Stupid. Stupid. Stupid, I thought to myself as I picked my way through. On the far side, I spotted the outline of a door and, like a brazen idiot, I made my way toward it. The knob gave way with a squeaking complaint. I closed it behind me without a sound and fumbled for a switch.
The small lamp cast a meager glow over the space—oak desk, papers strewn over the top, a blueprint partially unraveled on a moth-eaten loveseat in the corner. One bookcase sat against a wall, not quite butted up against it, leaving a dark gap that made me wary someone watched from the depths. It had to be Cyrus’ office.
I started with the papers, numbers in illegible handwriting. Names. Bank accounts. I groaned, wishing I had something to document what I’d found, but I had nothing. It didn’t take long to piece together that Cyrus had taken control of his community’s bank accounts and had bled them dry. I moved to the loveseat to examine the blueprint. The label indicated a bank in Seattle. The pages crinkled when I tried to lift one away from the other. I dared not push the issue.
A sheet of tracing paper lay to the left of the blueprint. I used only the pressure of my fingertips to unroll its length. As I did, marks, names, directions, and times lined up with the bank floor plan.
“He’s robbing a bank?”
I’d heard about bank robberies recently, but in my hyped state, the memory remained buried. My momentary lapse of attention left the roll to its own devices and it snapped in on itself and tumbled to the floor.
Hushed voices broke the silence on the other side of the door. With no escape option, no time to climb from the window, and no chance to scurry beneath the desk, I jammed myself into the crevice between the bookcase and the wall. The knob jiggled. I caught my scream before it exploded out of me.
Cyrus entered, followed by Raife. I retreated into the tiny space. My head went light with panic. I let my breath out slowly between pursed lips before I sucked it back in again the same way.
“Were you in here earlier?” Cyrus’ voice carried a sharp edge to it, as if the answer could be dangerous.
“Yes, but I swore I turned off the lamp,” Raife said. “I guess I forgot.”
“Well don’t. I can’t have everyone in here. Too much vital information. Too much to protect.”
“That’s why I needed to talk to you.” The head guard’s voice trembled with nerves. “The antibiotics, they’re in here, aren’t they?
Cyrus barely acknowledged him, only making a slight grunting noise as he flipped through some cards in his hand.
“Fern is sick. Willow isn’t sure she’ll make it to morning.” The tension expanded as the flipping sound slowed and stopped. “I need antibiotics for her.”
The flipping resumed, pausing every other card to examine what they held. “Are you afraid she will die?”
“I’m sure she will,” Raife said, betraying his concern.
Cyrus sighed. “That’s too bad, with Willow moving on, Fern was her replacement. Maybe we can train someone else to sew. It can’t be that difficult.”
“Please,” the word burst out of Raife like a gasp of air. “Please Cyrus, my child she—”
“This is the outside world talking. There are others we can secure for you. Trust I will provide for your happiness.” Cyrus spoke as if he were Raife’s religious leader. “No need to find yourself attached to this particular female. Take one of my house servants to wife, Lavender or Coral. They would make fine property for you. Fern is small and pale anyway. I doubt she will make the winter.” The flipping resumed as if he’d resolved the matter.
“But she’s mine,” Raife said.
It wasn’t the mine that the women used, meaning owned.
It wasn’t the mine that the men used, meaning a possession.
It was the mine that Ryder used, meaning we belonged together.
Cyrus set the stack on the desk. They snapped against each other like a deck of cards. “You know every time I dip into this stash to save one life, it is ending the life of another. Are you willing to sacrifice someone else’s life for your greed?”
Raife’s guilt stained his exhaling breath. “Moonlight needs her mother.”
The pills rattled in the leader’s hand. “I can’t be so benevolent next time.” The pills clattered to the ground at Raife’s feet. “This is the last of them.”
“Thank you.” Raife ducked down to retrieve the pills. “You’ve saved us again, Cyrus.”
“She’s a pitiful wretch of a woman. I still think you would do better with another. Personally, I’d rejoice if my antiquated hag of a wife would finally expire.”
I shifted to change my view. Raife stretched prostrate in the doorway, quite literally worshipping Cyrus for his generosity, backing from the room as if he were in the presence of royalty or worse—deity. Cyrus followed him out, pausing once to intentionally step on Raife’s hand. My abuser flattened flush with the ground, biting his lip, but never making a sound. Raife waited for Cyrus to exit before he peeled himself from the floor and followed.
The door shut behind them. The light remained on. I counted to three hundred before I moved. Curiosity yanked me toward the desk.
The cards.
I needed to know what held Cyrus’ attention for so long. I picked up the stack of photographs, at least twenty or more. My eyes didn’t register at first in low light, or maybe I didn’t want to see it.
A hand, then a leg, bloodied clothing, vacant eyes.
Rico.
The picture captured Rico’s murdered corpse. I flipped the card, another body, and then another and another. All kill shots, his collection of the deaths he’d caused or ordered. The truth of it descended on me. My stomach lurched. The tension in my hands failed. The photos tumbled to the ground.
I had to get out.
I had to get air.
I was trapped in that cabin with Dallas once more, death’s fingers clenched my throat. Shoes still in my hand, I bounded from the room. My foot caught on a sleeping body strewn across the floor. I stumbled and scrambled forward. Voices of alarm fractured the silence. I slammed into the back door, twisted the knob and fled. The night slapped me in the face, cold wind, stinging rain, as though Cyrus employed them to keep me inside.
“She went that way!”
The voice followed me like a bloodhound as I tore through the dark night. Others joined in. A chorus of anger and violence lit up the night. My bare feet slowed my progress. The sharp sticks cut my skin. Mud refused traction. My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I cast glances over my shoulder. My pursuers closed the distance. If I fell again they’d catch me.
My body whirled back, something immovable locked around my wrist. A palm slapped over my mouth to stifle the scream that screeched from my chest. Momentum shoved me inside a cabin. The light snuffed out. The glow from a flashlight highlighted his rounded cheeks and wide set eyes. The man Ryder called Gabe. For a moment we stared at each other. Him, watching me, and sizing me up. Me, holding my wrist where pain screamed from my collision with his floor.
“You’re Ryder’s girl.”
There was no hint of the Eden Haven’s livestock mentality when he said it. Rather, more like the way my grandfather called me “his girl” with pride and love. So I nodded.
“He’s at the south gate tonight with Liam. He won’t hear any of this until morning.”
I wasn’t sure why he said it. Was it a warning? Was it a threat?
“Why were you out there? Why are they chasing you?”
I’d struggled with honesty most of my life. Lies held power. I could manipulate with lies and control people until I got what I wanted, and I was good at it. But Ryder’s trust in Gabe prompted me to do the same.
“I tried to steal medicine for Fern. She’s dying.”
Gabe’s eyes widened, only heightening the exaggeration of their placement. “You were in the main house?”
“Yes.”
“You’re as crazy as he says you are.”
It wasn’t a question but still I answered, “Yes.”
“He’s not doing well. You know that, right?”
“Ryder?” I sensed the warning in Gabe’s voice. What was he trying to tell me?
“They’re breaking him. Raife and the others, they poison his mind. He wears a brave face for you, but they’re wearing him down. Liam and I, we’re worried he’s gonna snap.”
Such an odd conversation to have in such a dismal place.
“What do you want me to—”
He shook his head to cut me off. “Thought you’d want to know, that’s all.” Gabe rose to his feet and extinguished the flashlight. The door cracked open and the hunting party’s voices filtered through.
“They’ll search cabins next,” Gabe said. “If you’re missing, you’re dead. I can’t help you much more.”
My heart picked up at his warning. With wet clothing and failing muscles, what chance did I have?
“You’ll have to run.” Gabe glanced over his shoulder, then back through the slit at the door. “I’ll distract them up here. You run as hard as you can for your cabin. Pray they’re all asleep. River will rat you out in a second, and Ivy, well, she’s Cyrus’ wife so you can guess where those loyalties lie.”
I didn’t even have enough time to reel over the information. My feet burned with aggravation, my shoes slipped in my grasp, but it was life or death.
“Go.”
I burst free to sprint down the hill.
“Up here!” Gabe shouted before he ran in the opposite direction. “The woods, I see someone in the woods!”
Shafts of moonlight broke through the clouds. My vision bounced as I leapt from one foot to the next. No thought, no planning, only running as hard as I could. One foot numb, the other bleeding, I was sure of it. The cabin rushed in front of me. I pulled to a stop. Voices echoed in the distance. I had no choice but to creep in.
The door opened without a sound. I knew which floorboards to avoid. I stripped my clothes and hung them off the posts like every woman’s. They were wet. Our clothes were always wet. My warm nightshirt fell silently over my head. If Gabe was right, they’d search cabins next. I had to look like I’d been asleep for hours.
My feet traversed the rungs with silent expertise. I’d learned the pattern to sneak out, but sneaking in also proved valuable. Wet hair clung to my face. I shifted in my blankets, the first sound I’d made and that could be written off as normal sleep patterns. I smoothed my hair back into a bun and tied it tight. I hoped it would appear dark, but not wet.
I set my head to the pillow, and a small weight shifted my mattress. My raw nerves clenched the wool blanket.
A cat?
No, Moonlight.
My heart ached as I thought of her sleeping without her mother. She sank in next to me and only recoiled once at the vast temperature difference between us. The little imp fell asleep again in seconds, but I couldn’t, not when I knew what awaited me.
Three hard bangs shook the entire cabin. I hadn’t locked it after I entered. Frightened cries rang out as Raife stepped inside, a lantern swinging from his grip.
“Someone is missing. We need a head count.”
“Now?”
I recognized Ivy’s voice. For a second, I let it fall together. Cyrus’ real wife. Why did he leave her with the other women, instead of at the house? What purpose did she serve in our cabin?
“Now.” Raife barked the word at her. The lantern swung again, casting shadows that swerved and jumped as he surveyed the beds. The light blinded my eyes, but instantly dropped as Moonlight’s head came up.
“Daddy?” her tiny voice creaked.
He didn’t stay to speak to her. In the next second, he left.
Moonlight had followed in her mother’s footsteps and had saved my life. I let my eyes fall closed. I tightened my arms around her frame, grateful beyond words. She shifted, turning into me for comfort. Her silky hair slipped beneath my palm and her tension faded.
As I let myself fall under the same spell, her body shook with a deep, rasping cough.
Chapter 26
Though my body begged to stay in bed, I roused myself and set my bruised feet for Willow’s cabin at first light. To my relief, Fern sat up in her bed, weak, but alive. I ignored Willow’s knowing looks and stayed near Fern to help her eat the broth Harmony brought.
Willow held her peace for the next hour. Once Fern drifted off again, I moved toward the door.
“Raife brought antibiotics last night,” the corners of Willow’s mouth turned upward, “but you knew that didn’t you?”
As usual, I gave whatever truth I could. “I had nothing to do with that.”
“And everything to do with the rest of the ruckus, I’m sure.” She waved off my look and smiled. “He asked why you weren’t here when he arrived with the medication. I assured him I’d sent you out the door hours before. No need for both of us to be exhausted in the morning.” The wrinkles on the right side of her neck deepened as she tilted her head. “I trust you were in bed when he checked on you?”
“Of course. Where else would I have gone?”
Willow dug a bony hand into one of her pockets and produced the jar she’d prepared for me the night before.
“Twice a day,” she reminded me.
She said nothing more, but when I left to work in the garden, I felt her approval and swelled with pride.
♦ ♦ ♦
Fern improved over the next two days. Of course, that meant they removed her from Willow’s cabin and put her to work again. It shouldn’t have surprised me, and yet it did.
Moonlight’s cough deepened, but Fern waved me off. When it began to spread to the other children, she continued to hush my fears.
“It’s nothing,” she assured me, “children get sick.”
Still, I wondered how much of that was to alleviate her own guilt, knowing she’d received the valuable medication, and others might not be so lucky.
Three days after my daredevil stunt, Fern cancelled our normal activities to ready for Willow’s transitioning day. Sadness clouded her features no matter how many times she batted it away like steam from a boiling pot. Transitioning day meant no work in the garden. It also meant that despite the weather, we were all expected to wear white linen sleeveless dresses. I shivered in mine as I stood near Harmony in the center square where I’d once been beaten. The cold made me impatient and impatience hurt my cover, too close to my real identity.
A sharp pain lit up my arm. A small stone lay near my feet. Another pang stole my breath. Harmony jolted forward as a pebble hit her neck.
“What was—” her voice trailed off as she searched the growing crowd.
I had a feeling, but I lied instead.
“Two kids were tossing rocks. I’ll go check it out.”
The nearest cabin was sandwiched nearly on top of its neighbor. The angle and trajectory of the pebbles appeared to emanate from within the darkened alley. Looking once over my shoulder to make sure I was unwatched, I slipped into the crevice.
“Took you long enough,” Ryder said.
“Sorry. I had to make sure it was you,” I said. His mouth set in a hard line, eyes wide and darting with no particular point of interest. “What’s wrong?”
“I heard what you did.” Ryder reversed into the shadow of the building as if he didn’t want me to study his features. “That was reckless.”
“But it was worth it.”
“Why?” For one moment he forgot to keep his voice down. “Why would you go up there like that?”
“I’m sick of watching people get hurt. I don’t want anyone to die. Fern—”
“You decided to see if you could take her place?” he snapped. “How stupid are you?”
His voice raked over my skin like sharpened fingernails.
“Don’t talk to me like that.”
The ice in my words pushed him deeper into the shadows.
“Did you even take a second to think of what could’ve happened?” His hands came up to his short hair, but without the length to bury
his fingers, his arms collapsed to his sides. “Did you think of what would happen to me if they killed you?”
“I know I didn’t think it through, but if you’d seen her, if you’d—”
Through the shadows, I watched his face contort to a snarl. “You don’t care about me at all, do you?”
Poison.
Gabe was right.
It was all poison.
Everything he was told.
Everything he ate, breathed, drank—all of it—poison.
He was different, not the stoic soldier who put on a show. No, he was Ryder, my Ryder, but they’d poisoned him against me.
“I wasn’t trying to—”
He didn’t wait for me to finish. Ryder reversed and exited the back of the alleyway. Every day he slipped a little farther away from me, but what could I do to capture him again? Like trying to capture the rush of a river in the palm of my hand.
♦ ♦ ♦
I spotted Ryder across the crowd that gathered in the central square, but he refused to look at me. We formed a massive circle, the center hollow except for Willow on a stump in the void. Her resolute eyes fixed on a far-off point. The white linen skirt she wore billowed in the breeze. Combined with her long silver hair, I swore she was an angel.
Cyrus began the descent from the main cabin, a white linen shirt clung to his broad-shouldered frame. Gentle sunlight caught the deepening gray sheen of his hair, bouncing against his back as he took each step with confidence. Behind him, three women trailed and, as I saw the last one, I caught my breath.
Tasha Saunders, or Sky as she was called at Eden’s Haven, stood tall and robust at the back of the line. The glaring contrast between my ragged cabin mates and these healthy women helped to clear up the jealousy I’d sensed from my friends. The three women were a well-fed juxtaposition next to the rest of us.
Cyrus took the final step down. The crowd parted before he had the chance to ask. An onlooker might assume magic, or respect, but I knew the truth. Every part of Eden’s Haven revolved around fear.
Sparrows & Sacrifice Page 20
