Paragon - Book I

Riddles in the Dark

Allayria had thought she would prefer the library to the island outside, but now she isn't so sure. Though it is warm and dry, there's something about the place that feels recently vacated, like there are low murmurings of words just below her hearing. When she enters rooms alone she sometimes thinks she sees the papers flutter on the desk, as if someone had just gone through the other door.

"I've been thinking about what you said," a voice says beside her ear and Allayria jumps, hitting the bottom of the table with her thighs.

"Are you alright?" Ben asks, sitting on the desk next to her. Concern mars his expression and he sets down the book he was holding.

"Fine," Allayria says quickly, the gooseflesh on her arms still raised and prickling. "You just snuck up on me a bit."

His mouth twitches and he says: "Not so fun, is it?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Allayria says, the memory of the last time she snuck up on him swimming to the front of her memory. He had been startled too, but angry—angry that he could have lashed out on instinct before he realized it was her.

Shifting in her chair, she steers the conversation back: "You were thinking about something I said? Some great wisdom I imparted, right?"

"In all seriousness though, it was a bit brilliant."

"You don't need to be so surprised," she shoots back with a half-smile, propping her leg on her other knee and leaning back into the chair. Ben follows these movements and his gaze is warm when he looks back up at her face.

"My point is that I was thinking back to what you said about symbols. How we need something for people to rally to—'Something symbolic of resistance.' "

Allayria blinks, remembering the conversation well and feeling flattered he had memorized her words.

"I've got something I want to run by you," he continues, and he slides a bit of paper over to her. On it, in carefully drawn ink, are geometric shapes set against a pair of antlers.

"See," Ben leans over her and starts to sketch on the paper, "First you have the triangle: fire, or Smith. Then, the spiral in it: water, or Nature. Three slashes on the left and right corner: Beast."

"And the antlers?"

"Stags are known as the protectors of the forest," Ben says, tapping on the spidery design. "They leave the herd to make their own way, but always return."

"And what's the name for this?" Allayria asks, peering down at it.

"The name for us," Ben corrects. "I was thinking 'The Cabal.' "

Allayria glances up at him, then back down at the paper.

"Well, that certainly gets the point across," she says.

He smiles.

"Keep it simple, right?" he folds the paper, placing it back into his pocket. "After we get the bow we should start recruiting. We can't do this on our own and its better this way—the Cabal should be a network, a living, growing thing that becomes whatever people need it to be. We have contacts in plenty of cities, some of whom I think would be willing to formally join, and there are others would connect us to interested parties."

He taps the closed book at her side. "We'll need a manifesto, of course..."

"How is the hunt for the bow going?" Allayria asks, knowing full well how many hours he has already put into it. He even asked her one night to light a candle so he could continue to scan the molding directory in their room.