❝Shae Burrower, failed author and city girl, from Lavender Lane, at your service.❞
⎯⎯⎯
The story contained within these pages is not about me.
You all know of whom I write. If not by word of mouth or by the speculation of the Chileez Times, then by...
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We were falling.
I could see nothing but the rust-coloured blur of cliff walls. The green of the jungle was long gone. My hand was latched around a sturdy arm. It shook, slightly, and the ridges of a scar sat below my fingers. Wind whipped around us.
The ground was coming closer, I knew and I looked up to the edge of the hole. I could still see the lanterns, hear the faint sound of laughter.
Hope had left, nausea and dread all that was left inside my cold skin.
But now I'm getting ahead of myself.
🙞
'Village' was the wrong word.
Kita and Lennon T. James had referred to her home place as a village. By definition, 'village' means a group of houses and buildings in a rural area, smaller than a town.
This inanimate creature of wood and stone defied Death himself as it sprawled in his garden.
I had stopped in my tracks when we'd reach the top of the hill--something I hadn't realised we were climbing. From my vantage point in the trees, I could see the jungle floor sloping down, and then falling away altogether. There was a large crater in the ground, its other side too far to see clearly. The tall trees, with spacious branches that curled over their structures, were easy to observe.
Wooden houses, some small and cabin-like, others large with jutting balconies, could be seen clinging to their tree trunks. They had their unique shapes, not one identical to another. Not like the developments in Hancochk's newest districts.
Rope bridges could be seen strung between platforms. Ladders scurried up the taller trees, where smaller structures hid in the canopy.
The sun was low enough in the sky that lanterns had been lit.
I could spot movement, obvious when the person was walking with a lantern.
Kita huffed a laugh. "Are you sure she comes from the village-city by the sea? The clans all speak of how many villages lie behind the man-made river."
Lennon T. James did not verbally reply, inclining his head to the side as he acknowledged her words. He stepped a bit closer to me, leaning down to point at the beginning of the crater.
"The village climbs over the edge. Can you see it?"
I looked closer, squinting as I tried to distinguish between the anatomy of the tree and the crafted buildings of the village.
"That is a watchtower." His finger pointed a bit to the side, and I finally saw the silhouette of the building he was pointing at. "I will show you more later. We need to hurry."
I nodded and allowed him to pass me, distracted as I followed the two of them.
As soon as I'd spotted the watchtower, I could make out more wooden structures leaving the canopy and reaching over the edge of the cliff. Anticipation curled beneath my skin, bringing with it the energy I had walked out.
