He crouched beside me, speaking in a low rumble. The words were a torrent of unfamiliar sounds, a language I did not know. I shrank back, pressing myself against the rough bark of a tree, my breath catching in my throat. I couldn’t understand his words, but his tone—gentle and questioning—held no hint of aggression. His eyes, dark and intense, were filled with concern,not malice. Still, fear, a wild animal trapped within my chest, clawed at me, urging me to flee.
He gestured toward my injured leg, his brow furrowed. He spoke again, the sounds soft, almost a whisper. He hesitantly reached out a hand, as if afraid to startle me.
I flinched again, but didn’t pull away. His touch, when it came, was surprisingly gentle. His fingers carefully probed the wound, eliciting a sharp hiss of pain from me. He murmured something low and soothing, his words still incomprehensible yet strangely comforting.
My gaze fell upon the pendant hanging around his neck.
A gasp escaped my lips. The world seemed to tilt, the sounds of the jungle fading to a dull roar. It was aSeolais. Identical to the ones my family possessed, a symbol of our heritage, of the sacrifices our ancestors had made. A piece of my soul was hanging on the chest of a human.
How? How could he have one? The fragile trust I had begun to build shattered into a million pieces—suspicion, sharp and cold, coiled in my gut.
He looked up at me, his eyes searching mine, and spoke again. This time, something impossible happened. The strange sounds he made did not just enter my ears, they resolved in my mind, blooming into meaning with perfect clarity. It was as if theSeolaisitself was a key, and seeing it had unlocked a door between our worlds.
“Can you understand me?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.
I nodded, my voice trapped somewhere deep within the shock that still held me captive.
“I can help,” he said, his words now as clear as a river stone. “My name is Caio.”
“Luzia,” I managed to whisper back.
The magic of his words did nothing to lessen the shock of the pendant. Why would he show kindness to a stranger, a creature as alien and exposed as I, while wearing a trophy of my people? His gentle demeanor was at war with the stolen history resting on his skin.
He spoke again, the translated words forming effortlessly in my mind.
“Where are you staying?” he asked, his voice gentle.
The question caught me off guard. Staying? I hadn’t thought about staying. My only focus had been reaching the Glade of Whispers, finding theFlor da Lua, and saving Inaiá. I couldn’t tell him that. Not yet. “At… the campsite,” I stammered, the lie necessary for my survival.
He shook his head, his expression troubled. “That’s no place for you to be, injured like this. Your ankle…” he trailed off, gently probing my swollen joint. “I don’t think it’s broken, but you need to rest it.” He paused, his eyes scanning my form. “Why don’t you have any bags with you? Were you robbed?”
Robbed. It seemed a plausible explanation, one that required no further elaboration.
“Yes,” I whispered, the word barely audible.
“Did they hurt you?” His eyes, filled with a depth of caring I couldn’t comprehend, held my gaze captive. I found myself drawn to them, compelled to answer truthfully.
“No,” I replied, the word feeling strange and unfamiliar on my tongue. “I… I fell.”
He sighed, a sound heavy with some unspoken conflict. “Lucky I came by then.” My hand, drawn as if by an unseen force, reached out to touch the pendant.
“You like this?” he asked, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Encantado,” I whispered, the name of the pink dolphins escaping my lips before I could stop it. I instantly regretted speaking, the word a key to a world I wasn’t ready to share.
His smile widened. “That’s right, the pink dolphins. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”
He had no idea. He couldn’t possibly understand the significance of the pendant, theSeolais, the weight it carried, the history it represented. He saw a trinket, a pretty ornament. I saw the legacy of my people, a symbol of a past he had no right to claim. And in that moment, the fear returned, stronger than before, twisting the budding attraction into a knot of suspicion and distrust.
Why did he have it?
Where did he get it?
And what does it mean?
CHAPTER 7
Caio
