The Given Garden Page 20

  Maryah had been horrified when we’d first come in, streaked with dirt and water, and had gotten us clothes to wear when we were gardening- plain tops like the men wore with wide straps over the shoulders, and white shorts. We always had to wear white to represent our purity (if I’d shown up to dinner in a red dress, I would have been banished!) and although those clothes got as stained as the others, they weren’t made of expensive silk but cotton from old stock, so Maryah didn’t care so long as we washed and changed for class.

  I loved those clothes! In some ways, they were the best part of my gardening obligation, because they were so freeing! I loved the way the sun felt on my skin, and though Maryah had given us little straw hats as well to protect our skin from ageing prematurely, Martya and I often abandoned those the moment we were away from the castle so that we could enjoy the breeze on our sweaty necks.

  Martya and I worked in that garden three times a week (as fun as it was, we still both needed a certain amount of reading time a week) and Kohén came down at least once. He was interested in what we were doing in the beginning but after awhile, he started thinking that we were wasting our time- and proved just how powerless we were by touching his finger to a locust and making us see how it exploded into dust where her spray had failed to discourage them.

  ‘Breeding Nephilim so there’s enough of us to take care of this is the only solution,’ he said, winking at Martya as he studied the cover of the old book in his hands ‘You should use that brain of yours to study tracking so that we can find all of them.’

  ‘More boys like you?’ I teased, grinning at him over my shoulder as I knelt and reached for a weed, yanking it from the earth. ‘No thanks!’

  ‘There are no more Nephilim,’ Martya scoffed. ‘If you ask me, it’s a waste of palace resources to have an entire unit of the Corps committed to finding what we’ve already mined to death.’

  Kohén raised an eyebrow. ‘You think we’ve found them all?’

  ‘There were only eleven archangels,’ Martya pointed out. ‘And according to history, sixty-six people with the blood of the Nephilim have been located and then closely guarded to make sure that none were breeding without the palace policing them. And with every generation, those powers are fading. I don’t know how good your math is, but judging the way population has been controlled since the first king’s rule, odds are that you’ve got most of them already- and time has demonstrated that breeding them will not help the race from becoming extinct.’

  Kohén lifted his chin. ‘I am more powerful than my father,’ he argued. ‘And I am seventh generation.’

  Martya smiled. ‘Now perhaps, but how powerful was he at fourteen, compared to you? For I heard that when the solar generators were first installed, your great-grandfather could power this palace for hours at night by simply touching the wires!’

  Kohén frowned. ‘I can do that. I think…’ he pouted. ‘I’m just not allowed to.’

  ‘Because you’d weaken faster than he did?’ Martya guessed, smirking.

  I was absolutely fascinated by the conversation, because Kohén had never broached this topic with me, I looked to Martya in curiosity. ‘The Nephilim are weakening with every generation?’

  Martya exchanged a look with Kohén, who sighed but nodded as though permitting her to continue, lifting the book in his hands to his nose and inhaling gently. ‘It’s not common knowledge, because the government doesn’t want it getting out that the country with the most Nephilim- and power- is losing its special edge, and for all intents and purposes, it’s not exactly a bad thing either or a big shock.’ Martya said, making a small face when Kohén glowered at her. ‘Oh come on…’ she needled him. ‘Does the word crucifixion mean anything to you? ‘Cos it certainly did to one too-powerful Nephilim kid once!’ Kohén through a handful of grass at her and she turned back to me, smiling. ‘But yeah, my father worked with blood and was responsible for testing the Nephilim and he told me- in the strictest confidence of course- that there was a decline in gold blood cells with every newborn Nephilim. By his calculations, in one hundred years, the race will be extinct.’

  ‘Why isn’t Kohén obligated to marry and breed with one then?’ I asked, and he sighed, shaking his head. ‘If his family has the most powerful genetics-’

  ‘God basically forbid that, back in the beginning of the beginning, remember?’ Kohén pointed out. ‘When the genetics first started to fade, suddenly some were more powerful than others and the ones who were more human than divine started to resent the others. Father and the shepherds agree that that would happen again now too if we went out of our way to breed them like mad, but because we have so few, they’re considered rare and essential.’

  ‘And they’re not resented, because they’re all tightly-controlled, and obligated to put the kingdom’s needs ahead of their own,’ Martya pointed out. ‘Like Kohén here, whose basically bound to that crown but compensated for it with luxury. But if we had hundreds of them all getting around, whipping up rainstorms and burning stuff when they lost their tempers...’

  I glanced at Kohén. ‘But you think that there should be more of you?’

  Kohén stared down at his shoes, mulling that over. ‘I don’t know… I see the logic in keeping our numbers low if we can’t find a way to make everyone like us, and if God advised us so well… can’t really argue with someone who’s not around, eh?’ he smiled wryly, and then it turned into a little pout that was a bit too cute for my liking. ‘But I hate the fact that I’m forced to wait until I’m thirty and am considerably weaker until I have children of my own, so that I don’t accidentally spawn a little Jesus, and I don’t see the harm in at least testing out a few intentional breedings with Nephilim to see what happens, if it could lead to a few more Nephilim like me who can dust out locust plagues and save people from starving. But regardless of what I think- God has a royal flush on this one, so we take care of ourselves and count on people like Martya here, to do what we cannot.’ He hugged himself and frowned over at the gardens. ‘It makes me feel powerless, is all.’

  ‘I think it is God’s plan for everyone to feel powerless eventually- he chose Miguel to rule in his stead because of the power of his character, not the power of his wings, and that seems right to me,’ Martya said, going back to her notebook and making a note of something. ‘Which is why I’m trying to find a way to control the locust problem, because there’s a very good chance that soon enough, humanity will have to survive without any angelic assistance at all.’

  I chewed on that for a moment, trying to think of what life would be like if we were forced to do everything the old-fashioned way. It wasn’t like we used Nephilim all the time- but they did have their uses. Some could heal what our doctors could not, some could generate power or control water and rain or wind, and some had quirky little gifts that were more entertaining than they were helpful. No, we weren’t dependent on them, but a world without magic would be scary, like in the time before when God had kept the Angels and Nephilim locked away in Heaven.

  ‘You’re only counting the archangels in your calculations though,’ Kohén piped up suddenly. ‘What about the fallen? We know they produced Nephilim too, and that they hide from us. If we could breed some of them together, and raise them to be kind and helpful and equally controlled-’

  But Martya rolled her eyes. ‘That’s holly-polly,’ she scoffed, waving her hand at the wilted tomato vine before her. ‘The dark Nephilim walked the earth in numbers too few to have survived this long. Waiting to find one of them is akin to holding your breath while swimming the length of the Pacific ocean. I mean, the shepherds teach us that only the people with good in their hearts were saved, so how many of HER offspring do you think could have made it through the apocalypse?’

  ‘One was found once,’ Kohén argued. ‘And only what… fifty years ago?’

  ‘And put to death for setting fire to an entire village, because none of our light Nephilim are powerful enough to sense them before they commit crimes anymore!’
Martya said loftily. ‘There goes those genetics, and thank God!’ She shook her head and clucked her tongue. ‘Kohén honestly, how could someone as bright as you even conceive of being able to control an entire strain of too-powerful dark Nephilim? I mean, if we had winged angels like the Soul-Mates, maybe we’d be able to find people with the appropriate genetics, but without them, it’s like looking for snapped needles in haystacks.’

  I shivered as though a cloud had passed over us. The only time it was ever okay for one mortal to kill another, was if that mortal was one of Satan’s offspring, one who was wicked to the very core. Because they were the only monsters we knew, and because there were no winged angels left amongst us to sense their decaying hearts before they lashed out and revealed their inner wickedness with glowing red eyes, we feared them more than what was rational.

  It was rumoured that the dark Nephilim were twice as powerful as the light, and that they represented sin in its purest form; they were greedy, lustful, jealous, thieving and full of ill will towards others. Being born as a dark Nephilim didn’t guarantee that they would grow up evil, of course, only circumstances and influence could turn the dark half of a heart against God completely, so those who had been too young to be corrupted could have easily survived the apocalypse.

  Some people believed that the ones who had survived Armageddon because they’d not yet sinned had fled to another continent to avoid Miguel, which was why we encountered them so rarely, and others believed that they were the ones who had first taken charge of the seas, and that the pirates and vagrants who plagued the coasts were Nephilim too, or ancestors of them. I didn’t know what I believed for I’d never pondered the matter much (it was forbidden too invest too much time feeling scared, negative or sad for it hurt God) but Martya was swaying my opinion her way. How many of Satan’s people could turn dark in a world without hatred? And if the pirates possessed powers, why hadn’t they successfully invaded anywhere yet? They’d attempted to numerous times and not once had it been reported that they’d used preternatural forces to do so.

  ‘I’m bright enough to know they’re still out there…and if you can find golden blood cells in my blood, then testing people at random would reveal black ones in theirs,’ Kohén said, getting up and obviously tiring of the debate. ‘And if we can find them by testing the blood of the masses, and if their hearts can be won for God and then put to good use, then we should be trying to do that.’

  I wrinkled my nose. Testing people’s blood for golden and black cells was a suggestion that had been put on the table before, but the Barachiel’s had always been against it- except for my Barachiel, apparently. The consensus was that someone with a slight trace of dark blood would be useless to the crown and utterly powerless, so why bring their attention- or anyone else’s- to the fact that they were dark, when that could do their heart more harm than good?

  ‘Even if God would prefer that you all just faded out, them especially?’ Martya’s tone was getting argumentative. ‘Even if they’re only able to be discovered when it’s too late, and their eyes are glowing red because they just committed some heinous crime? Face it your highness- if there were enough of them left worth anything, they would have revealed themselves by now.’

  Kohén turned to me- and his back to her, looking annoyed. ‘You’re getting red in the sun,’ he said. ‘Do you want to come in early and have a game of Chess today?’

  ‘No thank you,’ I said, smiling at him and hoping to make his frown relax a little, but it did not. ‘We only have a few weeks before fall- so I should spend as much time as I can here, while I can.’

  Kohén huffed and went inside. The next day was a Saturday and it was raining, so I couldn’t go out into the garden. I put on my white dress and noticed that Kohén had been right- my skin was darker in some areas and pinker in others, especially on my face and shoulders and when I looked in the mirror, saw that my pale hair was even paler than usual- sun-bleached and not in a bad way. In fact, the parts that had always looked that little bit ash looked shinier and more healthy- almost silver instead of gold.

  Smiling to realise that I’d been right all of those years ago when I’d fought my mother for the right to go outside (after all I’d been outside for most of spring and summer and had not burned to a crisp!), I went looking for Kohén to see if he wanted to play chess, but could not find him. I searched the east and the west wings but eventually found him in the ballroom in the south- standing in a dance hold with Lette, who was laughing.

  ‘Come on Prince Charming…’ she teased, poking the end of his nose with a beautiful red rose. ‘You’ll never impress any of your brother’s friends at the Pacifica ball, if you don’t learn to do this!’

  My mouth fell open and before I could be seen, I retreated back behind the door and peeked into the room. Lette was giving him dance lessons? Why?! He’d had them every week since he’d turned four!

  ‘I know how to dance,’ Kohén argued, looking pouty again. ‘I just don’t know any of these silly island ones. How did you learn this?’

  ‘My mother specialised in foreign dances,’ Lette said, putting the flower behind her ear. ‘If you ever need to clog dance, or sword dance-’

  ‘The hula will suffice for this year,’ Kohén grumbled, but he stood beside her and regarded their reflection in one of the mirrored walls. ‘So it’s left to right?’

  ‘Then right to left- little steps.’ Lette began to do as she said, shaking her hips in small, controlled movements that looked sensual and far more grown up then any of the dances that we had been taught! In fact, she reminded me of the woman in beads and chiffon who’d been on the common on my fifth birthday. ‘Like this.’

  Kohén tried to mimic her movements, but he looked ridiculous compared to Lette- though probably not half as awful as I would have looked. ‘You make it look so natural…’ he sighed, his eyes on her hips. ‘Just like Kohl.’

  ‘I’ve always loved this dance,’ Lette said. ‘In fact, it’s always been one of my fondest wishes, to see the Pacific Islands.’

  ‘Maybe one day, you’ll get to,’ Kohén said, still watching her hips while stepping statically from side to side.

  Lette’s smile widened. ‘Can Companions travel with their Prince?’

  ‘Erm, um… yes …’ Kohén’s face was bright red- his eyes now on his own feet. ‘If they want to…but they can’t leave Arcadian boundaries until they have been branded so… not usually before they turn twenty-one.’

  ‘Well…!’ Lette said, smiling impishly up at him. ‘I may just have to kiss you soon and get to work on getting myself one sooner, hmm?’

  I pulled back from the door and hurried away, not sure why I felt so sick, but certain that I must have eaten one of Martya’s poisoned tomatoes the day before because my stomach was practically twisting itself into knots. I made it up to my floor and let myself into our private bathroom, passing Kelia on the way, who was doing her hair in the mirror over her duchess.

  ‘Are you okay?’ she asked, and it occurred to me that that was the first time she’d spoken to me since the day that we’d learned of our responsibilities. It made me feel like a bad friend for having ignored her so in Martya’s favour but then again, she had implied that she was better than the rest of us, and I still got a bad taste in my mouth when I remembered that. So I shook my head and whispered:

  ‘No, I think I have food-poisoning,’ and then let myself into our bathroom.

  ‘Ew,’ I heard her say before I shut the door.

  But I didn’t have food poisoning- a fact that I discovered as soon as I pulled down my underwear, and saw the scarlet stain.

  I was blossoming. I should have felt proud and grown-up like the others had acted when they’d all started, but I felt even smaller than on my first day in Eden.

  17.

  Spring AA642

  In retrospect, I know that the way I handled my lot in life was mostly to blame for the initial disconnection between Kohén and I- because I did so by burying my hands in Mar
tya’s soil rather than my head in the sand- and refusing to acknowledge that anything had changed instead of just clearing the air by asking him how HE was changing.

  And he was changing. Every day he got taller, more handsome and more confident, and every day I caught him passing time with the other Given girls, sometimes alone, but often in groups. I tolerated it in silence for the longest time but eventually, curiosity overcame me. I asked him once, jokingly, if he was getting all girl-crazy on me, but he’d given me a murderous look.

  ‘You think I’m seeking them out?’ He’d been swinging off the tree branch above me by his knees but now; he pulled himself up and regarded me. ‘I’m not, Larkin- they’re just everywhere all of the time!’

  ‘Like pets who have been let out of their cage,’ I agreed, and it was true. The Given girls had always sequestered themselves off from the rest of the palace in the past to gossip, but now seeing them roaming the halls with searching expressions was a common occurrence. And now that we were painfully aware of them, we started noticing the older Companion’s getting about more often too!

  ‘Yep. At first I tried to fob them off, but though Martya sort of avoids me and that Kelia girl scampers off every time we cross paths- the other three are just always around the next corner. It drives me crazy! I mean, they seem nice enough but are you girls coached to talk to me? Because if you are, tell your tutor to forbid them from discussing hair, gowns and make-up, please!’

  I laughed. ‘What else would they have to talk about? We’ve been trained to act like princesses.’

  ‘You manage to act like the opposite of a princess.’