The Scent of Lilac: An Arrow's Flight Novella

by Casey Hays

  It’s still partially unsettling, my sudden attachment to Chad… one that could bring trouble on my head. But tucked in his arms, I understand why I risk it. His touch… it’s more important to me now than ever.

  We still mate, and this too has become important. Because with the absence of a need for it, I’ve come to see how beautiful it is—that in its own right, there is most definitely a need for it beyond conception. Often, I think… this must be what Meg felt for her mate. And it must have felt this right.

  It scares me. It thrills me.

  It makes me very mindful of Meg’s end.

  Overnight, I have become a rebel. A shiver runs down my spine.

  Tonight, I lie against Chad’s chest. The moon is full, the cave is brightly illuminated, and his fingers brush slowly back and forth over my bare back. It feels nice, and I’m just on the edge of sleep when he speaks.

  “I’m ready now.”

  I raise my lids, sleepily. “For what?”

  “To go outside the gate. I’m ready.”

  Surprised, I pull up to look into his eyes.

  “I’ve been thinking,” he continues. “And I would like to know what it’s like on the outside.”

  Our eyes stay hooked together in a brave moment of realization until my skin races with goosebumps. On impulse, I excitedly lean in and kiss his lips… for the second time despite my promise to never do it again. He responds hungrily, pulling me to him until I’m encompassed in his strong arms, and I melt.

  This time when I push open the gate, Chad only momentarily hesitates. I check the vicinity for jailers or guards, and together, we step out into the night. I hear Chad’s breath catch in his chest, and I squeeze his hand reassuringly.

  We stand hand in hand, my eyes on him, his eyes on the sky above us. Just past the edge of the Pit, the moon lingers on a blanket of stars, and Chad’s mouth hangs open as he takes it in. Squinting one eye, he reaches out, measuring the moon between his thumb and forefinger.

  “It’s so bright. Amazing.” His eyes settle on me and then sweep down the line of gates. “It’s been so long...” His voice trails. I tighten my grip on his hand.

  “I would like to take you to the river, if I could,” I whisper, and he swivels his eyes back to meet mine. “If this amazes you, the river would leave you speechless. Blue and white... and foamy. In one moment, it’s powerful and full of life and terrifying, and in the next, it’s calm and clear and full of peace. It is the most beautiful creation.”

  “I would like to see it.” His response is laced with a heaviness that crushes my heart, and I suddenly wish I hadn’t mentioned it. But he keeps talking, and I focus on him. “I remember the nannies taking us there before we...” His words fade. He lowers his eyes, wiggles a bare toe into the dirt. “I don’t remember much about it. Just that it was wonderful.”

  “It is,” I answer.

  He’s very still. After a minute, he drops my hand and disappears back inside the cave. I press my fingertips to my lips and wrestle with my tears.

  *

  A week later, two locksmiths decide to resume their duties. They arrive with their tools. The work is slow, and by the time they leave the Pit on the first day, only five caves in the front section are repaired. I tell Chad the minute I reach his cave. He grows strangely quiet.

  “What is it?”

  Chad has been different ever since the night we stepped outside the gate. Quieter. More serious. I can’t remember the last time I saw his grin, and I miss it. He makes me wary.

  I drop to my knees next to where he sits on the mat. “Chad, I know something is bothering you. Please tell me.”

  He settles his stony gaze over me. There’s just enough light tonight to see his eyes dancing fervently. I wait, my brow creased with an anxious fear.

  He opens his mouth to speak, closes it. I rest my hand on his knee.

  “How long do you think it will be before the locksmiths reach my cave?”

  Surprised by the question, I lean back. “I don’t know. A few weeks. Maybe more. Why?”

  He swallows, studies me cautiously. “I want to see the river.”

  My breath eases out. “You do?”

  “Yes,” he shrugs. “I know my place is here, and I won’t forget that. I told you, I will never leave you, Mia.”

  I nod.

  “But I want to see the river,” he repeats. “Before they lock me in again.”

  My heart races, and I rise to my feet, pacing. This would have been much less harrowing a week ago, before guards were assigned to the Pit and the locksmiths decided to behave. Taking Chad outside the gate was risky enough as it is. This? Breeder or not, this is a death sentence if I’m caught.

  Chad lumbers to his feet halting me in my spot, and the look of anticipation riding in his eye shoves me right over the edge. I know. His freedom is inextricably tied to my own, and if he doesn’t have a small taste of it, I will never know what freedom feels like.

  I also know that we don’t have weeks. I’ve been fortunate so far, and the broken locks have made it easy for me to come and go as I please without a jailer’s assistance, but soon this won’t be the case. And soon another breeder will be assigned to Chad.

  The time is now.

  I breathe deep. “Wait here.”

  Outside the cave, I scan the area near the ladder. Only one guard is on duty tonight, walking the perimeter, checking for anything unusual. I can tell from her lazy pace that she’s not very attentive. I can also tell that it will take her quite some time to walk the full length of the Pit, work her way past each cave, and round back. She inspects nothing as she saunters along, assured that there is nothing to suspect. The stock know their place. This is an advantage.

  When she’s halfway down the opposite wall of the Pit, I slip back inside the cave.

  “Are you ready?” I don’t hide the anxious sound of my voice... or the sudden gleam of excitement, either. I don’t know who this girl is that has suddenly cropped up inside my skin, but she thrills me and terrifies me all at once.

  Chad grabs for my hand. His grin has returned, and in it, I find myself. A sudden calm settles over me. We step out.

  The jailers are tucked inside the barracks, and the guard, at the far end of the Pit now, isn’t even visible. Moving ahead of him, I watch for others. The ground crunches beneath our feet, the ladder comes into view, and my heart feels as if it may climb up my throat to burst out of my head.

  I climb the ladder with Chad close on my heels, and my excitement grows with each rung. And one badgering question batters my brain:

  What are you doing, Mia? WHAT ARE WE DOING?

  I don’t want to analyze the answer, so I don’t. Like before, I simply act.

  At the top of the ladder, I check for more guards, see none. I hoist myself up over the top and spin, scanning the Pit while Chad clambers over the edge. The guard is lost in the darkness below. Quickly, I take Chad’s hand and hurry toward the tree line that hides the river. As we near it, the comforting sound of the rushing water eases my fears, and the excitement floods in full force.

  I don’t pay much attention to Chad’s reactions as I hurry him away from the Pit, but once we’re under cover of the trees, I turn to him. His eyes are glazed with wonder as he takes in the wide open space surrounding him. He reaches out, dragging the tips of his fingers over a rough, tree trunk. He picks up a rock and runs a thumb across its smooth surface. A light breeze lifts a tuft of his hair, and he raises his face to the sky, eyes closed, just feeling. Tears threaten me; I strain to push them away. No tears. Not tonight.

  “Where is the Village from here?” he asks, and I point in the general direction.

  “They’re all sleeping by this hour,” I whisper. “Which means we’re the only two people awake in the world.”

  The statement floods me with a strange happiness, and my grip tightens in his hand.

  “I would like to see it again,” he says. “I saw it outside of the nursery only once, when I was taken to the P
it. But—I don’t remember very much about it.”

  I don’t say anything. I can never take him to the Village. But I can take him to the very place where Kate, Diana, and I spent so many lazy afternoons. When we reach it, we sink beneath a tree close to the edge of the river and simply sit in comfortable silence. All the while, his mouth hangs open in awe.

  “So much water,” he breathes.

  Laughing, I pluck a long stem of grass and position it between my lips. “I’ve spent countless hours here. It’s the most beautiful place on Earth.”

  “It is?” he asks. He lets his gaze fall over me for only a second before it’s drawn back to the waters.

  “I like to think so.” I grind the blade of grass between my teeth. “Of course, I have very little to compare it to. But it must be.”

  Chad scoots to the river’s edge, rolls onto his belly, and hangs a hand over. Smiling, I join him, hanging both my arms over the side. My fingers barely graze the surface of the water. After a moment, he plunges a fist in with a grin. I laugh.

  “Do you want to go in?”

  He swivels his head toward me, surprised. I leap to my feet and tug on his arm.

  “Come on.”

  I scuttle a few paces away to an area I know is safe for entry, inhale deeply, and jump. The cold water takes my breath away, and my skirt billows up around me. But the water only comes to my chin, so I slip beneath the surface, letting the river swallow me up. A few seconds, and I push off the sharp, rocky bottom with the tips of my toes and resurface.

  Chad stands on the bank, staring down at me with a look of shock distorting his features in the moonlight. I laugh, tossing my wet head back.

  “It’s a little chilly at first, but you’ll grow accustomed,” I offer. I cut through the water and splash at his feet. He takes a step back. “Hurry,” I urge. “The night won’t last forever.”

  He raises his brows, but soon enough, he tears off his vest and leaps without a second thought. The water rises up in a torrential gush as he plunges in, and I wince away, coughing on a mouthful of uninvited water. In the next moment, Chad is beside me bare-chested and grinning.

  I giggle and push away, floating on my back. Chad swishes through the water, walking carefully over the scattered rocks beneath us, amazement lighting his eyes. He can’t swim, obviously, but the water only reaches his chest.

  “So what do you think of the outside now?” I ask, moving in to wade beside him.

  He simply grins. I splash him in the face. He sputters, and returns a harsh wave of water. I scrabble backward, choking, but soon we’re both laughing.

  When our shivers turn dangerous, we climb out and lay shaking together on the bank. But before long, the heat of our intertwined bodies chases away the cold, and we lie breathless in each other’s arms, and everything in this moment is perfect.

  “Is it as amazing as I described?” I ask. I feel him nod against the top of my head, and a satisfied sigh causes his chest to sink inward beneath my cheek.

  “The stars are so—”

  Chad cuts off, unable to put into words what he’s thinking, and I toss my eyes upward. The stars stretch out in all directions above the trees like a sparkling blanket just for us. There isn’t a single cloud tonight, and I am grateful that Chad waited until this moment to ask me to bring him to the river. Everything is aligned so perfectly.

  “I wish I could bring you here in the hottest part of the day,” I whisper. Chad adjusts his arm beneath my head, pulling me closer.

  “I would like that. I don’t remember what the sun looks like.”

  “Well, you can’t look at it. It’s too bright. But you can feel it crisping up your skin. It’s a wonderful experience, the heat of the sun.”

  He nods, and I suddenly have an idea. I prop up on one elbow to look down at him.

  “You know, you could step out of the cave during the day. Just to feel it. I think you should.”

  He thinks, and his grin appears.

  “I will.”

  He says it with such exuberance, as if it’s the greatest announcement he’s ever made—which it very well could be—and I laugh. But when his grin fades, the moment grows suddenly serious, and the next, and the next until I realize that every moment we’ve shared tonight has been serious. And if we are ever caught in this dangerous dance we’ve begun, the consequences will be fatal.

  But at this moment, as the warmth of Chad’s skin arouses the warmth of my own, I don’t care. My nerves tremble as I think it.

  Chad eases up to a sitting position, pushing me up with him. He never takes his gaze from me, and I hold my breath. He presses in, and our lips lock together, smooth and pulsing with the same warmth—belonging together.

  I pull away, run my hand down the side of his face, and let it rest alongside his jawline. It is firm against my palm, his pulse thumping against my fingertips where they touch his neck. A real heartbeat. Human.

  “You know, Kate told me something once,” I say quietly. He waits, his soft gaze making my insides tremble. “She said… that her mate was from a village where men and women were equals. They believe in something called—marriage.”

  “What is that?” he asks.

  I shrug. “I’m not certain, except that it begins with a pledge between two people. To promise themselves to one another. For life.”

  He grows still, digesting all of this. With a half-laugh, I drop my eyes.

  “It’s silly—”

  Suddenly, he captures my hand that still rests against his jaw. “Okay.”

  I look at him. His fingers squeeze mine.

  “What?”

  “I will make that pledge.”

  There is no hint of humor in his tone, and my heart begins to thump erratically out of control. And again, I question what I’m doing, because this? This is a deadly leap—and yet, it feels so… perfect. Everything about this night is perfect.

  He waits for my response, barely breathing. I study him under the bright moon that floods its brilliance down over us, a witness to this moment. I raise my eyes, and the stars accompany him, and I search uneasily for Scorpio, fearful that his tail will swing out and lash me for my insubordination. But nothing happens. The river rolls past us as Chad offers his eternal oath, and I can think of nothing I want more than for someone to promise to be mine for eternity.

  I focus on Chad, this male, this man who has taken a little piece of my heart one day at a time even as I fervently fought against it, and I want his pledge. Only then do I allow the tears to come. I run a hand through his damp hair.

  “For all time, I give myself to you,” I whisper.

  A burst of frenzied fear accompanies my words, but Chad is there, kissing me and making me forget the fear. I cling to him, cling to this moment that should have never been.

  “We should exchange something. A token,” I say, and then I regret my words. Chad has nothing to give. I bite my lip at my lack of consideration. “I’m sorry. That was thoughtless.”

  “No it wasn’t,” he says. With a smile, he pulls on the drawstring of his pants, and taking a sharp rock, cuts off a four inch piece. He lifts my hand and ties it securely around my thumb. I hold it up to admire his humble gift.

  Quickly, I fumble through my pouch and pull out a tiny bottle of lilac shampoo—the last of mine and Kate’s final batch. I’ve carried it with me ever since she left, but now, I twist it open and hold it beneath his nose. He sniffs and smiles.

  “It smells like your hair.”

  “Yes. This will remind you of me. Always.” I press it into his palm. “Even when I can’t come to you, you will have it.”

  He closes his fist around the bottle and lets it drop to his lap with a frown. “Why wouldn’t you come to me?” I swallow, dropping my eyes, but he lifts my chin and repeats more swiftly, “Why wouldn’t you come to me?”

  His fingers are warm against my skin, and the tears return. My answer stretches on a long sigh. “I’m pregnant. You’re duty is finished for a time.”

&nb
sp; He’s speechless, staring at me as if I’ve just announced his death. And then, he shakes his head.

  “Don’t tell them.”

  “They already know.”

  With a slight inhale, he settles back, a clear pain crossing his features. It slices my heart in half.

  “I will come for as long as I can,” I say quickly. “I will. But there may be a time when I will be prevented. You need to understand this. And you need to know that it won’t be because I don’t want to.” When he doesn’t respond, I grab his hand. “Please tell me you’ll understand, Chad. Please.”

  He’s quiet, but finally he nods. “I’ll understand.”

  A sure relief floods me, and I sigh and fall against him until his arms envelop me. And when he squeezes tighter and lays his cheek atop my head, I’m assured that his feelings have not changed.

  I take him to the Pit before the sun can tattle on us. We only have to wait a short time for the guard to make her rounds again before I leave him safe inside his cave with a promise that I will return with the moon.

  Safely tucked into my hogan, I run the night’s events through my mind. I rub a loose end of Chad’s knotted token between my thumb and forefinger, and my heart swells just before I drift off to sleep.

  Chapter 9

  F

  or three weeks we keep up this charade. I’m careful—more careful than I’ve ever been in my life. Nobody knows that I spend every single night at the Pit. When morning comes, I step out of my hogan and help myself to the porridge like the others. And for a time, I truly believe this life could continue without interruption.

  No breeder has been assigned to Chad, and soon, I begin to wonder if the Council has changed its mind. I would not lose an ounce of sleep over that decision.

  Every day, more jailers return to their posts, and the Pit begins to function as it once did. I still bring Chad the leftovers from my dinner every night, careful to take back any dishes I bring along. We don’t venture to the river again. We will do nothing that might jeopardize our time together.