The Scent of Lilac: An Arrow's Flight Novella

by Casey Hays

  “There you are, girl.” She comes closer, breathing a little too heavy in her slightly plump body. “Walk with me.”

  She hands me the medicine bowl as she trudges past the other women huddling in front of their hogans.

  “I’ve informed the Council of your condition,” she begins, and I pick up the pace to match hers. “They were quite pleased, as you can imagine.”

  “Yes,” I nod, that feeling of elation growing.

  “As you know, you will have a reprieve from the Pit until after the birth.” She winks at me. “That must make you quite happy.”

  “Yes.” I keep my voice flat. “And my mate?”

  Rhoda tosses me a curious look. “What of him?”

  “Well, what will he do? While I’m away?”

  She frowns. “Why would you care?”

  We reach the small infirmary, and she slides through the bamboo leaves and deposits her load on the first table. I follow her in, resting my hip against the edge.

  “I’m just curious, is all.” I set the bowl down.

  “Oh, you’re curious?” She eyes me. “Curiosity is dangerous.”

  She fumbles through the items on another table until she finds a wooden shank. Returning to the first table, she pushes a few jars aside and spreads out one spindly branch of basil. She chops off a piece, deposits it into a stone mortar, and begins to grind it with the pestle. The bittersweet aroma floods my nostrils.

  “Well?” I press. She glances at me, sighs.

  “If you must know, he’ll be paired with another breeder.”

  I straighten, a strange shock slamming into my gut. “Who?”

  “Girl, I have no clue.” Her weathered hands work the pestle. “The Council decides such matters based on need.”

  “What kind of need?”

  I hear the indignant tone of my voice, and Rhoda does not miss it either. She stops grinding and leans forward over the table on the heels of her hands.

  “What has you ruffled, Mia?” Her eyes pin me with warning. “I hope you are not planning to follow in the footsteps of some of your friends. I would hate to see a nasty end to you.”

  She squints, and I ease my hip away from the table, wringing my hands.

  “I told you, I’m only curious.”

  “Hmmph,” she huffs, and leans back.

  I’m silent for a moment, contemplating how to approach the subject again with less aggression. This has never been easy for me, but I know Rhoda. I’ve sat under her teaching since the moment I was released from the nursery and stumbled upon the wonderful art of medicine. And despite my chosen destiny, Rhoda saw my skill for what it is. She has never turned me away, and she has never failed to answer a single one of my questions.

  “I was at the nursery this morning.” She takes up the pestle again. I focus on her lips. “Checking over the upcoming stock. We have a shortage of males this season. Again.”

  I crease my brow. “So we have more breeders than we do stock. Is this what you’re saying?”

  “This is what I’m saying.” She lifts the mortar and pours its powdery contents into a small, glass jar.

  “How did this happen?” I ask.

  “Not enough male births,” she says matter-of-factly. “And to make matters worse, too many disposals over the past few years in my opinion.” Her voice carries a note of disapproval. “We simply have to double up the assignments in some cases. Now that we know your mate is productive, we can do the same with him.”

  I’m numb, and my hand involuntarily slides up to rest over my belly. Rhoda, who never misses a thing with her keen physician’s eyes notices. She nods.

  “So let’s hope, for once, that child you carry is a viable boy.” She winks. “I’d hate having to revert to Mona’s plan again.”

  I straighten at this. “Mona’s plan?”

  Rhoda pauses, the glass jar in her grip, and a look of regret passes across her features. “Never mind that,” she says quickly. “Mona won’t be making anymore decisions for the Village.”

  A sick feeling rises even as she turns away to deposit the jar with a clatter onto a shelf littered with other jars and pots. She makes light of her comment, hoping I will forget what she said, but she can’t change that I heard it. I am not an idiot. Kate was very clear that Ian was from somewhere else as was Meg’s mate.

  I don’t have to question Rhoda further to know her meaning. A shortage of males caused Mona to look elsewhere. Timidly, I run my fingers across the edge of the table.

  “You don’t think the Council would continue with Mona’s plans to cure the shortage?”

  I half hope her answer is what I want to hear, but she quickly shakes her head.

  “The Council’s plans are to do nothing like Mona.”

  I consider this. So it was only Mona who was brutal and not the entire Council. Even Tara’s harsh personality does not compare. But still, I don’t like how Rhoda’s revelation makes me feel, and my thoughts skip to Chad. There is no stopping it; Chad will be assigned to someone else.

  It shouldn’t matter to me what they do with a dog once he’s fulfilled his duty. And it didn’t matter once. Now, I’m left feeling disgusted at the thought of Chad with someone else.

  He belongs with me.

  This sudden thought skimming through my brain stuns me, and my gorge rises. I choke it back long enough to whisk through the bamboo leaves. Bending, I vomit in the dirt.

  “Are you using the syrup?” Rhoda calls through the door.

  “Yes,” I whisper. I close my eyes, my hands on my knees.

  This time, syrup most definitely isn’t going to help me.

  *

  I don’t sleep well, and this is rare. Sleeping has never been a problem, unless sleeping too much is accounted for. But tonight, it is a problem. When I do manage to fall into a fitful sleep, Chad seeps into my dreams, and I wake over and over in a panicked sweat.

  By the time the sun is barely rising over the mountains, I’ve made an uncomfortable decision. I have to ease my mind somehow, so I will go to the one council member I trust.

  Eleven large hogans stand in a long line just beyond the Great Hall, flanked by tall trees with sweeping branches. It is uncommon for any of the women to visit this area, and my palms begin to sweat as I approach the path that will take me there.

  I don’t question authority; I never have. Kate managed to do so enough for the both of us, and I pause on the path, hesitant. I should turn around, go back to my hogan, and keep my mouth shut. I may gain nothing but trouble from this brave moment, which could define the course of my life. I wring my hands, turn, and take a few steps back toward the center of the Village.

  But then Chad is in my head again, and his lips are on mine, and his breath is warmth with the smell of mint… and I regret that kiss more than ever. And then, in the next second, I don’t—and this urges me to turn around and move forward. Another bend in the path, and I see the hogans.

  Several of the council members are outside enjoying the warm, morning sunshine, and Anna Maria is the first to spot me.

  “Mia! What a surprise to see you here.”

  She sits on the stoop of her hogan, her aged back hunched forward grotesquely in her long, gray shroud of a dress. She is the oldest member of the clan, and well-respected for her wisdom. I stop in front of her, giving a small curtsy.

  “What brings you here, girl?”

  “I’ve come to see Leah,” I say quietly.

  Anna Maria shifts her body upward to the best of her ability, and it looks so painful that I drop to my knees in front of her and lower my head to meet her eyes.

  “Leah’s hogan is three doors over.” A smile squeezes out of her wrinkled face, then disappears. She raises a bony finger. “I suppose you’re missing Kate.”

  My mouth parts when she says this, and I swipe the tip of my tongue across my lower lip and sigh.

  “I am,” I admit. “And… there are a few harsh words I would like to say to her for abandoning me here.”

 
; The old woman’s smile returns. “I don’t doubt it. But take comfort; we haven’t seen the last of her.”

  I pull back. “Why do you say that?”

  “Oh, for one, I’ve lived a very long time. I’m acutely attuned to a girl’s proclivities. And secondly, Kate has work to do here, and she is passionate about it. She sensed her life was in danger; she left the Village with a sweeping impulse—to survive, and rightly so, for now. But fear not. Something will bring her back here to finish what she began.”

  I stare at her. “Do you really think so?”

  “I do.” Her back grows suddenly tired, and she slinks her head forward to rest it on her chest. “Now, you have business with Leah. Go on about it.”

  I rise, leaving her to bask in the sun. Her words are bold, but I’m not quite certain I believe them. Perhaps old age is catching up to her.

  I make my way down the path to Leah’s hogan. Each dwelling is marked with the sign under which that council member was born, and carved into Leah’s, right above the doorway, is the Lion. I study it for a moment, before moving closer to rustle the bamboo.

  “Leah?”

  “Yes? Come in.”

  I shove through the leaves to find Leah seated on a low stool eating a bowl of porridge. Seeing me, she lowers the bowl and wipes her hands on a cloth spread over her lap.

  “Mia. What an unusual surprise. How good to see you.” She gestures toward a stool beside her, and I slink over and drop onto it. “Have you eaten?”

  I shake my head, and she stands, moves to a small kettle and dips up another bowl of porridge, handing it off to me. When I bite into it, I notice molasses has been stirred throughout the whole batch. Leah sits. My eyes sweep across the interior of her hogan, which is similar to mine, but bigger.

  “Is something on your mind?” She scoops up her own bowl again, pauses just before taking a bite. “Are you here to report a breeder uprising?”

  She smiles when she says this, but her eyes hold a hint of uncertainty until I shake my head.

  “No uprising. Actually, I’ve come about—” I cut my words short, pondering how I should begin. “It’s about my… pregnancy.”

  “Oh, yes.” She smiles, her eyes brightening. “We heard the news yesterday. It’s taken some time, and I’m sure you’re relieved.”

  “I am,” I nod, trying to smile. “But—”

  I break off, my thoughts suddenly clearing, and I know that I must simply say what is on my mind. I push forward then without hesitation.

  “I’m wondering about my mate.”

  Leah’s brows lift with surprise, and she lowers the bowl to her lap. “Yes?”

  “Well… Rhoda tells me he is to be paired with another girl during my absence.”

  “Yes,” she nods. “That is not unusual.”

  “But…” I clear my throat, squeezing my fingers more tightly around the bowl. “I’m confused.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “As you said, it’s taken quite some time for me to conceive. So why would the Council think another girl would be any more fortunate?”

  Leah raises her head, her mouth dropping open with understanding. “Are you asking that we dispose of him?”

  A panic sweeps over me. “No!”

  My answer is far too exuberant, and Leah purses her lips, eyeing me with some suspicion. I wriggle uncomfortably on the stool until she speaks.

  “I see. Well, there is always the possibility of another girl having the same issues. If so, disposal would be our first option. But we’ve also seen the reverse. With another girl, we may have instant results.”

  My eyes widen as another shock bounces through me. “But then, that would mean…”

  I can’t say it, so Leah finishes the sentence for me. “That you were the problem? Yes.”

  In despair, I sink lower on my stool, but Leah reaches out with a soothing hand, squeezing my arm.

  “All of that is behind you, Mia. You shouldn’t fret over the dog anymore. What we choose to do with him is, and has always been, council business.”

  I can’t look at her. I stare into the cooling bowl of porridge, wishing I hadn’t come. Because what she says is completely sensible. Perhaps my difficulty in conceiving had nothing to do with Chad, and the only way of knowing for certain is to assign him to someone else. And it shouldn’t be my concern.

  But that nauseous feeling rises in my gut again anyway, and my head is spinning.

  “Is there anything else?”

  I hear Leah’s voice as if it comes rolling out of a long tunnel, and I force myself to concentrate on her face. After a moment, I shake my head and stand.

  “No.”

  She takes the bowl from me. “Then go enjoy your time away from the Pit. It will be gone before you know it.”

  Chapter 8

  U

  nder shadow, I slip into Chad’s cave in the middle of the night. I slide beneath the blankets and press up against his back. He stirs momentarily when I slip my arm around his waist, but he settles back into sleep after taking my hand and weaving our fingers together.

  Kate and Diana’s departure has changed everything about my life… except for this. This monotonous routine that I’ve participated in for almost a year now is all I have left. This is why I keep coming here even when I don’t have to. I crave it. On mending day, I sit by the river alone. I make lilac shampoo… alone. I eat alone. I never realized how much those four girls meant to me until this moment when there is nothing left of them. They were my life.

  This morning, after I left Leah, I found myself at Kate’s hogan. No one has touched it since she left. Her basket of clothes sat in the corner, and I took up a blouse and pressed it to my nose and the scent of lilac filled my nostrils. I’d curled into a ball on her mat and cried for a good while. And I felt no better after.

  I squeeze closer to Chad until my body cups his. Right here, inside this musty, dark cave is the only place I don’t feel alone. Or sad.

  I’ve denied my connection to Chad for too long. I do care. I’ve cared since the moment Kate brought it to my attention. And I can’t bear the thought of not coming back here for months.

  I can’t bear the thought of another girl taking my place.

  I reach up, stroke Chad’s hair away from his face.

  “Chad?”

  I shake him; he stirs and rolls over.

  “Mia? What are you doing here?” His voice is rough with sleep, and it makes me shiver with a strong desire. I lift up on one elbow to peer down at him, although all I can see is the dark shadow of his face. “I’m not dreaming, am I?”

  “No, you’re not dreaming,” I whisper. I stand tugging on his hand. “Will you come with me?”

  “What?”

  “Come with me.”

  He lumbers off the mat to tower over me in the dark, not quite awake. I tangle my fingers with his and pull him toward the dim moonlight. The hairs on my arms rise with anticipation as I consider what I’m doing, but for once, I shut my mind off and simply act. I shove open the gate.

  I’m pulled to an abrupt halt when Chad suddenly stops. I turn.

  “What are you doing?” His confusion funnels through his grogginess.

  I step up close to him, peer up into his eyes. “Going out. Just outside the gate.”

  Alert, he stares at me as if I’ve lost my mind—which isn’t a stretch—and then, he shakes his head, backing away.

  “I can’t.”

  “But see, you can,” I step forward, taking his hands, squeezing his fingers with fervor—as if my own life depends on what he decides. “The gate is open. Nothing’s stopping us.”

  He shakes his head, and I press closer, pleading.

  “Chad, I know you’re scared—”

  He stops me. “I’m not scared.”

  Puzzled, I lean back. “Then what is it?”

  “This is where I belong.” He eases a step away from me.

  His words fill me with a strange sorrow. And here it is again: his duty. Just
as Leah said, he’s been well-trained. In this moment, I see a true lack of need for a single lock in the Pit.

  Peering up at him, I step in, squeeze his hands. “Do you trust me?”

  He tilts his head, and after a long, silent few seconds, he nods.

  “Then come with me, just for a few minutes.”

  I tug on his hand, a deep desire riffling to the top of my emotions. It’s an odd sensation, but it’s very real, and it makes me feel as if Chad is drowning and completely unaware of it. And before it’s too late—before the Council gets around to shutting up all the gates—he has to taste his freedom, and I have to bask in it with him, even temporarily.

  I see his mind working, the breath easing in and out of his chest the only sound.

  “Just outside?” he finally asks.

  I nod, a hope rising. Another long pause as he stares at the gate. But after a moment, he shakes his head again and takes another backward step, tugging free from my grip.

  “I can’t.”

  This time his tone is filled with finality. I sink inside. Behind me, the gate rattles with the wind. Chad climbs back onto his mat and pulls the blankets up to his chin.

  *

  I stay with Chad every night after this, always making sure to leave the cave long before the sun rises. I’m determined to do so for as long as I can, and my leaving is more difficult each time, marked with finality. It creeps in on me like a horrid, old hag waiting for her chance to snatch me away forever with her nasty claws. I haven’t the heart to tell him that very soon I will not return, and that someone else will come in my place. Instead, I press myself up solidly against his side, delight in the feel of his embrace, and try not to think.

  When the Council decides to utilize some of the guards, placing them on watch in the Pit as a precaution until the gates are repaired, I’m fully aware of the added danger. Breeders don’t sleep in the Pit, and I’m terrified of being caught. And so, I take care to learn the routines of both guards and jailers alike. I map out the best route to Chad’s cave. I memorize every shadow that will keep me hidden, and I sigh in relief once I’m in his arms.