by Casey Hays
“Then you’d best start sending her now,” I answer flatly. “Because if I’ve counted correctly, I am two months from my time.”
Leah lifts a brow, jarred by my clipped announcement. I merely stare at her. My anger hasn’t burned off just yet.
“I won’t let anything happen to you.” Her words are firm and steady.
I want to believe her. I try to.
But then… morning comes... and everything changes.
*
The jailer opens the gate for the two guards. I barely have time to roll over on the mat before they enter and haul me to my feet.
“Wh—What’s happening?” I stammer, sleep still heavy in my voice. “What are you doing?”
They plant me in the middle of the room, and I stagger on shaky feet until one of them grabs my elbow and steadies me. The other one gestures toward the open doorway.
“The Council has called an assembly. We’re to take you to the clearing.”
“The clearing?” I straighten, brushing the sleep from my eyes, and look at the guard still gripping my elbow. Ruth. She sweeps her hand toward the entrance again, but I hold my place, my eyes widening with a sudden, familiar fear. “What for?”
“We know as much as you do.”
A cold chill eases down the length of my spine. The baby feels it and gives me a hard kick. There are only ever two reasons we are summoned to the clearing: for a celebration… or an execution.
I swallow, clench my fists. “I’d rather not go.”
Ruth frowns, shifts in her brown leather uniform. “You have no choice, Mia.”
I step away and bump into the chest of the other guard. She looms over me by at least a head, and both her hands clamp onto my upper arms. A draft sweeps into the cave causing the bamboo to whistle like an out-of-tune wooden instrument, and every ounce of peace that I felt just yesterday vanishes.
“You can walk, or we can drag you out,” she says, her fingers tightening around my arms.
My eyes drift toward the markings etched into the wall. Thirty-three notches. Thirty-three days of my life have passed by, and this just since I started counting. This reality jabs me in the gut and my shoulders sag. What good will it do to fight them? Whether I’m being summoned for a celebration or for my own execution, I can’t gain one single day back. And what would be braver? To fight them here and still be dragged to the clearing or to face whatever is in store for me on my own terms? I know what Kate would have done. Another tense minute, and I jerk out of the guard’s grip and exit the cave. They follow.
The walk to the ladder is a long, silent one, and it doesn’t escape me that of all the women purportedly locked in the Pit, I am the only one the guards fetch. This conclusion makes me even more wary as I struggle to climb the ladder against my weight. Safely at the top, I face Ruth.
“Am I to be set free?”
This is my wishful thinking rising to the surface. I fear the worst. Ruth glances at me with piercing green eyes outlined by a yellow circle around the edges.
“We weren’t told any details. Only to bring you at once.”
“Only me?”
“Only you.”
“And who ordered it?”
She doesn’t answer, instead walking away. The other guard, I don’t recall her name at all, nudges me until I move forward and set my gait to match Ruth’s. The lump already lodged in my throat swells a size, and I say nothing more, but my thoughts stampede through my head. Perhaps the Council has changed its mind about my punishment. The cold sensation invading my spine seems to freeze, choking out any possibility of warmth. I am doomed.
The clearing is crowded with women when we arrive, and several eyes turn my way as Ruth and her companion escort me through the bodies to the platform. Their expressions are confused, wary, dissatisfied—an accurate commentary on the mood of the Village. I search the platform, find Leah at the edge near the back corner. Tara is nowhere to be seen, and a sense of relief swims through me. The hunched figure of Anna Maria stands beside Leah along with four other members. This is all.
At the foot of the platform, we stop. Ruth exchanges a glance with Leah; she nods and Ruth and the other guard leave me standing there. Confused, I gape at Leah. She winks at me, which only confuses me further, and she sweeps to the front of the platform.
The crowd is extremely quiet, on edge, and just as confused as I am. We turn our eyes upward together and wait for Leah to speak.
“We’ve called you here today because we have some news to share.”
A rumbling of voices suddenly flows over the crowd and just as quickly stills into silence again. I watch Leah, an anticipation welling up in me. She presses clasped hands against the front of her skirt and takes a tiny step forward.
“The Moirai have not been kind to us for some months now,” she continues. “We have been leaderless, we’ve been deprived of a healthy supply of stock, and we have had to staunch one rebellion after another to keep the Village at peace. Needless to say, the Council has been tirelessly at work trying to keep your home safe.”
A few grumbles rise and fall. I keep my eyes glued on her face.
“We know you have been unhappy. Life has not been the same since Mona’s untimely death, and frankly, this has left all of us in a lengthy stupor. But I’m very happy to report—”
“What do you think you’re doing?”
The roar explodes from the very back, and the sea of women parts as Tara stomps through. Trailed by Eleanor and the other three council members, she storms the platform and charges up the steps to face Leah.
“You’ve called a meeting after I expressly forbid it? What is the meaning in this?”
Leah’s demeanor is as calm as a windless day as she takes in Tara’s rage. “A meeting was necessary.”
Tara narrows her eyes, her voice dropping an octave. “You cannot call a meeting.”
“But I can,” Leah replies, never swaying her gaze from Tara’s face. “The Council statutes are very clear. ‘A council member may call assembly at any time as long as six members are in agreement and as long as there is true cause to do so.’” She sweeps her hand, palm up toward the five women standing behind them.
Tara breathes a long puff of air through her nostrils, her cheekbone dancing in irritation as she grits her teeth. “And what true cause are you indicating?”
Only then does Leah smile. “It appears the Moirai have decided upon a leader.”
Tara’s mouth parts in astonishment. The women within earshot begin to chatter excitedly among themselves. I’m just as stunned as Tara, and I move a step closer to the platform, straining to hear as the crowd grows louder.
Eleanor clatters up the steps to stand next to Tara.
“What do you mean they’ve decided upon a leader?” she exclaims. “Are you so privileged that they’ve revealed this to you alone?”
“Not at all,” Leah exclaims.
“Then how did you come by this information?”
“I knew how to ask the right questions of the right people?”
Eleanor glowers at her, but Leah holds firm. Her eyes shift, focus on a point just behind Tara’s shoulder. “The Archer has already spoken once. We’d best heed him this time.”
Leah nods, and Tara and Eleanor turn simultaneously. I gasp, my mouth falling open.
“Kate,” I whisper.
To the side of the platform, she stands at the foot of the steps as if she’s just fallen out of a dream and into the clearing. She is flanked by a giant who angles his body protectively toward her. He wears a blue cap, turned backward on his head, and I recognize him immediately. Kate called him Jesse. Behind them, Blaer and Fallon, shoulder to shoulder, shift on nervous feet. Blaer catches my eyes, a sparkle lighting in hers, and I simply shake my head.
They’ve done it.
“In actuality, the statutes weren’t necessary for this gathering,” I hear Leah say. “It was our leader who called the meeting.”
Leah plants her eyes on Kate who casts a wary
glance toward Jesse before she climbs to the very top step and stops—hesitant. Her dark braid snakes around her left shoulder and hangs long down her chest. I notice a new scar just above her eyebrow, raised and white in contrast to her bronzed skin. Her loose blouse is the same color as the sky behind her, and she is as beautiful as ever. She sweeps her questioning eyes over us, testing our reactions, but this is as far as she gets. Because Tara, anger defining every muscle in her body, charges. One sweep of her hand and Kate is flattened, hitting the wooden platform with a hard crack. The crowd gasps, Kate moans, and Tara straddles her, fist ready to strike.
“How dare you show your face here again!”
In that instant, Jesse leaps. His hand catches Tara’s fist in his own, and he curls his fingers over hers until she cries out in pain. With a singular motion, he drags her off of Kate and flings her over the end of the platform.
It all happens so quickly that the Council has no time to react before it’s done. Jesse, even in his anger, is fully aware of his own strength, and Tara hits the grass hard enough to knock the air out of her, but soft enough to prevent injury. Stunned, she doesn’t move for a good minute. The guards, weapons up, surround the platform, a look of unease gracing every single one of their expressions. The women murmur, shuffling excitedly. But Jesse pays them no mind. His only concern is Kate.
“You all right?” he asks, helping her to her feet.
“I’m fine,” she smiles, a hand on her throat. “I never expected a welcome homecoming.”
He keeps a hold of her hand a moment longer until she steadies. I step forward, lay my hands on the edge of the platform.
“Kate!”
Her eyes light with joy when she sees me, and she drops to her knees and hugs me close.
“Mia! Are you all right?” She takes my face in her hands, and I can’t stop smiling. “Leah told me where you’ve been, and I sent the guards to release you immediately.”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
She rises, holding out her hand. “Come on. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
My heart jumps with happiness as I grab her hand and climb the steps. Tara stands in the grass now, a look of complete uncertainty on her face as she eyes Jesse who has planted himself between her and Kate.
“Jesse,” Kate says, a hand on his forearm. “I need to speak with Tara.”
Jesse shifts, a scowl creasing his features. He lifts his blue cap, rubs at his blond curls, then replaces it. “Kate, she attacked you. You need to stay away from her.” He tosses a look of warning in Tara’s direction. “I knew this was a bad idea from the beginning.”
“She has her reasons for reacting as she did. I can’t blame her.” Her eyes plead with him. “But I need to speak with her—more than any of the other council members. She is the one I need to convince.”
“You don’t need her permission for anything.” He clenches his jaw, disapproval etched deep. “I don’t like this.”
“I’ll be fine. Just… stay close.”
Another angry glance at Tara and Jesse concedes, moving around to stand next to me on Kate’s other side. I toss a nervous glance his way. From the platform, I can see the mass of women more easily. They stretch all the way to the back of the clearing, and they gawk at the giant with disbelieving expressions. Up close, he is as huge as I remember. And frightful.
Leah steps up to me, squeezes my fingers reassuringly, and I refuse to let go.
From the top step, Kate gestures for Tara to come up, and I hold my breath. Tara hesitates; a silence falls over the crowd. Cautiously, she takes a step forward. Jesse stiffens beside me, the Council remains deathly quiet, and everyone watches as Tara climbs the stage and faces Kate.
“I am ready to take my place,” Kate begins, a new sense of confidence exuding from her. “I realize I am still very young.” She sweeps her eyes over the other council members before returning her full gaze to Tara. “But I can be taught.”
A feeling of utter respect flutters in my belly. I have always admired Kate for her tenacity, but this time, I see something else. There’s a deep calm about her that seems to make her bolder, if that’s possible. Even facing Tara, who more than once was the instrument of torture used by Mona to torment Kate, she shows no fear. She waits, and Tara purses her lips.
“I promised myself I would kill you if I ever saw you again.”
The crowd strains, listening.
“I know,” Kate acknowledges. “I expected as much. But I am less afraid to die now than I was before I left.”
Tara digests this, curious. “Why did you return?”
Kate chews on her lower lip a moment. “Because I belong here… among my people.” Her eyes scan the crowd, and she smiles. “I admit, I left because I was looking for something—someone—I didn’t think I could find here. Now I know that what I need is here, too. It’s always been here.” Her eyes rest on Tara. “And I desire for all of you to know this.”
I don’t understand her, but the words make me shiver with some unnamed sensation. She and Tara stand toe to toe for a long minute until Tara sighs and rubs at her forehead, clearly confused.
“I don’t know your meaning, but I have not changed my mind. You deserve to be punished for your actions.”
“Believe me…” Kate tilts her head with a sigh. “I have been. But I’ve also learned the power of healing and forgiveness in ways you could never imagine.”
Tara digests this in silence. After a moment, Anna Maria shuffles forward, her walking stick clicking.
“Tara. Consider this carefully,” she quietly proffers. “If this village has any chance of recovering, we need her.”
“You need her,” Tara snarls. She snaps her eyes toward the old woman. “And what of me? We can’t have two Archers on the Council. For fourteen years, I’ve dedicated my life to this duty. Do you suddenly not need me?”
“I need you,” Kate says quickly, and Tara stills.
“What?”
“I said, I need you.” Kate chances moving closer. “You were Mona’s right hand. There is no one better than you to teach me how to be a leader.”
The women gawk up at the stage as Kate and Tara face each other, and Tara’s expression floods with sudden shock.
“I—” She cuts off her words, straightens.
“Do you really think I could do this without you?” Kate asks.
Tara frowns. “The Moirai will not stand for it.”
“Well, then,” Kate smiles. “I’m not opposed to putting them to the test.”
Tara sees no humor in Kate’s words. “That is quite a risk.”
“I’m not afraid to take it.” Kate holds out her hand. “We will have two council members born under the sign of the Archer. Let’s just see if lightning strikes us dead. I have a strong feeling it won’t.”
A whistling crack, and an arrow suddenly soars over the heads of the crowd straight for the platform. We all turn, eyes to the sky, and I barely catch Jesse’s movement as he leaps from the stage and catches the arrow in midair. Astonishment ripples through the crowd and affects those of us on the stage as well. With a thud, Jesse crashes to the ground in front of the stage, the arrow in his clenched fist. The women squeal and part to get out of his way. And he’s there in one instant… and in the next, he’s gone.
I blink, and like a flash of lightning, he reappears at the back of the clearing. With one arm, he scoops the stunned Daija onto his shoulder and trudges back to the stage to deposit her and her broken bow at Kate’s feet.
“Daija!” Leah moves forward, her voice stern with reprimand. “What are you thinking?”
Daija doesn’t hear. Her frightened eyes refuse to leave Jesse’s face. She scuttles away from him on the heels of her hands until her back hits the solid base of the platform. And she cowers there, shaking like the ripples of the river.
“What did I say?” Jesse growls up at Kate. “This was a bad idea.”
With a sigh, Kate shakes her head and turns to Tara. “This is why I need yo
u. And so, if the women choose to accept me as leader, you will not be dismissed from the Council.” She licks her lips and forges on tentatively. “I know my heart; it wished for Mona’s death, even if I didn’t mean to kill her. And you don’t have to forgive me for what I’ve done, Tara. I won’t ask for it. But if we can come to terms in some way—if you will help me—perhaps we can move forward. And the Village can be a good place to live again. Better even.”
Tara doesn’t move a muscle. She stares at Kate, disbelief outlining her features. “Why would you do this for me?”
Kate shrugs. “Because it’s time for things to change. It’s time for us to ask questions.”
“Questions?”
“Yes. Why should we follow a senseless tradition that does not in any way benefit the people? Removing you from the Council would be foolish. And I do not want to begin my duty behaving like a fool. You belong here, and here you will stay.”
Something happens then. Something I never thought to see in such a hard woman. Tara inhales, and her eyes glisten with fresh tears. Seeing it, Kate smiles on a sigh. My heart leaps involuntarily. Tara casts a sidelong glance at Daija trembling against the platform before she hurriedly wipes at her eyes and rests her gaze on Kate, her hardened composure intact.
“You seem to have gained some wisdom during your absence.” She fights a sniffle with a scowl.
“I think so, yes.”
“And you truly believe you are ready to lead?”
“I am.”
Tara frowns. “I don’t like it. But your name was in the box.” Her jaw clenches once. “And so begrudgingly, I will respect this. Perhaps you can redeem yourself for your actions in some way.” A pause, and Kate nods. “As for the women...” Tara tosses her eyes over the crowd, addressing them. “Kate gives you a choice. What will it be?”
Not a single woman moves at first. They stare at Tara, waiting for a signal. And then, a beautiful thing happens. They get one.
A tiny woman near the front moves away from the throng. She raises her head, connects with Tara, and then sinks to her knees. She pins her eyes on Kate briefly and bows her head to the ground.
This one act sparks a fire, and I watch, a keen excitement rattling my spine, as one by one the other women do the same. Kate’s mouth parts slightly, her eyes growing moist. She smiles, and I watch the women. I watch them make their choice, and with joy pummeling around inside me, I see my own life in this. I see Chad, my baby…. my future. I read it in the air. Kate is home, and things are going to be different now. With tears in my eyes, I drop to the floor of the stage at her feet.
