Kilenya Series Books One, Two, and Three (50 page)

The roots and branches of the tree were bright enough that finding the bud wouldn’t have been difficult, except for not knowing which offshoot it was on. The four trees’ roots grew so far and long that Jacob wondered if they’d ever find the right one.

Sometime in the night, Akeno couldn’t go any longer—his leg nearly gave out on him from all the crouching and getting up and down. He rested for a while, then took a walk to work out the kinks in his muscles. He left, returning nearly an hour later with food for the tired diggers from the Fat Lady’s cabin.

Everyone took a break—Jacob almost collapsing from exhaustion. But thinking of Aloren gave him determination. He couldn’t give up. He wouldn’t. Not when she needed him so badly.

As soon as the Fat Lady gave the command, they returned to work.

Jacob longed for his MP3 player. For anything to break the silence. There wasn’t a noise to interrupt them, and he was too exhausted to talk. He briefly considered the Lorkon. Would they show up while everyone was digging? Hopefully not.

The hours passed slowly and painfully—with no luck. The Fat Lady offered the occasional encouragement. According to her, it had never taken this long to find the bud before—every minute of digging brought them that much closer to it.

Hazel and Early flew back and forth between Jacob’s house and the trees, delivering messages from his parents, who eventually went to bed, realizing they couldn’t do anything to help. Jacob wondered how much trouble he’d be in for running off like this.

He didn’t even realize the sun was rising until Kenji pointed it out. How much longer? Surely they’d find the bud soon. How could four trees have so many roots?

The sun had fully risen when Ebony hoarsely yelled that she’d found it. Momentarily awakened by the excitement of seeing what they’d been searching for, Jacob hobbled to her side, looking down into the row she’d been digging.

The bud looked exactly like a rose bud—only bright blue, and larger than Jacob’s fist. The seams where the petals met gleamed with a brilliant silver-blue light.

“Almost too late,” the Fat Lady said when she shuffled over. “It’s about to bloom on its own.” She cut the bud from the root with a pair of scissors, then charged toward her house, the group straggling behind.

When they arrived at her cabin, she had already washed the bud and was putting it on the table. Everyone gathered around, and Aldo jumped to his feet from where he’d been sleeping in the corner.

The Fat Lady leaned forward, biting her lips, and slowly, carefully, peeled the outer, dark petals off, placing them in a bowl. With each petal she plucked, the bud glowed brighter and brighter. Finally, only two outer peels remained, and she pulled them off simultaneously.

Suddenly the bud burst open and everyone jumped back. The petals unfurled by two feet at least, and a pungent aroma filled the air—like apple juice and cedar wood. Light shot from the center of the rose in a huge beam, hitting the ceiling of the cabin, then swelling until it covered everything and everyone.

The light faded, but the petals themselves began glowing so brightly, it was almost painful to watch. The petals were delicate and nearly translucent. The flower grew until it covered the entire table—the Fat Lady moving things out of its way.

“That is
so
beautiful,” Ebony said. Everyone nodded in agreement. The blossom was the prettiest Jacob had ever seen, and definitely the bluest.

“It’ll stay like this for a month at least,” the Fat Lady said.

“How do they survive underground?” Jacob asked. “Those petals look really thin.”

“Touch them—they’re not as fragile as they appear.”

Jacob did so, his eyebrows raising at what he felt. The petals were as solid and strong as metal. “Wow. That’s amazing.”

Everyone else stepped forward, wanting to touch it. The Fat Lady grinned at their reactions.

“It’s pretty awesome, isn’t it?” she asked. “And you’d never believe how much it weighs. Jacob, go ahead and pick it up.”

Jacob reached forward, putting his hands on the underside. He braced himself, using his legs as anchors, but almost dropped it in surprise when he lifted it. It was as light as a regular-sized rose. “How . . .?”

“Don’t know. Everyone else, take your turn, then get going. I need to work.”

“Which part did you need?”

“The outer petals—they’re the ones with the most magic in them. Once the bud blooms, they fall off and wither, becoming useless.”

“If those petals are so strong, how did you pull them off?”

She grinned at Jacob, wagging her finger at him. “You actually think I’m going to tell? Everyone has their secrets.”

“What’cha going to do with the rest of the flower?” Matt asked.

“Save it for use in other potions. Now leave! All of you. I have to get started right away—the petals need to sit in an acid solution for a while.”

“How long?” Jacob asked.

“A couple of weeks—maybe three.”

Jacob sighed in frustration, too tired to voice his annoyance, and took everyone home, including Gallus, then he and Matt returned to their house. His mom sent them to bed, excusing them from school for the rest of the day.

A pounding on his door woke Jacob after he’d barely fallen asleep. Something in the back of his mind told him he needed to answer the knock, and he pulled himself from the deep sleep he’d entered. Groaning, he sat up, rubbed his eyes, and looked at his clock—12:15 p.m. Hazel was pacing on his desk.

“Finally!” she said. “You’re awake! Important day today!”

Matt slammed the door open and ran in the room.

“Basketball, Jacob! Basketball!”

Jacob bolted from his bed, horrified. Lunch would start soon, and along with it, his only chance to prove himself on the court.

He nearly bowled Matt over in his rush to get to the bathroom to wash the dirt off his face.

“You’re still playing, right?” Matt’s eyes were bloodshot—an hour or so of sleep just wasn’t enough for either of them. “You have to!”

Jacob nodded, brushing his teeth.

“I’ll be out in the truck,” Matt said.

How could Jacob have forgotten to set his alarm? Even with the stress of the night before, today was one of the most important days of his life. He finished up in the bathroom, threw on gym clothes, yelled a goodbye to his mom, and jumped in the truck.

They sped to the high school, Jacob leaning against the dashboard, trying to make the truck go faster. Matt babbled advice and encouragement on the way. The grogginess fled out of Jacob’s body as he thought of the upcoming game.

They pulled into the parking lot right as the bell rang for lunch—Matt dropped Jacob off at the door nearest the orange gym and Jacob barged down the hallway, carrying his ball under one arm. His friends were waiting for him.

“You made it!” Tani said. “Where have you been?”

“In bed.”

She frowned. “You sick?”

He shook his head and entered the gym. Kevin spotted him, and Jacob raised an eyebrow at the lanky 9th grader. Kevin nodded once. Apparently Jacob still had permission to play.

“Dude, you’ve got mud in your hair,” Tani said.

Jacob waved her hands away and ran out onto the court, bouncing his ball, shooting hoops. He missed a couple and panic hit him—what if he messed up? And what on earth was he doing? He’d only had one hour of sleep, after a strenuous night of hard physical labor! He faltered, missing another warm-up shot.

“Come on, Jacob, not chickening out now, are you?” Kevin asked, stealing the ball. Jacob swallowed—he couldn’t find his voice to answer, but raced after Kevin, determined to get his ball back without looking like an idiot.

Mr. Coolidge separated the students into two teams, giving Jacob a look—disappointment, maybe? Jacob
had
missed his class that morning. Kevin and Jacob ended up on the same team—the home team.

Jacob wiped his palms on his gym shorts, trying to control the shaking in his arms. Why was he nervous? There was no reason to be—he’d played basketball in front of groups a lot larger than this before.

Coolidge blew his whistle, and the game started. Jacob played forward—a position he didn’t normally fill. The away team made the first score. He grabbed the ball and ran across the court, tossing it off to another teammate, then got jostled around by the more experienced seniors, who leered at him as they passed. Coolidge watched him again, but this time with concern.

Jacob closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and concentrated on one thing and one thing only—playing his heart out. Forgetting where he was and who he played with. Focusing on letting his body take over. Showing Birmingham he could do this. Showing everyone he was a valuable player.

Then Jacob put it all behind him, and began playing.

Adrenaline shot through him as he rushed to follow the other players. A clarity entered his mind he’d never felt before, and everything about him tuned in to the game only. The sounds of the students watching—the cheers, the jibes—faded away. Fear drained from his system, replaced by confidence and excitement.

Jacob was home.

This, he could handle. He’d been the star of his junior high team—by light-years. He was comfortable having eyes on him while on court. All his frustrations, his lack of control over the situation with Aloren, melted away. He shot the ball through the hoop. The away team scored and Jacob rebounded, passing the ball to a senior, who made a perfect layup.

The other team had the ball again, but Kevin stole it and raced down the court, then handed it off to Jacob, who tossed it up and in. Jacob heard a few cheers, and a familiar sensation of elation hit him.

The away team made a couple baskets in a row, tying the game. Jacob got the ball again and strode forward, dribbling it casually. He’d never been a show-off, but was tempted to do something cool—like running, flipping in the air, and slam-dunking the ball. He opted not to, focusing instead on winning. He passed the ball to Kevin, who made a three-point shot.

The students went wild, and the teams began playing in a frenzy—racing back and forth, shooting and making, shooting and missing, each team putting their all into the game.

What felt like seconds later, it ended, with Jacob’s team winning by ten points. The members of the team gave each other high-fives, including Jacob in the celebration. None of them sneered at him now.

Tani bounced up to him, a wide grin on her face. “That was
so
awesome,” she said, handing Jacob a towel. “I think that’s the best I’ve seen you play!”

An arm encased Jacob’s shoulders. “You never told me you could actually
play
basketball, Jake,” Coach Birmingham said.

Tani rolled her eyes, but Jacob just smiled in response.

“You and Kev work really well together.”

At the sound of his name, Kevin turned around.

Coach continued. “I want you to try out in November. If all goes well, you’ll end up on JV with Kevin. You had some stage fright there for a while—play in the gym every day from now on. That’ll help.”

Kevin appraised Jacob, his eyebrows up, but he didn’t look too upset over what his dad had just said.

Jacob turned to get his things, a huge grin nearly splitting his features. He and Matt headed home to get more sleep. After he finished his shower, Jacob sank into his blankets, the feeling of elation returning. He’d done it! He’d actually done it! He couldn’t
wait
to play in the orange gym tomorrow. It felt so good to be part of something like this again. And not only were his basketball opportunities finally falling into place, but they’d be able to get Aloren soon!

Life couldn’t get any better.

Chapter 9. Speaking

Duana appeared in the doorway behind Eachan, startling him. “Father, Aloren spoke. Finally.” Her voice trembled with emotion. “She asked to see you.”

Eachan raised himself to his feet, weary from the long day, and passed his daughter, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She’d been especially upset over how things were handled where Aloren was concerned.

Aloren sat on a chair in the kitchen—her arms bandaged, her hair clean and pulled away from her face. She’d bathed herself? He tightened his eyes, suspicion flowing through him. Was she trying to get on his good side? Trying to put on a show?

“Jacob . . .” Aloren paused, her eyes welling with tears. “Is he . . . is he dead?”

Eachan watched her. He’d been under the impression she didn’t care or know much about Jacob. At least, that’s what she’d told Sanso when he interrogated her. The emotion on her face and in her voice now told Eachan otherwise.

He leaned against the door frame. “No, he’s not dead.”

“They didn’t kill him?”

“Nor will they.”

Aloren buried her face in her hands and sobbed, her shoulders shaking. Bile rose in the back of Eachan’s throat, making him nearly gag.
Stupid
girl—why would she
do
this to herself? He’d be required to report her changed behavior to the Lorkon, and he’d be punished if he didn’t. Surely she knew by now it was he who had gone to the Lorkon in the first place.