“It seems so,” Calish answered.
“I doubt that’s what we’re going to find when we get there tomorrow,” Marsh said with hesitation in his tone. “I bet your attempt at being civil only prepared them to fight you for it.”
“I considered that,” Calish admitted then turned his attention to me, holding his hands out. “I figured you could tell me.”
I shook my head. “I can’t. Even if I could, I doubt I’d be able to read you. We’re too close. Nik said it’s a protective thing for Seers. Our ability is less accurate with people we care about.”
“That’s stupid,” Marsh huffed. “What’s the point of seeing the future then?”
Calish ignored him, lowering his hands in disappointment. “What if you read someone else?”
“I guess I could try. Who would I, though?”
“The archer…” He hesitated.
“The one who killed Alux?” I scoffed, thinking he couldn’t be serious.
“He’s been very attentive to me ever since. He’s requested another post. Sending him into a dangerous situation seems appropriate.”
“Why? So someone else can kill him in battle? Does he think such a sacrifice made to the Authority makes up for murdering a child? If anyone gets the privilege of killing him, it’s me.” My saliva thickened at the thought.
Calish objected, using political speech that twisted my stomach. I shut him up to calm my nerves. If I were to read the archer, I couldn’t let my anger overpower me. Reading would be difficult enough.
“Bring him to me,” I said.
“Are you sure you can restrain yourself? I can choose another man for you to look at.”
“No. Tell him I want to pray with him before he goes.”
Marsh cleared his throat. “Um, you’re not gonna kill him, are you?”
My head spun toward my brother, and he recoiled. “You have this…strange look. Kinda like you plan on eating him whole.” He sucked air through his teeth, apologizing without apologizing.
I softened my face, only then realizing how tight it had been. “I’m not going to eat anyone. Go get him, and we’ll see what happens next.”
* * *
The young man stepped through the threshold, his hat in hand, twisting the edge of the brim. His uniform was flawless, as was his posture, but the true tell of his nerves rested in the left and right of his throat where his jugular throbbed. He waited for Calish to shut the front door before moving, though he saw me sitting at the bottom of the staircase waiting. The recruit did a decent job hiding his emotion, at least initially. His blue artery throbbed, and a single drop of sweat dragged down the side of his face from his hairline.
Water and wine.
Vengeance seldom provided satisfaction for anyone, so I kept my impulses restrained. Besides, I already bit one officer this week; I wouldn’t want to make it a habit.
The man showed wisdom by not uttering a word. Perhaps Calish instructed him to remain quiet. Lucky for the pawn, Calish held an advantage. He knew exactly what would help me and what might send me into a frenzy, and he didn’t even consider the prompting of the wolf-spirit when making the assumption. If the archer came in and began to apologize or, worse yet, defend his actions, he might not have made it out of our house alive.
The man knelt in front of me as I once had for the guard I killed in the laundry. The hair on the back of my neck stood erect, my vision focused, and my heartbeat slowed, ready to attack. Saliva pooled in my mouth around my tongue as my teeth prepared to bite into him. It was as if he were offering himself to me as retribution for his crime. I was certain that expression of sorrow proved the only reason he lived to see the sunset.
Submission.
I had a purpose to fulfill. Killing him was not it. I needed to confirm the suspicions of tomorrow, not days gone by. Once I’d gathered the information we required, I would have to decide—kill him or forgive him. Anything else would prolong my grief. I had enough sorrow to trouble my thoughts than to waste time with an archer too broken to touch his bow.
While it would be perfectly fine with me to see this man die a slow and agonizing death in his prospects of tomorrow, that is not what I witnessed when I searched him. His future stood obscured by his recent past. I saw his thoughts, feelings, and motivations as Alux dashed out my front door toward the gate. He would be so much easier to forgive if his motivation for killing the boy was a selfless one. If he was acting for justice, I could accept that, but he wasn’t. I let go of his hands before I learned the truth behind his actions. I didn’t care. We did not live at the camp. He didn’t come for a more perfect life. The rules didn’t apply in the Authority neighborhood.
I wiped a tear from my cheek, keeping my eyes closed. The pain of watching it again hurt beyond words. He shot Alux and crippled me in the same moment. As angry as I was, the grief subdued the wolf. Calish handed me his handkerchief, and I used it to cover my eyes, not that it helped.
“Thank you, my Lady,” the archer said.
I uncovered my eyes, lifting them to finally look at his. “For what?”
“Your prayer.” He bowed, still on his knees, until his forehead rested on the tops of my feet.
I glanced at Calish with a disapproving look. I hated using prayer as a ruse to summon someone. That should be a strategy for heretics like Noran, not us.
He straightened up, his hands folded in his lap. “Who were you praying to?”
“Don’t you know the gods and their dominion?”
“Lord Calish said you asked to pray for safe passage, but Undonon only controls the boundaries, not the traveler. Your faith in your god must be stronger than I have in mine.”
“Why care about any of them?”
“I’ve been asking for forgiveness from half of the gods since I killed that boy—” he struggled to continue “—I haven’t found peace since I released my arrow. I figured if you wanted to pray for my safety, then your god must have gifted you with the forgiveness I long for. I want to feel their blessing, too.”
“Forgiveness isn’t a feeling,” I said, my chin trembling. “It’s a choice. I choose to forgive you.”
“So, you’re not angry with me?”
I stood, looking down at him on the floor. “No, I’m furious with you. Just being in this room with you makes me thirst for blood. I don’t have to like you to forgive you.”
His face turned white. “I don’t understand.”
Calish reached down for the man, lifting him up by the elbow. “Time to go.”
Once on his feet, he pulled against Calish’s grip. “No, wait, please,” he pleaded. “I want to know which god delivered this message.”
“She’s not a Priestess,” Calish reminded him as he dragged him toward the front door.
“Please! Help me understand—”
Calish pushed the recruit outside and closed the door behind them. I hugged myself tightly, releasing the sorrow behind my eyes. Marsh appeared and held me.
He may have been eager to please his superiors, but when the recruit watched Alux die, he recognized their similarity. He realized how easily he could have gone hungry. What harm would he invite if he were starving? The difference between him and the boy came down to two fortunes: food and shelter. If the barracks where he slept didn’t provide a meal of broth and bread twice daily, theft would be his only means of survival.
Yet as an underclassman of the Authority, he hungered too. What if he was sent into battle? What if he were injured and couldn’t work? He’d be no better off than Alux. Maybe worse.
The Archer intended to elevate himself to a position above a bow or arrow to ensure the shelter stayed over his head and the stale bread and watered broth filled his belly. For that, he murdered a starving child.
For so many reasons, I hate Reinick and his world.
When Calish returned, Marsh let me go.
“He is torn up about that kid. Now he’s asked to work on the Temple as retribution.” Calish rolled his eyes. “What did you ge
t?”
“Nothing useful.”
He pushed his curl back and sighed. “Then I’ll prepare my men for a fight. I better go get started.”
Chapter 15
Knowing I’d witnessed enough death, Calish kept the details of the acquisition to himself, and I didn’t ask. I spent a couple of days in bed, and the others waited until I felt better before continuing with the plan. More thistle starts had been made, and the land was completely secured. They were ready. I was, too. There wasn’t any reason for us to wait longer.
I never considered the amount of stuff we’d collected and how difficult it would be to transport it. According to Calish, the roads had been partially cleared of the trees, but we weren’t sure if they were clear enough for the horse and cart to pass through. A wagon would be slow enough on its own, but traveling through narrow passages would increase the chances of being attacked. Best we figured, the supplies would take at least one well-packed wagon, if not two. Until we started loading things up, we wouldn’t be able to tell for sure.
“Is there something wrong, Una?” Calish asked.
“I think I’m just overwhelmed,” I confessed, wondering why I hadn’t thought about how we should move it all before collecting so much.
He put his arm around me. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
“Why do you sound so confident?” I rested my head on his shoulder.
“Because things always seem to work out for you.” He kissed the top of my head. “Let’s go to bed.”
“I haven’t been up long.”
“Well, I have.” He took my hand and led me upstairs.
* * *
I fell asleep quickly, but unfortunately, it gave a false promise to the evening ahead. I lost count how many times I woke up. Every time I closed my eyes, the same thing happened; I pulled the rope wrapped around my wrist to kill Kali or cradled Alux as he drew his last breath. I was haunted by their faces and reminded of their fragility. With each memory revisited, I wondered if escaping this place would ever be possible. Even if I physically left, powerful memories would drag me back.
Calish snored softly. His lips were slightly parted, and he breathed with slow consistency. A part of me wanted to nudge him awake so I’d have someone to talk to, but I knew tomorrow would be stressful enough and he’d need all the rest he could get to deal with it. I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling, not that it would be helpful. The weight of my belly made lying supine uncomfortable. Eventually, I gave up and decided to get out of bed.
I put on a robe and went to the bathroom down the hall. If it was closer to sunrise, I would have used the master bath. I didn’t want to take the chance of stirring Calish, despite my subconscious intentions to wake him. I used the toilet and ran hot water in the sink to wash the sweat from my face. When I brought the washcloth under my chin, I studied myself in the mirror. Maybe I should take this opportunity to see if Nik was being honest with me about what Seers experienced from the inside of the glass.
At least it would be something to do.
Sneaking back into our bedroom with a pen and paper misplaced from the study downstairs, I sat at the bathroom vanity and reached for Anu. She looked just as sleep-deprived as I expected myself to look.
How strange. She needs sleep too?
The glass felt cool against my fingertips. I blinked, and when my eyes opened, I stood in the world of reflection. Happy for having a robe, I closed it tighter around my shoulders in an effort to keep a little warmer. Making sure the pen and paper were tucked securely in my pocket, I proceeded to search for Nik’s mirror. Anu intrinsically knew why I’d come. She took my hand, and without words, instructed me to close my eyes. I did as she wished, but all I did was blink. She touched my shoulder the moment I closed them to have me open them again. We stood in the reflection of Nik’s room, although I couldn’t see it. I felt it. The area was dark, except for a full-length mirror hanging by itself in the center of my path. Not seeing anything through it, I tried to touch the glass. Like a rectangle void of life, it revealed nothing, no images beyond it. Nothing existed, not surface, not air, just the frame, and a strange force keeping me on this side of it.
Well, that answers that. I can’t see a thing, just like he said.
I was searching the dark to figure out where to go next when I felt Nik’s sleepy hand on my shoulder. Standing in his room, he had come to my side of the glass. Inch by inch, the room developed around us as if someone turned up a lantern. The four of us congregated in the silence: Nik, his reflection, Anu, and me.
“What’s the matter?” he mouthed, uttering no sounds.
I shouldn’t have bothered him.
I shook my head quickly, and the tension left his body immediately. With the paper and pen from my pocket, I scribbled my note. “I couldn’t sleep.” I held it up for him to read.
“Why?”
I wrote, “Nightmares.”
Nik took the paper from me and wrote, “Where are you, now?”
“The washroom,” I replied, holding up the notepad. He smiled and sat on his bed. He invited me to sit next to him, and I did. I tapped the pen to the paper a few times before I made my confession. “A little boy died because of me.”
Confused, Nik took the paper from me, setting it down behind him. He scooted closer and gave me a tender hug. I cried a silent release. There were no sounds here, no anguish to be heard in my unbridled emotion, no words of comfort from him. Nevertheless, it still felt good to be there with someone. While I dried my eyes on the sleeves of my robe, Nik retrieved the paper and pen.
“Would you like to show me what happened?”
He handed me the notepad, and I responded. “I don’t want to watch it again.”
“You don’t have to, she can take me.” He pointed to Anu. He saw my pause and added, “We’ll only be gone a moment. Time isn’t the same here as it is out there, remember?”
As hard as it was, I agreed. Nik stood. “You wait here,” he mouthed while following Anu to the common place of his tent. The curtain hadn’t fallen to the ground before he returned through it.
Forever the gentlemen, he brought a stool and sat across from me. Handing him the paper when he asked for it, he wrote, “I’m so sorry.”
I looked away, ashamed for my role in it all.
He tapped my knee to get my attention. He’d written “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes, it is,” I said in silence.
He shook his head and sighed.
“You need to rest, but you can’t here. Talking like this is too difficult.” He showed me his writings before writing more. “I’ll leave camp at first light.”
He told me to come for him if I needed him. Did I need him? Did I come here to test the workings of the mirror, or did I come here to see Nik? What were my motives for being here? If I were going to run to someone for comfort, it should be my husband, but I didn’t give him the chance. Calish was the one I was committed to.
Aren’t I allowed friends?
Nik already ended his pursuit of me, and I was certainly not pursuing him. Was I? No. Despite my best defense, my actions could be easily misinterpreted. Doing stupid things made for larger repercussions.
Like clearing the minds of the Council for sleeping with the Seer.
Driving a wedge between Calish and Nik would be catastrophic. Actions have consequences. Adults cannot behave like foolish children. I needed to be wiser about my behavior. No longer an innocent little girl, I had to grow up and take responsibility for my part in delicate situations. Besides, my parents didn’t raise me to be dependent on men I loved.
My heart stopped. That was it.
I love them both.
Calish had said it once, but I didn’t believe him. Recognizing my faults, I told Nik not to leave the camp. He stood as I did and protested my refusal to see him. Of course, I confused him by summoning him. And he should be, I gave him all sorts of contradicting information. If we weren’t in that damn vacuum of existence, I might h
ave tried to explain. Thankfully, I couldn’t. Exactly what would I say?
I took the paper and pen and wrote, “C doesn’t know I’m here. I shouldn’t have come.” I showed him, but it didn’t matter.
In an attempt to stop me, he grabbed my arm gently. His touch made me feel guiltier than I already did.
This is all wrong.
I shouldn’t be here.
I knew the way Nik felt about me, and yet I came anyway. At night. In my robe. I clutched it tighter across my chest. The last thing I wanted to do was lead him on.
Why am I so selfish?
I broke away from him and mouthed, “I’m sorry. I’ll be fine.” I forced a smile, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think he believed it. Then, I ran.
When I opened my eyes, I was looking at myself touching the mirror, my hand pressed white against the glass. True reality gave it confirmation with heat and sound, something the other side didn’t have. I snatched my hand from the pane and hid it in the sleeve of the robe.
I will never use my gift like that again.
A wife doesn’t betray her husband, their goals, their relationship, or their love for one another. Protecting our marriage would be my priority in everything I did. Because of that night, I would remember. Sleep would help if it came, and if it did not, I would lie and wait. I thanked Anu sheepishly before hiding myself from her view.
* * *
I opened and closed the cabinets and rummaged through the drawers in the dark. On the counter sat a bowl and a growing pile of ingredients, except for a whisk.
Come on. It’s got to be here somewhere.
What good was it to have dark and light sweet powder, a jar of butter, and an egg if I couldn’t mix it together? Mother would suggest I bake it into a crispy cookie. However, I had no intention to wait that long. I would be just as satisfied, if not a little bit more, gulping it down raw. I yanked open the drawer with the forks and spoons, giving up on the ease of a better mixer. With a little muscle, a spoon would do the job well enough.
Scavenger Girl: Season of Toridia Page 17
