The camp gave way to darkness, the lights from the fires becoming an orange haze at her back, but her night vision kicked in, making the most of what little moonlight filtered through the branches overhead as she made her way back to her treehouse to change.
CHAPTER TWO
Aelia’s legs felt leaden as she climbed the stairs that wrapped around the enormous tree trunk to her home. The blue light of dawn was softened by the mist that hung between the trees, distorting the chorus of birdsong that celebrated the new day. Her damp clothes clung to her skin, but she welcomed the mist and the cover it brought. Although the chances of being spotted this early were slim after last night’s celebrations, she welcomed any help she could get. The rabbits she’d shot were safely wrapped in her bag, away from prying eyes, but she didn’t need anyone asking questions.
She’d been out later than she’d planned, taking longer to reach the eastern quadrant Fenrir had suggested she stick to. She grabbed hold of the bannister to help her exhausted legs up the last few steps. Pausing at her front door, she turned on the balcony that hugged the circumference of the treehouse to look out over Callodosis.
For all its faults, her village was undoubtedly beautiful, and with the gentle light of dawn permeating the thick coverage of leaves above, it still took her breath away. The villagers had tried their best to work with nature when building their little wooden houses, either tucking them between trunks at groundlevel with ornate simplicity or perching them in the forks of the largest branches, some so high they were barely visible from the ground. Designs varied dramatically, accommodating the unique structure of each tree. Some twisted and curved to make the most of narrower gaps between the enormous branches, whereas others were long and square, spread over two or three supporting trees.
Her own was simple by comparison, a single structure encircling the trunk of the ancient tree that lifted them high into the canopy, towering over almost all the others. The assorted gables tucked between the monumental branches, making the most of space wherever the great oak allowed, and oddly shaped windows had been carved out of the thick wooden walls. Though far from luxurious, Aelia loved every cosy inch of it. With Otis unable to Shift because of his arm, and her own magical failings, she’d had to work damn hard to be able to afford to keep fixing it. Being so high took its toll on the building, and the cost of keeping it safe was eye-watering, which is why so many humans lived at ground level. But Aelia loved it up here, with the beauty of Callodosis around her, and she wouldn’t have given it up for anything.
When she could ignore her scratchy eyes no longer, she turned and pushed open the front door, kicking her boots off in the hall and heading straight to the kitchen. She left the rabbits on the kitchen worktop and staggered up the stairs to collapse on her bed, only bothering to take off her soggy outer layers before she snuggled deep into the soft covers, asleep before her head hit the pillow.
Aelia wokewith a jolt at the sound of something smashing downstairs. She leapt out of bed, grabbing a jacket and throwing it on as she stumbled down the narrow staircase.
“Otis?” she called as she stepped out into the main room. The sofa that filled most of it was threadbare but made comfortable with an inordinate number of blankets. A pile of dried wood next to the metal log burner, ready for the colder evenings. She made a mental note to check the flue before they used it next; birds had a habit of nesting in it in the spring, and a fire was the worst thing that could happen in a village like theirs.
“In the kitchen,” came an exasperated voice from down the arched corridor. She crossed the hall and stepped through the open door into the kitchen to find Otis crouched on the floor, picking up pieces of ceramic from around a rather sorry-looking vegetable tart.
“Oh no,” she cried, dropping to the floor to help him.
“I dropped it trying to get it out of the tray. The plate slipped and…” He gestured to the mess in front of them.
“Why didn’t you wait for me?” Aelia reprimanded. He’d been her guardian, her only family, for as long as she could remember, and he was just as stubborn now as he had ever been. Aelia fetched a spare plate and scooped up the tart. They might not be able to take it to the feast later, but there was no way she was letting it go to waste. Besides, Otis kept the house clean enough that she’d happily eat it right off the floor if she had to.
“I didn’t know what time you’d got back in. I wanted to let you have as much sleep as possible before we had to leave,” Otis grumbled, grabbing the work surface to pull himself to his feet with a grunt. He looked good for his years, despite the soft lines forking from his eyes and the grey encroaching into the dark hair at his temples, but Aelia hated seeing the occasional sign that time was taking its toll on his body. He walked off the stiffness crouching had caused as he went to the cupboard to fetch abroom. Aelia cut each of them a huge slice of the tart, her mouth watering at the smell of fresh pastry and grilled cheese. It was nothing special, not compared to what the wealthier artemians would be bringing, but Otis had wrapped the thinly sliced vegetables around each other in a spiralling pattern, giving the effect of petals. The tart looked so much like a blooming rose, it was almost too good to eat—almost.
“What time is it?” she asked, cutting off a piece with the edge of her fork and chucking it into her mouth. Otis had always been a better cook than she was, and the pastry melted in her mouth. She dreaded to think how much he’d spent on the ingredients he’d needed to make it taste this good, but they could hardly turn up with something bland.
“Midday,” he said, sweeping up the last few fragments. He paused, leaning on the broom with his good arm as he looked at her. “Do you think you’re going out a bit much, Aelia? We have enough stored to get us through the winter now.”
“Not you too.” She pushed the plate away, her appetite suddenly disappearing.
His eyebrows shot up. “Fenrir thinks you’re overdoing it, too?”
It was easy for him to guess who else might be worried about her. The only other people who knew about her little hunting trips were Fenrir and Mirra’s family, and they only knew because she’d been filling their stores since she was sixteen.
“I’m not doing any more than I was last year,” she protested.
“And people were suspicious last year,” Otis pointed out. “We went through the winter without losing a single pound. How many humans could claim the same? We have to be careful, if you’re caught, there’ll be no more hunting at all, and then how will we survive?”
“It’s fucking ridiculous,” she said, her temper getting the better of her. “There’s absolutely no reason why the humans shouldn’t be allowed to hunt.”
“It’s the law, Aelia. Only hunting parties are given licences to hunt to protect the ecosystems of the forest. Overhunting is a real worry?—”
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Aelia cut him off, waving her fork at him. “It’s just another way to beat the humans down, to put them at a disadvantage. No artemian would let a human into a hunting party, and it’s illegal to form one on their own, so they’re left to buy whatever scraps they can afford with their shitty little jobs.”
Otis remained silent, just looking at her pensively. Her anger waned beneath his disapproval, even at her age.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
He rested the broom against the wooden walls and came over to her, wrapping her in a one-armed hug. She squeezed him back, breathing in the woodsy scent of him.
“It’s not fair, but it’s the world we live in and, if you want to keep beating the system, you need to play it safe,” he said, pulling away. “So what if we get a little ribby by the spring? My vanity can take it if yours can.” He nudged her shoulder, and she relinquished a reluctant smile.
“Your vanity could do with taking a little less, if we’re being honest,” she pointed at the heavily darned shirt he’d slung on. “There are more patches in that thing than there is original fabric.”
He opened his arm wide, peering down at the item in question in faux surprise.
