That's not really true. I still have Flot. I have my friend, Ebb. I have other friends now too. Lock and Harness; Anchor, Jib and Stanchion; Cleave, Charm and Moss. Even Mast and Helm are my friends now. It is nice to finally have friends. To have people that care. Charm, I guess, has always cared. But it didn't always feel that way. It felt like she had given up on me.
I carry my helmet back to the Crag. I didn't fill my kill bag with deer meat, because if there isn't enough meat for everyone to carry some, the Leader of the Hunt will not fill their bag. So I am saved from having to skin my kill. It is a good thing, because I do not want to look at blood right now.
The reason why the Leader of the Hunt is the last to carry meat, is to keep the hunters from killing more animals than they need to. It is a kind of reward for the leader, so that they don't have to deal with the chore of cleaning their kill. When I finally make it back, I find Flot working on the deer meat.
I watch, just outside our room, trying not to let him know I am there. He works quickly, and his motions are violent. I can tell that he is angry. It seems like every cut, every pull, is something he wants to do to Sickle and Scythe. Tear them apart, chop them into pieces then throw them into a basket. Yes, that is what Flot wants to do.
I don't blame him. I am angry too. So I watch as he takes his frustrations out on the dead deer. At least the deer is out of its misery. We are not. But I have to help him deal with his sadness, so that he doesn't do to his heart what he has done to the deer.
"Flot, are you okay?" I ask, still standing outside our room.
He doesn't answer me.
"Flot?"
"I heard you. No, I'm not okay."
"I can see that. That must have been one really mean deer to treat it like that. Did it step on your foot or something?" I ask.
As much as Flot doesn't want to let it out, a quick sharp laugh comes from his mouth. But he finds his anger again and doesn't let go.
"Flot, what do you need?" I ask.
"I need Jet back!" he yells.
I just stand there. There's nothing I can say or do. So I just stand there and nod, letting him know I understand that he needs some space right now.
"Okay. I will leave you alone. But you can always talk to me," I say.
He puts the knife down and turns toward me. His eyes look tired, like he hasn't slept in days. We just stare at each other. Eventually, I nod my head again and leave.
I decide to go see Anchor. I close my eyes as I take the narrow tunnel that leads to his room. About halfway there, I open them. I get very dizzy, and close my eyes again. I fall down on my knees, but my armor protects me from the hard stone ground. It is all I can do not to panic.
I get back up and blindly make my way into Anchor's room. When I open my eyes, I see that he is talking with Jib and Stanchion.
"Ah, Sam, we think that we have an idea for your new short spear problem," says Anchor.
"Do you know what a bow is?" asks Stanchion.
"You mean the things you can tie straps into?" I ask.
"No, not quite. A bow has few parts: a piece that bends, and a piece of thread. I've put one together to show you how it works."
Stanchion picks up a stick with a thread tied to both ends of it. He holds the middle of the stick then pulls back the string. When he can't pull it back any further, and the stick is now very curved instead of straight, he lets it go. The string is no longer stretched, but nothing really seems to happen.
"Um, that's great Stanchion," I say, confused. "But how is that supposed to help?"
"Oh, see, when I let go of the string, it moved very fast, kind of like your sling. If you can take your short spear, or what you might call an 'arrow', and fling it with the bow, you might be able to make it work."
"Wait, an arrow? What is that?" I ask.
"Well, I spend a lot of time reading the Book of Knowledge. I remembered reading a long time ago about the word arrow. So I went back and looked up arrow, because that is what your new short spear sounded like. It mentioned the word bow, so I looked that up too. That's how I created this," says Stanchion.
I look at the bow, and then the arrow. Something about the arrow seems strange.
"Why are there feathers on the arrow?" I ask.
"Oh, that was something the Book of Knowledge mentioned. I think they help the arrows fly better. Makes sense, because feathers make birds fly better too," says Stanchion.
"Have you tried it out yet? Does it work?" I ask.
"We've tried it, but we have a problem," says Anchor. "We can't get the arrow to work with the string. It just slips off of it."
I stare at the bow, and at my arrow, trying to think of a way to make it better.
"Did you try tying something to the string that would hold the arrow?" I ask.
"Yes, and it does sort of work, but probably not well enough to be useful. The arrow goes flying wherever it wants to, instead of where you aim it," says Anchor.
I think for another moment.
"It may be a dumb question, but did you try putting the holder on the arrow instead?" I ask.
All of them have a strange look on their face.
"What, was my question really that dumb?" I ask.
"No, Sam, we just hadn't thought of that yet. And it seems pretty obvious, now that you say it," says Jib.
"Well, you are all very smart. Maybe you were thinking about it too much," I say.
"You are probably right, Sam," says Stanchion. "So how do we put the holder on the arrow then?"
"I don't know. I don't have all the answers. Or dumb questions I guess."
"It wasn't a dumb question, Sam. It was a very good question, and you asked it at the right time," says Jib.
I feel better about it, but we still haven't figured out how to make it work.
"Can I look at the holder?" I ask.
Stanchion puts another bow on the table, and this one has a small piece of wood tied to the middle of the string. It looks like he carved out a hole in the middle of it for the arrow to go into. It's attached to the string with knots. I can't see how the extra piece could be attached to the arrow to make it work.
"Maybe we are thinking too hard about this," I say. "Can anyone think of something easy we can do to either the string or arrow to make it work?"
It takes a moment for someone to finally come up with an idea. Jib starts laughing at herself.
"I've figured it out," says Jib, shaking her head.
"Okay, so what is it?" I ask.
"Cut a slit in the back of the arrow," she says.
I take out one of my knives and pick up the arrow. It takes me a moment to carefully cut a slit into the back of the arrow. After putting my knife back, I pick up the bow without the holder. I put the string in the arrow's slit and pull the string back.
It is difficult to get the arrow to stay in place. I rest the end where the top of my hand meets the bow, but it still doesn't want to stay put. After a moment of struggling, I twist it, so that my hand and the bow make a shape like the letter 'v'. I point the arrow away from everyone, down the narrow tunnel leading out, and let it go.
The arrow goes much faster than I would have thought. We can hear what sounds like the arrow crashing against the stone wall just outside of the tunnel.
"I shouldn't have done that! I hope I didn't hurt anybody," I say.
"I am sure it's okay, Sam," says Anchor.
"Can you check?" I ask.
"Sure," says Anchor.
I watch as he disappears down the tunnel. I can hear his footsteps get quieter in the distance. Eventually, he comes back into his room. The arrow is broken, but it is still in one piece. It has a very bad bend near the tip.
"Well, I would say that worked pretty well," says Jib.
"Better than expected," says Stanchion. "We need to make more arrows. Sam, can you give us a while to make more arrows for you?"
"I can wait for them," I say.
"Well, I guess we've just invented the bow and arrow. Again," sa
ys Stanchion.
"I should be getting ready for the feast," I say.
"Us too," says Anchor.
With that, I head out of Anchor's room, eyes closed, feeling my way down the tunnel.
42
I head to our room. Flot isn't there, but I didn't expect him to be. I take off my armor, grab a clean set of clothes and a bar of soap. I walk to the loud waters. I don't see anyone I know there, but that is normal.
I wash away the sweat that I worked up during the hunt. I rub the soap into my hair and my face then down my body, cleaning my legs, arms, and everything else. Then I lie down in the water, flat on my back.
I keep my eyes closed, and feel the water across my skin, much like I did when I felt the breeze near the killing fields. It makes me wonder if things wouldn't be better for the Crag if I just stayed here, underwater, forever.
I know it wouldn't, because even if Chaff died, his idiot sons would just take over. Things would probably be even worse than when Chaff was alive. That, and I don't want to die.
I sit up, take a deep breath, and go back underwater. I scrub what little soap still clings to my skin until I feel normal again. Once I'm sure that I am rinsed I stand up, collect my things, and head to the Great Fire.
I try to dry myself as quickly as I can. I wipe myself dry with my shirt then ring the water out of it. It is easier for me to hang my shirt over the fire to dry than my skin. Normally I don't like my clothes smelling like smoke, but it doesn't matter to me much right now. Finally, my body is dry, and eventually so is my shirt. I put on my clothes and make my way to the feast.
I stand in line for food, and I check to make sure both Ebb and Flot have made it to dinner safely. I see Ebb first, picking at her deer and some bread that is made out of corn. It is one of my favorites, and normally it would make me happy, but nothing is normal right now.
I realize that this will be the first time since Jet died that Chaff will see me. I have seen him asleep, full of drink, and trying to have his way with Ebb. It makes my stomach sick just thinking about it. I hope he doesn't try to talk to me. But if he does, what do I say?
After I get my food, I walk over to the head table and sit down between Mast and Helm. I look up at Chaff. I am surprised, because he doesn't seem happy like I thought he would be. I would have thought he'd want to gloat about Jet's death, and how he got the better of me. But instead, he looks uncomfortable.
I look down at my food and eat. It tastes okay, but I don't enjoy it. Food doesn't really have much flavor to me right now. I have another memory in my mind of Chaff following Ebb, and I gag on my bread a little. It takes everything I have to fight it, to make myself swallow the food, because I need the food.
My eyes move upward, and I see Chaff whispering to Scythe. Scythe then turns to Mast and whispers to him. Mast turns to me, and before he even has the chance to say a word, I look up at Chaff, and speak.
"I understand."
My voice sounds dead and without emotion. Cold, and tired, and weak. Chaff stares at me for a moment then goes back to eating. He doesn't look at me the rest of the meal.
Mast whispers to me.
"How did you know what he was going to ask?"
"Because all Chaff cares about is control. He wonders if he finally went too far. He is smart enough to know that he can only push people so far before they kill. Chaff does not know me well enough to know if I will kill him, no matter how bad that would be for the Crag, or for Flot. So he is trying to find out if I will be weak now, and accept his control," I say.
"And have you?" asks Mast.
"I have made him think that. That is all that really matters," I say.
"You're not planning to kill him?" asks Mast.
"No. I won't kill him," I say.
Mast's shoulders relax.
"I am sorry, Sam, but if you tried, I would have to stop you. Even if it meant..."
"I know. You don't have to tell me. If that is the way I die, then I will be glad it is at your hands, and not his."
"I don't want to kill you Sam. I don't know if I could live with myself after that. I would do it to protect the Crag, but it would destroy me. So do not try to kill him, not just for your sake, but for mine."
Mast's words surprise me. There have been times where Mast seems to like me, but this is the closest to real emotions I have seen him show.
I finish my meal. I can actually taste what I'm eating now, instead of just forcing myself to chew my food. The bread made out of corn is good, and the deer meat is better.
"I am done, and I'm going to bed now," I say.
"Do you need someone to watch over you and Flot tonight?" asks Mast.
"Ebb is going to," I say.
"It seems like the pair of you have grown together," says Mast.
"She is a good friend."
I take my bowl to the stack of dirty bowls and add it to the pile. I walk over to Ebb and place a hand on her shoulder.
"Are you ready?" I ask.
"Yes," says Ebb.
Ebb stands up and follows me out of the feast chamber.
"So, you are going to start tonight then?" asks Ebb, once we're alone.
"Yes."
"What are you planning to do?"
"I guess the first thing I need is seeds," I say.
"What are seeds?"
"They're what make plants grow."
"How will you get them? I would think that Chaff has to hide them somewhere," says Ebb.
"I am sure he does, but I don't know where. I haven't tried following him, because it would be obvious if I did. He would only go there in the day, and I couldn't follow him out in the open. He might also know if I took some. I'm hoping that I can steal some vegetables from the kitchen and use those. I don't think Cleave keeps track of things like that."
"I hope she doesn't. If you get caught stealing food, they will kill you," says Ebb.
"Only if someone were to tell the protectors. I don't think the cooks would," I say.
"Still, you don't know if they would."
"Cleave wouldn't."
"No, Cleave wouldn't. The others... it's hard to say."
"I also can't ask Cleave to gather the seeds for me. I don't want her to know what I'm up to, and I don't want to put her in danger," I say.
"I hadn't even thought of asking her, but I agree. Better not to tell anyone else what you're planning," says Ebb.
"You know, Cleave wants Chaff gone just as much as I do. She was going to poison his food with wolfsbane."
"Really? I like Cleave even more now."
"Me too," I say, smiling. "But I stopped her. I told her that I had a plan that would get rid of Chaff, and we would still have food to eat."
"Then you already told her most of the plan," says Ebb.
"I had to. It was the only way I could keep her from poisoning Chaff. If I hadn't told her, I think she would have tried killing him again. She loved Jet," I say.
"I didn't know that she really knew him."
"Most people loved Jet. He was very honest and brave. There isn't enough of either in the Crag, and I think people liked him for it."
We reach our room.
"Ebb, can you wait until you think that everyone else in the Crag is asleep, then let me know?" I ask.
"I can do that."
I go inside the room, take off my clothes, and rest. Eventually, I hear Flot come in and do the same. I can tell that he is still having nightmares. He moves around a lot in his sleep, and his face almost always looks worried. I wish I could save him from his dreams, but I need him to sleep if I'm ever going to try my plan.
Ebb comes into the room and puts her hand on my chest to wake me. I was only half-asleep, but it startles me just the same. I look up into her eyes and she smiles, then nods, telling me I need to go now.
I get out of bed, and as quietly as possible I put on my clothes. I look over at my suit of armor and notice my knives. Should I take them? Then I ask myself, what would I do with them? I don't have an easy way to
carry them in my clothes. If one of them dropped, it would make so much noise that I would definitely be caught.
I also wonder what would I use it for. I'm not going to kill one of the protectors if I am found. So I decide to leave them there. I take my glowing stick though, even though it is not burning, so that I can see outside of the Crag.
I am finally ready. I look back at Flot to make sure he's still asleep, and it seems like his nightmares have passed. He is quietly snoring, and for the first time in a long while, he looks how young he is. With everything that has gone on lately, he acts like someone who has seen many more snows than he actually has.
I walk out of the room, give Ebb a smile, and then make my way down the twisting tunnels of the Crag. I make sure only to take a few steps at a time then listen for the protectors. It takes a while, but I can't risk making any mistakes.
I sneak into the cooking room. There are many baskets of vegetables sitting out, waiting to be made into dinner. I had thought I would pick some, but I have no idea how closely Chaff watches his gardens and fields. I take a few tomatoes, some cabbage, and some peppers.
I use the light from glowing sticks inside people's rooms to see my way around the dark tunnels. I do not chance lighting my own glowing stick yet. I make it to the room closest to the mouth of the cave and look inside. I see Shackle, one of the protectors of the Crag. He sleeps on the ground, wrapped up in animal furs.
He is a large man, and his body is in the way of his glowing stick. It is burning dimly on the wall. I put a foot over Shackle, and against the wall that his glowing stick is attached to. It keeps me from falling over. I stretch as far as I can, and I am just barely able to get my own glowing stick to light. I carefully push against the wall with my foot, pulling it back down to the ground. I then turn and leave his room.
A flicker of light and dark move in front of me, and I think that someone is there. It takes me a moment to realize it is just a shadow, cast from my glowing stick. I make my way outside the cave, with the peppers and tomatoes in my pockets, and the cabbage in my hand.
Off in the distance I can hear a wolf howling. It sounds far enough away that it shouldn't bother me. I also don't plan to travel very far for what I'm about to do. I have to find a place where others will follow, because they believe it is safe, but people won't go to on their own.
Sky Child Page 20
