to the next page of my book, instantly confused and a bit alarmed by the sudden change in tone.

         …Your journey is almost over, Janetta, and I am certain you have done well.  Though you do not understand it, what you have done, and will do, will affect every inhabitant of Sava-Caroox, the Mock, and even Acrindena.  Though it may be hard for you to believe, I am immensely proud of you.
         I thank you, Janetta, for your loyalty and courage.  I am deeply indebted to you, as are we all.
         Forgive me.
         You may read the last page…

         Perplexed and scared by these odd words, my shaking fingers flipped to the final page of the book.

         …Using the copper-handled dagger I’ve given you, slit your throat where you stand, beside the candles and the letter.
         With this final act, you are free of my services.

         Free, I thought, slowly shutting the book and returning it to my pouch. 
         I’d become so entrenched in my enslavement, so deeply believed that I would serve until wrinkles covered my face and hands, always obeying her every command, that I’d long given up on the idea of freedom.
         My arms felt lighter than air, my heart swelling, eyes filling.  I felt only a distant connection to the cold metal dagger gripped in my hand, as though the hand were not truly my own, but someone else’s.
         In some other world, the man sleeping in the hammock above stirred, but did not wake.
         Freedom to make my own decisions.  Freedom to return to the rhododendrons, to the cascade of pink flowers.
         The blade slid across my neck, and my legs crumbled, but I was already far away.  I felt the sting, felt the choking, but I knew it would pass like all pains do, and once it did, I would no longer be a slave. 
         “We’ll be free together, Kuvook,” I whispered, but no sound formed, only motion.  My eyes rolled up and in no time at all, everything was whiteness and I was free.