Good Enough

  Skye punched his face as hard as he could.

  “You soot-brained idiot!” he screamed as he slapped himself. “You useless sack of coal! You disgust me!”

  His body was numb, a lifeless husk from the contamination. Shaking, he staggered to the cabin wall and rammed his forehead into it. Once. Twice. His knee and foot joined in the assault, but it wasn’t nearly enough.

  “Harder, you fool! Harder!” Redeyes sneered. “Rico is dying because of you.”

  Blood and tears smeared his face. Once again, he’d broken the master’s rules and escaped unscathed. But this time, Rico had paid the price.

  He couldn’t face the house. Couldn’t bring himself to see the master, or Rico’s battered, charred body. He wanted to know if Rico was alive, but the thought of looking at him lifeless was too painful. That lightning bolt was meant for him, not Rico. So why was he here, whole and breathing, while Rico fought for his life?

  After another headbutt, the world tilted. He collapsed, his vision blurring. When he came to, Pairi was there, pouring something bitter into his mouth.

  “Gracious, merciful Lord! What in this Dunya happened to you?” the bird squawked, feathers bristling. “I was told you weren’t hurt! Let me guess, you went back and picked another fight with that nubilous thug. Nasty piece of work he is. The master won’t let him survive if he dares show his ugly face again, I promise you that.”

  “How’s Rico?” Skye croaked, ignoring the tirade. He tried to push himself up, but his arms buckled under the strain. The numbness had turned to stabbing pinpricks, radiating through skin, muscle, and bone. His fists were half-closed, fingers unresponsive, and his poor silver iris was drenched in blood.

  Pairi sprayed a talonful of golden glitter over Skye’s trembling hands. “He’ll be fine,” the bird said. “Or not. We’ll know when the master’s done with him.”

  Skye leaned forward, desperation cracking his voice. “Pairi, please,” he pled. “Check on him. I need to know how he’s doing.”

  “Go see for yourself,” Pairi said, dabbing glitter on Skye’s forehead wound.

  “And see the consequences of your actions? Hah! I don’t think so. It’s much easier to cower here,” Redeyes sneered.

  Skye’s eyes darted to the treehouse and back. The memory of the master’s grim look of concentration, and his refusal to look at Skye inflamed his shame.

  “Please,” he repeated. “I can’t go…”

  Pairi spared him a glance. “He’s fine. I just left his side. The master’s one of the best healers in this Dunya. Remember? He healed you when you were worse off. Have faith. You’ll get to apologize in person soon enough.”

  Skye breathed a long sigh of relief. He wiped his face, only to smear blood, snot, and tears onto his sleeve. Rico wasn’t dying. They’d see each other again.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “Don’t thank me before you taste this,” Pairi quipped, producing a vial from thin air and forcing its contents into Skye’s mouth. The taste was rancid, like rotting bat guano. With great difficulty, he swallowed, gagging.

  “This’ll help you heal,” Pairi said cheerfully. “Though what you really need is rest.”

  If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  Skye coughed, then spat, trying to clean his tongue. “I don’t need rest,” he said, forcing himself to stand.

  He was tired, but his training had vastly improved his stamina and resilience. Plus, it was only noon; he hadn’t been training long.

  “May I ask,” Pairi began, “what possessed you to fly into a storm elemental’s belly? I’m not judging! I, too, enjoy gallivanting through monster guts. Why, I met my lovely wife in the stomach of an ancient swamp toad during a tropical deluge.”

  Skye’s throat tightened. “I… wanted to fly. I thought the monsters avoided the meadow.”

  “They do,” Pairi confirmed. “Because they fear the master. But occasionally they pass overhead. That’s why Luccello threw you fast on your first day. I believe this was explained to you, no?”

  Shame burned in Skye’s cheeks. He nodded without uttering a word. He’d acted impulsively, listening to the urgings of his bell. It still tugged sharply at his mind as if someone were pulling his hair.

  “Don’t pin everything on your curse,” Redeyes hissed. “This mistake was all you.”

  Skye bit his lip, staring at the ground.

  “Come inside,” Pairi offered gently. “The master wants to see you. You need healing and food. Come, I’ll let Luccello cook.”

  “I’ll follow in a moment,” Skye said, rooted in place.

  As soon as Pairi left, Skye started pacing behind the cabin. He rehearsed apologies under his breath, each attempt sounding more inadequate than the last. Surely, the master would summon him to deliver a scolding and decide his punishment. Mistakes like this weren’t swept under the rug. The thought of being cast out chilled him, but the thing that terrified him the most was the possibility of losing his mark.

  “If he decides to strip you of his brand, there’s nothing you can do to stop him,” Redeyes said. “You saw how he handled that elexos like it was a disobedient pup. You don’t stand a chance.”

  “I’ll—I’ll apologize sincerely,” Skye said, voice trembling. “I’ll beg if I have to. He’ll listen. He has to listen.”

  “Apologies won’t save you. You broke his trust. He raised Rico since he was an egg, while you’re just some outsider. Remember when Doctor Stenser beat you when he thought you’d attacked Rierana?”

  “He can’t take it from me!” Skye shouted, stomping his feet. “It’s all I have. It’s all I am. Without it… I’m nothing.”

  “Good, because now more than ever, you deserve to be a nobody.”

  Skye dug his nails into his temple, feeling the sting as blood welled up. His chest tightened as his mind raced for ways to undo this unforgivable blunder. “What am I supposed to do?” he whispered, tears streaming freely.

  DING!

  The bell materialized beside him, swinging smugly. Horror squeezed Skye’s heart. Cold sweat ran down his spine. His deal with the master was over, his chance to apologize stolen.

  “No,” he whispered as the stress that had been eating at him evaporated in an instant. “Not yet. No!”

  Redeyes cackled. “Stop whining, fool! This is the best outcome. You can start over. Just go back inside, spin your story, and they’ll never suspect a thing.”

  Skye shook his head. He couldn’t worm his way back into the master’s graces with lies. And yet, leaving now felt like giving up. He wasn’t ready. Today had proven he was far from ready. Even with his bell, he’d been helpless against the thyelloxos. He needed more training, more time here.

  He stepped forward, but remembered that the treehouse won’t open for him now. And everyone inside was focused on Rico. Even if he could find a way in, and convinced the master to train him, there’d be no lessons today.

  He dropped to his knees, pressing his face into the cool grass. He wanted to scream but bit down the urge, fearing someone might hear. Then he remembered his bell, and howled his pain into the dirt, then rang it.

  “It’s over. I’ll have to leave.”

  “You’re not ready for this journey. You’ll die,” Redeyes warned.

  Skye sat up, wiping his tear-streaked face. “Green Eve is less than two weeks away. I have two days of training left, three at most.”

  “You can’t fly, can’t fight anything larger than a beetle, and your calm bubble can’t withstand a breeze. You need every second with the master.”

  Clenching his jaw, Skye plucked two blades of grass and placed them on his palm. Channeling through his iris, he cast them high, hovering one above the other. With his free hand, he traced a circle, attempting to create a protective sphere of air. The bubble was unstable, leaking natural breezes that jostled the leaves. They wavered, struggling to remain in place.

  It wasn’t perfect. Nowhere near what the master had demanded. But it would have to do.

  “That’s it?” Redeyes asked as Skye walked toward the forest. “We’re leaving now?”

  “Yes. I’ll return after Troqua is safe.”

  “Finally!” Redeyes crowed, catching up with Skye. “I can’t wait to see how your next encounter with an elexos plays out.”

  “I won’t give them the chance,” Skye vowed. Standing at the forest’s edge, he cast one last glance at the treehouse. His body was still contaminated, his reserves drained, and he had no supplies save for his iris. But he couldn’t risk staying any longer. The master might have already sensed him, and he had to focus on saving Rico.

  “Thank you,” he whispered, before disappearing into the trees.

  ?????Days until Green Eve: 13?????