The Scent of Lilac: An Arrow's Flight Novella

by Casey Hays

  “So the sick feeling is natural?”

  “Completely. You’ll most likely feel nauseous in the mornings for a while, but it should pass.” She reaches for a brown bottle capped with a bark topper. “Here’s your ginger. Now move along. I have other patients to see to.”

  Still reeling from the news, I take the bottle from her and turn toward the exit.

  “You’re very fortunate, Mia,” Rhoda adds, and I pause just inside the doorway. “The Moirai have been good to you.”

  “Yes,” I nod. Finally.

  “I’ll report it to the Council,” she concludes, and I nod and slip out.

  A slight anxiousness gathers in the recesses of my belly, and I press a palm against it as I trudge to my hogan. Could there truly be a little life in there? After all this time, it’s going to happen? I’m going to bear a child for the Village?

  A small sliver of a smile edges into place on my lips before another thought invades—an overwhelmingly painful thought that surprises me.

  With Rhoda’s report, I will no longer be required to go to the Pit.

  A few, short months ago, I would have welcomed this news with open arms. I would have reveled in my days of freedom until the birth. I had such plans in mind to fill my time away from the Pit. Plans which included Kate and Diana.

  I emit a short sigh and push them out of my mind. And in that slice of space, Chad slips into my thoughts. I wonder for half a second if I should go to him with my news. But will he care? It only means that he won’t see me for a time, and surely, he will be just as relieved as I that our duty is behind us for now. But at the thought, that strange feeling in my chest returns with Chad all twisted up inside it. I clench the bottle of ginger until my knuckles whiten.

  I shouldn’t have kissed him; I know this now. The memory taunts me, reminding me that I allowed myself to cross a line in an emotional moment. With that one small gesture, I’ve aroused a different kind of feeling in both of us, and it frightens me. It was too familiar, his face so close, his eyes piercing me. And I remember… there was something different written in them—something beyond the raw, innate desire of a breeder that is necessary to perform our duty.

  Kate asked me once if I felt love for Chad. I don’t know what it feels like, but if this is it…

  I shudder the thought away. I can’t have that in my life. It will complicate things the way it complicated Meg right to her death. I saw what it did for Kate. She is banished from the Village forever. No. I will not have it.

  My mind made up, I slip the bottle of ginger into my pouch purse and head for the dining hall. Hunger is the only feeling I’m willing to serve for now.

  Chapter 6

  W

  here have you been hiding?”

  The sniveling sound of Daija’s voice causes the hairs to bristle on the back of my neck. I ease my bowl of stew closer to my chest as she takes a seat on the low bench beside me and props an elbow on the table.

  “I haven’t been hiding,” I answer, tossing her a disdainful look. I’m not in the mood for her today.

  “You also haven’t been seen.” She pauses, tipping her head to the side. I take another bite of stew. “Your hogan was empty this morning. Did you have another meeting with Kate?”

  A slow, angry sigh eases from my lungs. I lower my clay bowl with a clunk against the table and twist in my seat to face her.

  “No?” she taunts. “So you slept in the Pit, then?” Her mouth twitches into a quick smile before fading. I stare her down, irritation swelling. “Isn’t that what your group of friends likes to do? Turn the stock into something human?”

  I stand too quickly, upsetting the half-full bowl of stew—right into Daija’s lap. She leaps to her feet as the hot liquid penetrates, soaking through her skirt and leaving chunks of potatoes and meat clinging to the fabric. Her face is a sheet of anger.

  “You are a clumsy, useless girl who can’t get anything right!” she seethes through gritted teeth. She spreads her stance wide, and stew drips off the hem, pattering the floor. I laugh.

  Her brows knit together into a dangerous frown.

  “Oh? A breeder who can’t breed thinks this is funny? You have one duty, and you can’t even manage that.”

  By now, the other women have stopped eating to watch us. I can hear their low banter as they discuss the scuffle, and suddenly I feel very tired. I just want this episode to be over. With an effort, I pull back my shoulders until I gain at least an inch in height on Daija.

  “I’m managing just fine.” I glare into her eyes. “And I’ll ask you to keep out of my business.”

  Perhaps it is the pregnancy or the disrespectful mention of my friends… or the plain hilarity of the situation at hand, but my spunk is back. And I’m not about to let Daija who is as much a nobody as I am thwart it any longer.

  “How dare you!” she screeches, and the stew drips, and the moment simply grows funnier. “You need to show a little respect to your elders.”

  “And when I see one, I will,” I counter.

  I spit the end of my sentence at her, and her eyes burn before they flick with embarrassment to a spot over my shoulder. I turn. Tara sits in the corner, a large mug blocking a portion of her face from view. She watches us; I nod respectfully in her direction. She dips her head at me before her eyes settle on Daija, who turns abruptly and leaves the dining hall without another word.

  With a sigh, I sit, keeping my eyes on Tara a moment longer. Blaer takes the empty seat beside me.

  “She deserved that.”

  I glance at her, sarcasm lining my voice when I answer. “Do you think so?”

  “Yes.” She stares at me with her big, round, light green eyes. “She is the worst person I know.”

  Her voice is so dramatically serious, that I laugh before using my hand to scoop the chunks of stew off the table and back into the bowl.

  “They won’t tire of harassing you.”

  She props her elbows onto the table and lays a cheek against her clasped fists. I pause in my cleaning.

  “How do you know?”

  “I’ve watched Daija and her friends all my life. Once you’ve been placed in the forefront of their minds, they never forget to make your life as miserable as they can.”

  “Well, they can badger me all they like; they’ll get nowhere with someone who knows nothing.”

  I stand and work my way through the tables to the dirty dish bin. Blaer follows.

  “I believe you,” she insists. I turn, and she’s right there, her nose so close to my face that it startles me. I step back a pace. “If you say you haven’t seen Kate, I believe you.”

  I frown. “I don’t need you to believe me.”

  “You’d be surprised what you need.”

  I can’t make sense of that statement. Exasperated, I toss the bowl into the bin and turn to leave, hoping to be rid of her. Again, she follows me.

  Outside, the sun shines hot in a blue sky. A breeze whips at my cheeks and upsets some loose strands of my hair, and I pick up my pace. Blaer keeps in step with me. When we reach our section of hogans, I stop, facing her.

  “Do you need something, Blaer?”

  She shakes her head. “No. Why do you ask?”

  I raise a brow and study her closely. Her red braid clings to the side of her neck, and she stands straight-back tall, her hands clasped behind her. She is very pretty with those green eyes flashing out of her cream-toned face.

  “You do remember that we aren’t friends, right?” I remind her.

  “We could be,” she shrugs. “And from the looks of things, you could use one.”

  Blaer had plenty of invitations to join my friends in the nursery. We always thought she would make a great addition, but she never cared too much for us. Every time one of us approached her to ask if she wanted to play tag or simply climb the big tree that stood in the middle of the grounds, she would glare down the edge of her nose at us and shake her head decisively. We were far too silly for her.

  “Why no
w?” I tilt my head. “You wanted nothing to do with me in the nursery.”

  She shrugs again. “Perhaps I’ve changed my position since our nursery days.”

  I lift my chin suspiciously. “Well, it’s too late for all that. And stop following me.”

  “I’m not following you.” She thumbs at her hogan. “I live here.”

  “Right.” I take in her hogan, feeling foolish. Another awkward moment, and I spin on my heels and move up the path quickly.

  “When you change your mind, you know where I am,” she calls after me. I pretend not to hear.

  Inside my hogan, I’m restless. My conversation with Blaer has turned my thoughts toward my friends. It’s a beautiful day—a day we would have spent lounging on a blanket by the river. I almost hear Kate’s laugh riding on the breeze in my memory, and I suddenly feel very lonely for her.

  Shaking this feeling away, I gather up a blanket and my pouch. I can go to the river on my own, and I make up my mind to enjoy the warm day all by myself.

  Halfway to our favorite spot, my feet seem to take an involuntary turn, and before I realize what I’ve done, I’m standing at the edge of the Pit. Small spurts of dust kick up around me, and I simply stare downward.

  A few jailers loiter near the barracks today. I learned that while I was in the Pit last night, a mandate was ordered that forbade anyone from feeding or sharing food with them. According to Rhoda, a handful of the jailers’ need for rebellion weakened as the hunger in their stomachs grew stronger, and they returned to their duties. Still, there are enough holding to their convictions to prevent the Pit from fully functioning.

  I glance across the wide expanse in the direction of Chad’s cage, and my loneliness seems to rumble in my bones. As appealing as the river is, I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to sift through my feelings anymore either. And the quiet, cool darkness of Chad’s cave suddenly seems so inviting.

  The moment I take hold of the first rung of the ladder, Ash’s head pops up over the rim. Startled, I shift out of her way. She hikes her leg over the top rung and stands upright, adjusting her skirt. She is the last person I care to see after my encounter in the dining hall. I keep my eyes on her a minute too long, and she frowns.

  “What?” she snaps.

  Swallowing, I prepare myself for another confrontation. “Nothing.”

  She eyes the blanket tucked under my arm, but she doesn’t move.

  In reality, Ash is much less intimidating when she’s not with Daija. She’s small and pretty with straight, white-blonde hair that hangs past her waist—nothing like the stout, dark-haired Daija or the tall, broad-shouldered Gina—and I’ve always wondered what the attraction was. It’s not unusual for those who will one day bear the same duty to be drawn together. This was the case for Kate and me… and Diana, Layla, and Meg. But not Ash. Even as children in the nursery, she and the two future hunters were a solid threesome, as inseparable as the five of us.

  “Well, are you heading down, or is your plan to stand there all day looking foolish?”

  I pause a moment, uncertain. I didn’t initially intend to come to the Pit today, and a sudden unease at her finding me here makes my cheeks feel hot, which is ludicrous. I grip the edge of the blanket, thinking how intimate it must look—me carrying such a thing down into the Pit. But when she haughtily crosses her arms over her chest, an irritation goads me, and I narrow my eyes at her. I shouldn’t let her ruffle me; she isn’t my keeper.

  “That’s none of your business.”

  I scowl at her, and with a huff, she takes her leave, tossing me a disdainful look over her shoulder. I sigh heavily. I never had this kind of trouble until Kate decided to have her say on the platform. The moment she left I became a central focal point as one of her closest friends. I growl inside a little, but I had my chance to leave with her and didn’t take it. Ash, on the other hand, has no right to treat me indignantly. She was mated long before I was and still has not conceived. I place a hand over my belly, and with full malice, I silently wish the ugly, hairy Bruce upon her.

  I find Chad busily running in place when I arrive. He wipes his forearm across his sweaty brow, a curious smile edging onto his lips as I push through the gate.

  “You couldn’t stay away from me, I see.” His breath is heavy, and he laughs when I roll my eyes. I take a step into the room, tossing the blanket onto his mat.

  “Aren’t you full of humor?” I shrug my pouch strap up and over my head, depositing it at my feet. “I come and go as I please, thank you very much.”

  His eyes crinkle in the corners, and I stifle a smile and sit. He plops down beside me, breath heavy, and wipes his face with the end of his shirt.

  “I don’t mind,” he says, working to control his breathing. “You can come every day, and I won’t mind.”

  His words make me happy, as impractical as they are, and I’m about to say so when a jailer appears at the gate, yanking it open and shoving a tray of bread and water through. I stare at her.

  “That’s it?” I frown. “That’s all he gets?”

  “Yes,” she growls. “And you get nothing.”

  The slamming gate echoes as she leaves.

  “It’s okay,” Chad smiles. “At least this is my second meal today.”

  I cross my arms over my chest, irritated. “You’ve performed your duty well, Chad. You deserve more than this.” I huff once. “I wish those jailers would stop with this nonsense and get back to work.”

  I surprise myself as the words spill from my mouth. Chad simply stares at me, because I’ve never spoken in this way before, claiming that he deserves anything. I smile and nod toward the tray.

  “Go on and eat.”

  He sidles over, picks up the bread and chomps on it. After a moment, he scoops up the clay cup of water and settles on the mat beside me.

  “How are you feeling?” he asks. “After being sick in the night?”

  I smile at the familiarity in his voice. “I feel fine.”

  “Yes. Because you woke up here.” His grin returns. “In my arms.”

  He jokes, and it’s sweet. But heat rises, sliding up my neck and into my cheeks. In the light of day, I’m suddenly very aware of my recent behavior in this cave, and guilt nags at me. My gaze settles on Chad, and the warmth in his eyes draws me. My heart thumps; he blinks once. I clear my throat and look away.

  “I saw the Village physician,” I say, my eyes on the gate. “She says I’m not sick.”

  “That’s good.” He takes a long swig of the water, lowers the cup, and looks at me. “That means you can kiss me again.”

  Something catches in my throat, and I am very still beside him. He’s different today. Full of teasing confidence. After a moment, I shake my head.

  “Chad, stop talking like this.”

  “Why?”

  “Because… it’s strange.” After a moment, I add. “And there won’t be another kiss.”

  His brows push together. “Why not?”

  “Because I never should have let it happen. It’s not common.”

  “It should be common.” His eyes burn into me. “It’s the nicest thing I’ve ever felt.”

  Me too. I catch the thought before it becomes words.

  “I had a dream about you after you left this morning,” he adds. “And you did kiss me again.” He grins, then changes the subject. “The gate is still unlocked.”

  He takes another bite and sweeps his eyes toward the bamboo bars, and my eyes follow. A wind burst suddenly rattles the gate. It eases open slightly and clatters shut again.

  I watch Chad eat. He looks nice today. Handsome. Especially since his recent bath and shave. His jawline smoothes into a thick neck, and the defining muscles of his shoulders and upper arms have grown more prevalent with his exercises. He looks strong. Without thinking, I reach a hand toward his arm. My fingers graze the bicep. He looks at me.

  “What else do you dream of… besides me?”

  His eyes flick slightly and then fill with intensi
ty.

  “I don’t dream often,” he concedes. “But when I do, I’m always a little boy… in the nursery. And I’m—happy.” He shrugs, a slight smile lighting his lips. “That’s the only time I remember being happy. Until now.”

  He focuses on me, and I let my hand fall away as his words sink in.

  “I dream of you, Mia. And then you’re here, and I don’t have to dream anymore.”

  He takes my hand. His is warm, and it swallows mine up. The nursery was a happy place. I remember.

  Chad has never told me about the “in-between” part of his life—in between the nursery and the Pit. Every time I’ve asked, he cringes and closes me off. That alone makes me wary. Truly, I don’t want to know, and he shouldn’t have to relive it.

  “Why did you really come today?” Chad asks, and the question yanks me back to the present moment, his hand still warm over mine. I purse my lips, thinking.

  “I’m—I’m missing my friends terribly today,” I confess. “I suppose—” I shake my head, eyes down. “I just needed to be with someone familiar.”

  His chest heaves once, puffed up with air, and his shoulders sag with a satisfied sigh. And then that sweet, crooked grin spreads across his face.

  “Stop it.” I shake my head, feigning exasperation, but I can’t help smiling. I’ve come to know that his grin is somehow contagious, and I must give into it every time he offers it. “So you’re happy? Right now?”

  The smile fades. “I’m as happy as I can be. Only because I remember the feeling.” He pauses, his eyes swiveling toward the gate again. “The Council thinks they wipe us clean when they cage us, but they can’t. Somewhere, far way, we remember that we are human.” He faces me. “And yes, you have brought that feeling back to me.”

  I swallow, fighting tears, but they spring to my eyes. Chad’s face lights with his smile again, and something in my heart nudges me one step closer to him.

  Chapter 7

  M

  ia!”

  I pause just outside my hogan, hand on the doorframe, and turn toward the voice. Rhoda comes bumbling toward me. She clutches a medicine bowl in one hand and a clay pot in the other. Swags of herbs fresh-picked from the medicinal garden drape over her arms.