CHAPTER 2
The storm raged above my garden as my fingers ran through the black dirt that felt as soft as butter. I crooned and sang softly to the acorlis as I plucked one after another of the ripe large root vegetable from its underground vine.
Its bright orange skin shone like the sun as I stuffed each vegetable deep into the pockets of my cloak. As I slashed through the vine’s bounty, I thanked it for its life that would sustain our bellies through the long winter.
Despite the angry storm, I worked until it was so dark that I could barely see the thick vine snaking through the soil. I’d pulled over twenty feet of it and still hadn’t found the end.
“You grew quite deeply into our Mother, didn’t you, my friend?” I murmured to it, then stood and brushed dirt from my pants and cloak. “I shall have to finish tomorrow, though. For now, I think we should both rest. Don’t you?”
I gave the acorlis a gentle pat before hurrying to the shed to grab a large bucket. Snow and ice needled my skin when I stepped over my garden’s barrier. It was so cold that for a moment, my breath caught.
Closing my eyes against the storm’s biting sting, I carefully made my way back to my garden. Once the bucket was overflowing with the succulent vegetable, I struggled to stand under its heavy weight.
Wind raged outside of the field, but despite the gale, my garden shone like an oasis, the colors vibrant and beautiful amidst the winter landscape.
“Goodbye, my friends. I shall see you tomorrow,” I called when I reached my garden’s edge.
A small smile curved my lips even though my arms were aching and my back sore. I held the bucket tightly as I trudged through the snow, struggling to get to the house.
When I reached it, I kicked the back door open just as goosebumps of awareness prickled the nape of my neck.
I swung around as Cailis leaped out of her chair by the fire to grab the bucket from my hands.
“What are you waiting for?” Cailis asked as she tried to pull me inside.
My feet planted at the threshold. Nothing but darkness, cold, and swirling snow stared back at me from our yard. But I felt . . . something.
I shook my head and rubbed my neck again. “Nothing,” I said sheepishly. “For a moment . . . I thought I was being watched, but there’s no one out there. It’s nothing.”
Cailis rolled her eyes. “You’re probably just tired. You were working for over two hours. Come on inside and clean up.” She eyed the bucket of acorlis, her eyes widening. “So many!”
“There’s more. That’s only from one vine.”
“One?” Cailis’s eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Didn’t you plant six acorlis seeds this summer?”
“I did.”
“You mean, there could be six times this much? But this bucket alone is what a dozen vines normally produce.”
“I know. Amazing, isn’t it?” I grinned. “There’s still more on the first vine too. It got so dark that I couldn’t finish.”
“How is that possible?”
I shrugged and finally shut the door behind me as warmth from the fire kissed my cheeks. “The Mother has blessed us.”
A hopeful expression stole over Cailis’s features. “If there truly are as many as you say, we definitely won’t starve this winter.”
I took off my snow-laden cloak and hung it near the fire to dry, then loosened my braided hair and ran my fingers through the soft locks, not looking at its embarrassing black color as I worked the strands free.
Cailis shook her head, transfixed by the bucket, her face still a mask of wonder. “So many.”
I held my hands to the fire, warming them as my smile returned.
Cailis picked a few acorlis and placed them on the counter, excitement buzzing around her. “These will be delicious with a drizzle of syrup. I think we have a little bit left. I’ll boil a few for dinner while you’re washing up.”
After drying my damp hands, I made my way to the bathing chamber and stripped my dirty clothes before peeking out the window’s curtain. A pot of water heated over the chamber’s fire, and goosebumps pimpled my skin in the chill air as I waited for it to warm.
With the curtain parted just enough for me to peer outside, that strange feeling swam through me again. Something was out there.
Watching. Waiting.
But all that stared back at me in the glass was my own reflection as the storm continued to rage.
Shivering, I dropped the curtain.
I held onto my bowl as Cailis and I waited in line at our village’s field kitchen. The large one-room barn provided our only shelter and a place to rest during our breaks from laboring. The wooden benches and sturdy tables that filled its expanse were a welcome reprieve from the long days on our feet.
Wind still howled through the barn’s vertical wall slats since they weren’t perfectly sealed, but a fire was always roaring in the kitchen’s hearth, and the flames beneath the cooks’ pots took the chill from the air.
Around me, the other field laborers from my village waited patiently for their bowls to be filled. Those in the front of the line joked and laughed, while those in the back wore irritated expressions. By the time they would be served, there would only be minutes to eat before the bell struck to return to the crops.
It’d been a rough morning since the weekend storm had raged for two straight days, dumping three feet of snow by the time it finished. No one had been able to fly during the gale yesterday since the air currents had been so strong, but today the sun burned bright and was quickly melting most of the autumn snow.
Still, even our field’s orem hadn’t been enough to clear the snow completely as was common in the winter months but less so in autumn, so we’d spent most of the morning scraping snow from the land. Thankfully, beneath the heavy piles of white flakes, the plants shone bright and healthy. Their leaves seemed to expand before my eyes, welcoming the low-lying sun that kissed their stalks. Seeing that always brought a smile to my lips.
“Good thing we wore our thick boots today,” Cailis said as her wings wrapped around her upper arms, giving her extra warmth from the autumn chill.
I tightened the scarf that covered my head and made sure it was still pulled low over my brow. Everyone in my village knew of my hair color, but I still didn’t like advertising it.
“Yes, I was thinking the same. My toes are already curling from the thought of what winter will bring.” I tapped my work boots, and snowflakes fell from them.