Every Glistening Night

Chapter Eighteen

A tickling sensation brushes my face. I open my eyes and bite back a scream. Blue glows in my visual plane, fuzzy from being so close. Tiny legs skitter across my nose before two wings take flight. The butterfly flutters about the room, its wings making a soft flapping sound in the stillness.

I rub drowsiness from my eyes. I must've fallen asleep while waiting for the tribe to settle down. Every bit of shuteye helps, so I don't feel too bad about it. Though I'm lucky the butterfly woke me. Otherwise, I might've missed my appointment with the Earth Watcher.

It doesn't take long to throw my bag over my shoulders, a robe overtop. The extra warmth doesn't bother me as much as it has in the past. Coolness has laced the air the past two days, during the tribe's gathering and tonight. The pleasant nip made last night's fire and music pleasant, cozy.

In an impromptu change, Ellna told a story of the season's change, asking Hannei, Yefto, and I to fill in background music to set the ambiance. I wish I could've been in a more alert state of mind to focus more on the notes I weaved between Hannei's ciwien pipe and Yefto's voice. But the other tribe members didn't seem to notice. Some even complimented me at the night's end.

The butterfly swirls out of my cave. Before I can worry about it attracting attention, it floats up the cliffside, disappearing into the trees above. I walk down the mountain path, stopping before I reach the fractured cliff. After my last meeting with the hooded figure, her butterflies showed me a route back to my cave, bypassing the guards in the fractured cliff. I never noticed this before, but faint steps line the rock face above the matriarchs' cave. There's a bend in the mountain path, forming a tight crevice. From there, slight notches are forged into the rock.

I climb up the rocky ladder, blinking away dizziness when it churns my head. My fingers dig hard against the mountain to ground me in the waking world. The blue butterfly hovers at the top. I pull myself onto the grass, my arms like gelatin wanting to melt into the grass. Light loops in the air, then the butterfly heads into the forest. I follow its summoning.

The ground slopes, descending into increasingly thicker trees. Though dark, there's a familiarity about this forest, the one I've gathered flowers and plants from my whole life.

The one hiding my mother.

A second butterfly emerges from the trees. One becomes three, then ten, then unaccountable. Shadows are cast in a blue glimmer, showing the way through the undergrowth, toward my blackmailer.

The hooded figure materializes from the darkness, one moment empty space, the next occupied by someone clad in black. The same flap shrouds the person's face; the same pyramidic stance is taken from the figure's head to feet.

"We meet again, Celisae," a voice chimes. "I see you have made the right choice at least in part."

"I have the cloak," I say. Already, my arms are leaving the robe's sleeves, removing the bag from my back.

"Then you have made the right choice," the Earth Watcher says. "Shall I see your handiwork?"

I nod. I slip my ika silk gloves on, not because I'm afraid of being burned, but to protect my hands from that strange sensation I felt two nights ago. The ika silk parcel slides from my bag. Golden light spills around us, mingling with the butterflies to create a teeming mosaic of green, yellow, and blue.

The figure doesn't respond immediately. I wonder if she's awestruck by the power radiating off it. Or perhaps she's slightly frightened, as I was, as I still am.

"Why are there white strands?" Though high-pitched as usual, I detect an edge to the hooded figure's voice.

"That's ika silk," I say. I swallow, desperate to prevent my throat from entirely drying out. "It helps to prevent burns while... handling the cloak." I refrain from mentioning that one can 'wear' the cloak, just in case she never considered doing so before. But in my gut, I have a feeling the thought has crossed the figure's mind. In fact, it could very well be the reason behind the request for a sunlight cloak.