His voice sent shivers through Zanna’s body like nothing she had ever felt before. Alise darted toward them in the semi darkness, terror flashing in her silvery eyes. Zanna snapped the book shut and gripped its cold leather cover. Confusion reverberated through her body along with the electricity of Mikelo’s voice.

“Stop,” Mikelo commanded as Alise reached them. She complied instantly and stood frozen before them, her eyes glaring. Zanna could feel the younger girl’s anger.

In the distance, off on the hilltop, they all could hear the preparations for the ceremony. A string band played lilting music as assorted creatures strung lanterns on a wooden platform where the chosen one would die. Artists set up their easels at the foot of the stage, ready to capture the moment.

Sensing danger, Zanna thrust the book into the air. “Here, have your book,” she said to Mikelo, momentarily breaking the tension.

“No, you keep it,” Mikelo directed. “You’ll need it.” As he spoke, Zanna felt him move behind her, his hands finding the knotted lacing holding her braid in place. His deliberate movements paralyzed and energized her at once. “We’ll have our own ceremony,” he said as if to himself.

Alise, seeing Mikelo’s attention diverted, swiftly bent and reached into her boot. Transfixed, Zanna saw the flash of metal against the girl’s dark skin. Mikelo’s hands moved in her hair, unwinding the braid, and Zanna felt her hair fall loosely over her shoulders once more.

She turned toward Mikelo and saw him wrapping the lacing around his hands. The music was louder and faster now, the ceremony just moments away.

“You’ll want to cut my throat,” Mikelo said to Alise, who nodded. “Once the two of us are dead, slit your own wrists, too. We’ll need you to come.” Mikelo’s lulling voice gave them the feeling of time standing still. Zanna’s heart raced but she didn’t dare move. She stayed in her place, kneeling in front of Mikelo.

“See you on the other side,” he said to Zanna as he reached over her head and pulled the cord tight around her throat. The pain was sudden and dull. A few seconds later everything went dark.

When Zanna slumped to the ground on top of the giant book, Alise lunged at Mikelo, her knife flashing.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “After all this time, it will feel good to die,” he met her eyes with a sly smile as the metal met his throat. He fell heavily and his cloak tangled around Alise’s feet. Alise didn’t bother to wipe his blood from her knife before she slashed her own wrists, just as he had wanted.

Days later, some wandering creatures found the trio tangled together in death at the edge of the trees and called it a mystery.

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As they moved farther away from the group, Zanna could feel the unfamiliar weight of the wings melt between her shoulder blades. They were not real; she would never fly. These were only a disguise, yet where they rested she could feel a new energy forming.

Alise pulled her by the hand, urging her toward the looming trees. “Come,” the girl told her, silver eyes flashing with impatience. “He may be waiting already.”

Zanna could feel the tension in the girl’s grip. She did her best to keep up, and surprisingly, her ankle began to feel better as she moved. The cold night air chilled her as they moved away from the fires, and she wished for warmer clothing. Her wings did cut the wind a bit, but she needed a heavier garment. A cloak.

The moon led them to the edge of the forest. In a pool of light, Zanna sank down to the ground and opened to the beginning of the book she had been carrying. She began to read as Alise paced the tree line. Zanna found the words written on the pages cryptic yet somehow familiar. As best she could tell in the dim light, the pages contained a description of an unusual girl. A girl half-loved, worshipped and rejected. A girl with talents and gifts. A girl who set out on her own in the world. It was the kind of beginning that begged for action. What would the girl do? Zanna caught herself wondering and she did what she always did, she flipped to the back of the book. Yet she found the pages at the back of the book empty. Turning toward the middle, she sighed to find the pages bare. Only the beginning of the story had been written. How unfortunate, she thought.

Just then, Alise let out a yelp in the distance. Then she felt his hand on her back just where her wings rested.

“You’ve found my book,” Mikelo said into her ear.

 

This week’s Trifecta submission, including the third definition of the word melt: to make tender or gentle, soften. If you like it, read the rest here.

Alise ran quickly towards the nearest cook fire and helped herself to several skewers of meat. Zanna needed to eat, she could feel it. The woman’s hunger made her stomach ache. Then she turned back towards the queue, and plowed ahead into the mass of creatures, carrying the dripping skewers and hurrying toward the place where Zanna had fallen.

She found Zanna sitting on the ground, wrapped in feathers and already eating a skewer of meat. A kindly old beast stood by her, keeping watch over her. A grayish owl looked on from the beast’s back. Zanna was attracting attention already, Alise realized. Everyone has eyes around here, she thought. It’s a good thing they don’t know what they’re seeing.

“Here you go,” Alise announced to Zanna, an edge to her voice. She thrust the skewers of meat at Zanna.

Zanna looked up, and immediately smiled. She looked deeply into Alise’s eyes, which now shown in the dark. “Oh, hello,” she said, smiling. “Thank you. How did you know how hungry I am?” she laughed, taking the skewers. “Eat with me?” she asked.

“No,” Alise answered, but she crouched down next to Zanna. A few other creatures circled around them with their dinners, creating an impromptu picnic. Alise looked around, uncomfortable. Feeling out of control made her suspicious. And she was as hungry as Zanna, but she wouldn’t eat yet.

“Mikelo is searching for you,” she told Zanna. Zanna looked at her and raised her eyebrows in surprise. Her expression changed from hopeful to confused. Alise moved behind Zanna, reaching for her long dark hair. She began to braid it. “Why does he want you?” she asked Zanna, tugging on her hair.

“I don’t know,” a bit of fear crept into Zanna’s voice.

“You want to find him too, don’t you?” Alise continued the braid.

“Yes,” Zanna answered, nearly whispering. She had abandoned her meal.

Alise finished the braid and reached for a leather cord in her pocket. She wrapped the cord tightly around the older woman’s hair and knotted it. “I’m Alise. Mikelo sent me to get you. If you’re finished eating, then come,” Alise pulled the braid. “Let’s go to him.”

Zanna stood shakily on her injured ankle, bending to lift the heavy book. It would be difficult to carry. “May I take it?” she asked the llama, who nodded. She smiled a goodbye to him.

“Here,” Alise lifted the feathers and set them on Zanna’s shoulders. She doubted they would work but they would help the strange woman draw less attention. “This way,” she took Zanna’s hand, leading her back toward the trees, both walking now.

The full moon was rising, golden in the graying sky, casting its eerie light over the crowd. The chosen had been whisked away to their tent beyond the hill where the priestesses still asked their questions. Those who had not been chosen were eating their suppers around the cook fires that lit the gloom.

Alise could always see better in the dusk. She steered clear of the lines, in favor of wandering between them. To her left, up on the hill, she could make out the billowing white wool of the women’s gowns. In the cool moonlight, textures became more pronounced, and her eyes could feel as well as see.

She came to a parting in the crowd, suddenly finding herself out in the open. Her heart jumped as she saw Mikelo ahead of her. She stood still and fixed him in her glowing gaze. He noticed. Others usually did. He strode to her, a faint smile on his face – more of a smirk, Alise thought.

“You have beautiful eyes,” Mikelo spoke. She didn’t answer.

“Tell me, what are you called?”

“Alise.”

He looked intently into her eyes. “And Alise, why do you follow me?” He seemed to already know the answer.

Mikelo’s face was dark and angular, and angry. He liked to have his way. Alise knew how the other woman eluded him. She could see the lines of frustration on his face.

“You’re not here for them,” Mikelo nodded toward the priestesses. “I can see that. You are following me,” he took a step closer, towering over her. “If you’re going to lurk after me, you should know that I’m looking for a woman.”

“I know,” she said.

“Then help me find her,” Mikelo demanded. The shadows of his face should have scared her; they did scare her, but she felt something new twisting inside her at the sound of his voice, at the way he spoke to her. He left her no choice.

He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around so that she was facing away from him. Alise saw that they had attracted quite an audience as the creatures turned in their lines to face the commotion. They looked vaguely concerned. “Go. Bring her to me,” Mikelo spoke into her ear. “We’ll meet at the treeline,” he commanded.