Elevation of the Marked (The Marked Series Book 2) (29 page)

She eyed him up and down for a moment, and then she laughed—a sound that seemed to resonate within his own body. “Is that so?”

And then, with a motion of utter grace, her hand came up and tucked her silky hair behind her ear, revealing the side of her neck.

Charlem’s breath caught. She bore the same tattoo as he, five circles halved by a single line. But he did not know her, which could mean only one thing: she was Co’santa. The two halves rarely mingled.
 

Her own eyes narrowed in scrutiny, examining his exposed neck. His tattoo often went unnoticed, especially in poor lighting, due to the darkness of his skin. By the expression on her face, however, she had managed to discern it, knew him to be Chi’ona.
 

A frown tugged at her lips. “Are you mocking me?” she asked coolly.

“No,” he said, taking a half-step in retreat. “I wasn’t aware of your,” he pointed to her mark, “condition when I came over.”

“My
condition
?” she repeated, her eyes narrowing further.

“Well, yes. I obviously would not deliberately
offer a Co’santa a drink.”

“Let me offer you one,” she said with a smirk, and then her wrist flicked forward and the contents of her glass met with Charlem’s face.

He sputtered, the alcohol stinging his eyes. Laughter erupted around him. His eyes twinkled as he licked her beverage from his lips. “Delicious. I thank you.” He bowed to her with mock solemnity and returned to his table.
 

Denrick had turned a deep shade of red, beset with silent gales of laughter so intense that tears glittered in his eyes. “Still in love, mate?”

Charlem mopped his face with his sleeve. “Oh, most definitely.”
 

Charlem massaged his temples and cursed himself for drinking the night before a test…again.
 

He could hear the clatter of wasters from within the testing chamber. The sound did nothing to soothe his aching head. He sighed gratefully when the bout ended and quiet ensued.
 

Two acquaintances to his right spoke in subdued tones about leaving Nerra should this test not prove fruitful. Charlem rolled his eyes—they all said that. Though, some of them meant it. He never spoke that way. He would live and die right there, waiting for his
bevolder
to come along, should it be necessary. For only Chi’santae could enter the Confluence. He had every intention of placing hand upon that tree, of receiving what gifts the Spirits had to offer him.

Denrick tramped into the waiting chamber shortly thereafter, his chest heaving and face gleaming with sweat.
 

Charlem met his friend’s eye. “Any luck?”
 

Denrick shook his head, then walked to the waste bin and proceeded to vomit magnificently. He wiped his mouth and croaked, “You’re up next.” Charlem stood and trudged to the door, weariness weighing on him. “I think you’ll like this one.”
 

“Why is that?”

“You might even
love
this one,” Denrick teased.

Charlem’s stomach flipped over.
Her.

Of course it would be her, he realized. He hadn’t met her before, so she must be one of the latest risen to full Co’santa. He strode through the door, his spirit buoyed.

The arena looked as it had the countless other times he had tested some new Co’santa—the ground rocky and uneven, dotted with trees. The morning sun painted the scene an eerie gold.
 

“Next test, Charlem Bowtar and Min Jae-In,” the administrator said in a bored voice.
 

Jae-In
. The name sang in Charlem’s mind.

She stood in the center, her face ruddy with exertion. A bruise blossomed on her right cheek and her hands trembled slightly. Charlem sympathized. He remembered well how exhausting it had been when he’d risen to full Chi’ona and had to test himself with every full,
bevolder
-less Co’santa.
 

He swallowed down his rising sense of anticipation and studied her. Her spectacular abundance of hair was tied in a tail at the base of her neck, as she had not yet earned the right to braid it. She wore the robes typical of her kind.

She saw him approach and her brows shot to her hairline, the hint of a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. “You,” she said.

“Me,” he agreed.
 

As he stepped up onto the plateau with her, he felt again that strange tug, the buzzing of his flesh.
 

The horn blared, announcing that their test had begun. He unsheathed his waster and they positioned themselves back to back. He surveyed the trees around them, waiting for the approaching enemy.
 

“I would apologize about the drink,” she said, not taking her gaze from the tree line, “but I have honestly always wanted to do that.”

Charlem laughed. “If there is anything else you’ve always wanted to do, please do inform me. I’d love to help.” He peered over his shoulder at her and wiggled his brows.
 

She stifled a smile. “Focus on the enemy, fool.”

Charlem grinned, but dutifully turned back, readying himself.

The shadows of the approaching combatants lengthen across the grass. He bent his knees.

“Five,” he said.

“Four here,” she answered.
 

“Should be a slice of peidra,” he said, raising his sword arm.

“Why do I believe you?” she asked softly.
 

They approached as a unit, as Charlem knew they would—a ring of enemy tightening in on them like a noose about a thief’s neck. He could feel Jae-In behind him as if she were a fire and he were sensing the heat of her.
 

They did not communicate verbally, but it was as if they were connected in mind. Together, they attacked a single opponent, knocking him out cold, then darted to the outside of the ring. Back to back, they anticipated their enemy as they came, together. Jae-In took on the opposition in volume, moving like a leaf in the wind. Some she knocked away from them, others she sent towards Charlem, who incapacitated their foe one at a time. She was the crowd control, he the hammer.

He beamed, his blood pumping exuberantly in his veins. He’d always enjoyed a good fight, but this,
this
was something else altogether—this was magic, a spiritual experience. They were like two arms on the same body, working in perfect synchronicity, towards the same unspoken goal. He was as aware of her as he was of himself.
 

When the last of their opponents fell, he was disappointed that the moment was over, not wanting to ever lose that electric sense of connectedness.
 

Jae-In panted and swatted stray hairs from her face. She gazed up into his eyes and, in that moment, they acknowledged each other for what they were—spirit-mates.

She extended her hand to him and he took hold of her forearm. The moment of contact sent sparks up his arm.

A good deal of bustling transpired around them. The elite trainees who had been dispatched received medical attention, a messenger had been sent to collect the senior Chi’santae, who would come to welcome them as full members of the elite Tree Guard.
 

But Charlem was only peripherally conscious of all of this—he could not wrest his eyes from this woman who had swept into his life like a wildfire. A part of him had known from the first glance,
that
was what he had felt when he set eyes on her—his spirit recognizing its other half.
 

He beamed down at her and she grinned back, radiantly.
 

Charlem regarded Jae-In as she smoothed nonexistent wrinkles from her white tabard. She darted quick uncertain glances at him. “And what is the purpose of this?”

“I used to climb up to the top all the time as a boy. When you get up there, you’ll understand. It’s indescribable. You can see clear across the desert.”

Jae-In frowned up at the towering pyramid uncertainly, the hot wind tugging at the hairs that had worked free from her braid. “It looks impossibly high.”

“It takes a few hours, I’ll grant you,” Charlem said. “You aren’t afraid of heights, are you?”

She shot him a glare. “No.”
 

They began to climb up the towering stair, side by side. In no time he had sweated straight through his shirt. The higher they climbed, the quieter it grew. Charlem looked over his shoulder now and again, watching Nerra shrink beneath him.
 

Jae-In wiped perspiration from her brow and grunted. “It is always so hot here?”

Charlie chuckled. “It only gets hotter, I’m afraid.”

“Unfathomable.”
 

Charlem paused and produced a water-skin from his bag. He watched her gulp down the warm water and sink onto the step. He plunked down beside her and observed the miniature city sprawled beneath them.

“Is it always cool in Chasku?” he asked.

“That depends on where you are. On the coasts it gets hot enough, but in the mountains it has been known to snow all year round.”

“I’ve never seen snow,” Charlem said, a touch wistfully.

She turned to him, her dark eyes glimmering with disbelief. “Truly? Never once?” He shook his head. “You will have to come home with me some time. There is nothing more beautiful than fresh snow.”

“I would like that.”
 

He bumped her shoulder with his own and smiled to himself. It was strange, to feel so connected to a person and yet know so little of her. They were the most intimate of strangers.
 

“Shall we continue on?”
 

She indicated that they should, and they once again began their ascent, feeling ever more disconnected from the rest of the world the higher they climbed—as if this altitude existed only for them. They spoke as they went, of their lives. Jae-In told him about her family back in Chasku, Charlem related humorous stories about his escapades on the streets of Nerra.
 

By the time they reached the apex, the sun had begun to set, the heat of the day leaking away. The sky burned orange, bathing the seemingly infinite expanse of desert in warm hues. Wind tugged at their matching tabards and sent Jae-In’s long braid streaming.
 

Charlem scanned the distance. He discerned the Confluence south of them and smiled—he and Jae-In had their second guard duty on the morrow. He looked forward to it. The peace he felt in that place was beyond description.
 

Jae-In held her arms out from her body and closed her eyes. “It feels like flying.”

For all the grandeur around him, he could not wrest his eyes from her. She was perfect, down to her minutest detail.
 

She opened her eyes once again and caught him staring. Her mouth seemed to fight a smile, and her cheeks glowed. She turned away, embarrassed.

“You know, I think this may be the best place for it.”

“Best place for what?” she asked.

He grinned. “For our first kiss.”
 

She crossed her arms and raised a single brow. “And who ever said we were having a first kiss?”

“The way I figure, it is an inevitability for three reasons. And as it is inevitable, we might as well choose a suitable location.”
 

She shook her head at him, her eyes rolling with amusement. “Clearly you mean to tell me your three reasons, so go on.”
 

He held up a single finger. “For starters, we will spend the rest of our lives together,
bevolder
. Do you honestly believe we could resist for so long?” He raised another finger. “Secondly, I am terribly charming.” He grinned and winked. “If you are not in love with me now, you certainly will be.”
 

“A peacock like you?” She snorted and bit her lip. “Not likely. And your last reason? It had better be good, thus far I am unconvinced,” she said, though her tone was joking.

“Third.” He stepped close, and stared down into her eyes with a look of utter sincerity. “We will kiss because I have loved you from the first second, because my spirit was waiting for yours all these years. When you are near,” he took her hand in his own and felt again that wonderful thrill, “I feel it right to the core of me.”