71

Chapter 94

"You're sure that's going to work?" Coal looks doubtfully down at the tiny contraption in my hands.
"Of course it will work," I tie the last little knot of vines, pulling it snug with my teeth, and hold it up for inspection. "I've done this a million times before."
The small, thin basket is woven of vines, the size of my hands cupped together. It's spherical, with an opening at one end, and a small loop of vines on the other.
I hold out my hand and Coal puts a handful of berries into it. I don't know if they're poison or not, but with what I'm using them for, it makes no difference.
"Berries go in," I pour the berries into the opening of the trap, and stand, walking to the animal-path we found. I set the trap on the ground, then use another vine to fasten the loop with an out-jutting root. "The animal sticks it's nose in," I put my hand through the opening of the basket, and behind me Coal leans forward, intrigued. "And-" With a snap, the basket closes, with my hand stuck in the inside.
"We come up behind it, take the club, one solid smack to it's head and it won't even know what hit it." I say, grimacing slightly at the thought, but my hunger for meat takes over my sense of guilt.
"Great," He kneels down beside me, grinning for some reason, though I can't imagine what's funny. "But how will the animal get its nose stuck in that, when your hand is taking up all the space?"
I blink, and look down at my hand, which is going numb, the circulation being cut off. "Well, obviously, I'll take-" I grit my teeth, tugging at it. "My-hand-" Frustrated, I yank on it, and only succeed in taking the trap off it's vine, so it's stuck to my hand like a great ugly mitten. "OUT!" I grab the trap with my other hand and pull, and all at once it flies off, and I fall on my butt, stunned into silence.
Coal, on the other hand, falls over from laughing so hard, and I begin to smile against my will.
"So much for breakfast." I sigh, and get to my feet. "Let's get back. We'd best be moving anyways." He stands beside me, still smiling, and takes my arm in his.
"Why the long face?" He asks promptly, and I punch him for being an idiot.
"Okaaay," He holds up his hands in surrender, and the wind blows. His hair flops down over his eyes so he can't see, and I laugh at him, which makes me feel better.
"You need a haircut." I chuckle, while he blows on the stray hairs, looking ridiculous. "Here," I brush his hair back from his face. "Better?"
He nods solemnly, but can't hold a straight face for long, before he breaks in a grin, shaking his head in exasperation at himself, and his hair falls over his eyes again.
"Dude!" I laugh incredulously, and I go to brush his hair away, but he backs away, laughing, covering his face. "Where do you think you're going!"
"You can't catch me!" He cries joyously, turning and running into the bushes. What on earth has gotten into him?
"Of course I can! You're going to crash into a tree with your hair!" I laugh, stumbling after him.
"I won't let you cut it!" I hear him somewhere to my left, and crashing through the brush.
"Man, you must have a bad experience with hair-cuts!" I laugh, and start when his face peeks out of a bush a few feet in front of me.
"Yes! You should have seen my mother with me! She had to literally chain me to the chair! I was her play-doll!" He shakes his head in disgust. "Men just aren't meant to sit and have their hair styled for hours on end, I tell you!"
"Well, luckily for you, you're not a man!" I laugh, and he ducks out of the bush, a smile on his face, and I hear him run off somewhere behind the trees.
"I like my hair the way it is!" He laughs, and I'm sure his voice is coming from right behind that tree trunk, but when I peer around it- Nada.
"You can't see!" I protest, spinning in a circle, looking up at the sun-pierced canopy. His voice is coming from everywhere, and I can't pin-point it!
"On the contrary, my dear," I jump because his voice is right behind me, but when I whirl around, there's nobody. "I'm not the one spinning in circles."
I sigh, looking all around me, through the wooden, natural trunks of the unpolluted part of the Wold, striped with yellow sunlight and greenish, florescent shadows that flit across the ground with the leaves in the wind. The sun is warm on my skin, and the breeze lightly ruffles the canopy a hundred feet above, a natural ambiance to my world. The wind blows my hair around me in a miniature tornado, and I impatiently pull at it, spitting hair out of my mouth.
"Whose hair is in their face now?!" I jump, looking up above me, where I can swear I hear his voice.
"Coal!" I scream, laughing slightly at his clever trick. "How are you doing that! Stop it!"
I hear his laughter everywhere, all around me, like a vortex, and the world is spinning, and he's above and below and everywhere and I've lost the little game.
"Fine!" I yell out, not sure where to yell to, closing my eyes so the world will stop spinning. "I give up! Come out!"
"BOO!" Right in my ear. Holy scream. I shriek, spinning right into his arms, and collapsing onto his shoulder until my heart stops spasming.
"W-Why?" I moan after a few seconds, and he's still laughing, his forehead against mine. A few more seconds pass, and my curiosity gets the best of me. "How? How did you do it?!"
He shrugs, and I pull back, raising an eyebrow. "Well?"
He frowns, as if searching for an explanation. Then his eyes light up, along with that mischievous crooked smile that makes my heart fall flat on its poor little face. "A magician never reveals his secrets!"
"Oh, is that it?" I say sarcastically, leaning closer, not dropping his gaze. "You're a magician now?"
"I could be." He shrugs.
"But really, how'd you do that with your voice?"
"Ah, you know," He holds up his hands helplessly. "Ventriloquism."
"You can do that?" I say in awe. I recall my mother mentioning the voice-throwers at some point or another in my childhood. I tried for hours, sitting and looking like an idiot, trying to throw my voice- It obviously didn't work.
"Among my many talents," He grins smugly, puffing out his chest, and I kick his foot. "But yeah, ever since I was a kid, I've been able to do it." Suddenly his eyes light up with that evil glint that scares me a little.
"You should have seen me messing with the Servants, or my mother." He snorts at the memory, pressing his hand to his face in embarrassment. I listen intently, by now knowing it's on the rare occasion only that he talks about his life as a Royal. "See, I'd hide behind, like, a flowerpot or something in a corridor, like so," He ducks behind a nearby bush for example. "And when somebody'd walk by, I'd throw my voice and tell them stupid stuff that would terrify 'em, like 'The end is near' and 'Don't look behind you!' or, sometimes, when I was feeling particularly vicious, 'Death will find you. Run'." He jumps out of the bushes on the last word, making me jump at the suddenness, and grabs my hands.
We dance. Together, my hands clasped in his, whirling aimlessly beneath the trees. I grin like an idiot, not sure what to say, to do, a million thoughts spinning through my head, and I'm so confused- But, for once, I let myself relax. I let go.
My shoulders loosen, and I suddenly wonder how I've always been so tight. He holds my hand up and I spin wildly under his arm. I'm just glad I haven't managed to knock down the whole forest like dominoes with my terrible clumsiness.
"Relax," Coal's whisper in my catty ear, and my heart beats the rhythm to our stupid, crazy dance. The wind rustling and whistling through the woods is our music, a hollow, ethereal sound the hums like a million musical pipes. Over, under, my foot lands on his and I almost fall over. He catches me. His hands are warm and strong and light around my waist, both steering and holding me up. Coal dances like an expert, planting each foot with certainty, grinning that quirky, smoldering grin.
Relax.
I rest my chin on his shoulder, feeling the soft, moist soil of the forest beneath my bare feet, his muscular shoulders are neck rising and falling with each breath. We spin, slowly whirling through the leaves and pine-needles, rotating like an imperfect wheel.
But we are perfect. We fit together like we were made for each other, my head fitting perfectly into the cavity between his chin and shoulder like a puzzle-piece finally found. Apart, we are flawed. Together, we're sublime.
Together, we're Pure.