Naomi Grim (Part 3) (The Silver Scythe Chronicles)

by Tiffany Nicole Smith

  "But why do you guys let them come here?"

  "Listen . . ."

  "Naomi."

  "Listen, Naomi. That doesn't concern you. All you need to be worried about is getting over that wall. That's it."

  Once Odessa was done reorganizing her home, she made two pallets for us to sleep on. She blew out the oil lamp, and we lay in silence.

  Even with the pillows, I was uncomfortable. I yearned to be in my own soft bed. I needed to kiss my parents good night and rest my head where it belonged. I imagined what they were doing just then. They had to be safe. I'd die if anything happened to them on account of me.

  The whole city of Litropolis seemed to turn in at the same time. I heard no more voices, no more people moving around, just the wind.

  "Naomi?" Odessa's voice sounded far away, but she was right next to me.

  "Yes?"

  "Why did you stop it?"

  I didn't answer her right away. "I don't know. It just felt right."

  Chapter 26

  When Odessa shook me awake the next morning, it was still dark out. I sat up and rubbed my eyes.

  "I have some oatmeal cooking outside. Help yourself. The Foragers are scheduled to be here in an hour. I have some errands to run. The bowls and spoons are over there." She pointed to the side of the shack. Then she left me alone.

  I crawled over to the pile of dishes and scrounged around until I found a wooden bowl and spoon. I couldn't imagine having to live this way all the time. I had only been away overnight and I missed the comforts of my own home—comforts I would never have again because I couldn't go back.

  Outside of Odessa's shack, I spotted several other Grims making breakfast outside. The oatmeal sat in a pot over some rocks. I assumed there had once been a fire there. Crouching, I scooped oatmeal into my bowl until it was full and then I crawled back inside. I wasn't a huge fan of oatmeal, but I was starving. I began to devour it without even waiting for it to cool.

  As I ate, my eyes fell on my duffle bag. Odessa must have brought it back in this morning from wherever she had hidden it. I put my bowl down and unzipped it. Mother had packed it full with several pairs of jeans, hoodies, and underwear, a black, hardcover book—my copy of the Grim Covenant, a bag of coins, and a photo of our family. I stared at it for a moment before clutching it to my chest.

  By the time I finished my breakfast, Odessa had come back, carrying something in a basket. "Did you eat enough?" she asked.

  I nodded, even though I could eat plenty more. There was only enough food left for her, and I knew she had so little.

  Odessa went out to fix herself a bowl and then came back in. We sat in silence as Odessa ate. When she was done, she grabbed the basket she had brought in. It was full of peas. She began to snap them in half and peel them. "This will be supper," she announced. I wasn't sure why. I had no plans to be there that evening. "We don't do lunch here. That's a luxury we can't afford."

  "That's fine," I said, even though it wasn't. That bowl of oatmeal was going to wear off pretty fast. "You live here alone?" I asked. Singleness was uncommon in Nowhere. Grims were to be paired off with someone. Usually, there were more females than males, and the unpaired women lived in one big home together. Parents often scrambled to get their girls paired off so they wouldn't become what Grims called "leftovers".

  She sniffed. "Yes. My husband's in Gattica."

  "Oh, I'm sorry." I was tempted to ask why, but I figured she wouldn't want to talk about it. "When was the last time you were dispatched?"

  Odessa laughed. "Dispatched? Let's see, for me it's been maybe five months."

  That was a long time. Grims in Farrington were dispatched at least every other week.

  "Yep," Odessa continued. "I have about forty-nine years left, give or take. I don't think I'll be earning many more."

  Odessa couldn't have been older than twenty-five. If she didn't earn anymore years, she would die when she was seventy-five, very early for a Grim. She looked at me from the corner of her eye. "How about you?"

  I felt ashamed. "Four hundred and something. Odessa, why did you help me?"

  "I don't know. I saw a scared girl running for her life. Call me a big softy." I knew the feeling.

  A sharp whistle pierced the air. Odessa looked at me wide-eyed. "They're coming over."

  We crawled out of the shack. About twenty feet down along the wall, I spotted five Forager men scaling down the wall. They were dirty and unkempt like all Foragers, but they were fit and muscular.

  One of them, a tall one with brown curly hair and light brown eyes ran and scooped Odessa up in his arms. He spun her around and then placed her back on the ground. The other men had gone off. After a few moments, Odessa remembered I was standing there. "Oh, Nigel, this is Naomi."

  Nigel frowned at me. "What are you doing here?"

  "They're looking for her. Nigel, she'll die if she stays here. Will you take her back over with you?"

  Nigel looked from me to Odessa then back to me again. I could tell it was hard for him to tell her no. He shrugged. "I don't care, but I have to see what the other guys say first." Odessa nodded and Nigel went off, probably to where the other men were.

  Odessa and I went back inside her shack, where she continued to snap peas. "Don't judge me," she said as I joined her by the bowl.

  "I'm not."

  "I love Navy, I do, but he's in Gattica. He's never coming back."

  "I understand," I muttered.

  "Besides, Nigel is the one I'm in love with. There's a difference, you know."

  "A difference?"

  "Yes, you grow fond of your betrothed, but that doesn't mean they're your soul mate. Nigel is hands down my soul mate, but he's a Forager, so we can never be."

  I thought about Keira and Bram. "Do they ever get caught here? The Foragers?"

  Odessa shook her head. "Do you see any Watchers here? They don't care what we do as long as we stay on our side of the wall, which is fine. It works out better for us."

  I wanted to ask again what they were doing here, but I knew Odessa would never tell me. A couple of hours passed. Odessa and I had snapped the peas, washed the morning dishes, and entertained three gossiping women. I worried the women might tell that Odessa was hiding me, but she assured me that Grims in Litropolis didn't snitch. I was beginning to wonder if the Foragers had gone back without taking me.

  Then Nigel stuck his head inside the shack and my fear subsided. "The guys said okay."

  I breathed a sigh of relief and grabbed my duffle bag. Odessa and I crawled out of the shack. I turned to her. "Thank you for everything." I was truly grateful. She had saved my life. No one else had helped me. It was also because of her that I was getting over the wall.

  Odessa nodded. "No problem. Take care of yourself and good luck." She and Nigel shared another kiss and then we made our way to where the rope hung.

  Three men were already scaling it. They made it look easy. I hadn't thought about the fact that I would have to actually climb. I didn't think I could do it.

  Nigel must have read my mind. He took my duffle bag from me and put it over his shoulder. "It's okay. Hand over hand. Foot over foot. Just like you're walking, except you're walking upward." It sounded easy when he put it like that.

  "Listen, kid," said the Forager waiting behind Nigel. "We'll get you over this wall, but then you're on your own."

  "Moore, come on, man," Nigel said. "All right. Go ahead and take the rope. Put your feet on the wall and I'll hoist you up."

  I did as I was told and discovered that I didn't have much upper body strength. Thankfully, Nigel was beneath me to help boost me along. I moved hand over hand and foot over foot as instructed. Surprisingly, I moved up the wall. When I got to the middle of the wall, I made the mistake of looking down.

  "Keep going," Nigel urged me, so I did.

  I had gotten to the top of the wall when I made the horrible realization that going down was going to be much worse than climbing up. I sat on top of the wall. "I can't. I can't
go down." I looked down at Nigel, who was still on the rope, waiting for me to continue.

  "Naomi, what are you going to do? Sit there for the rest of your life?" I nodded. "See, that wouldn’t be such a problem if Moore and I weren't stuck behind you, but we are."

  "Listen," called Moore's rough voice. "You can either climb down, or you can jump and hope that one of the other guys catches you."

  "Shut up!" Nigel yelled at him, but Moore was right. They were helping me out, and I was slowing down the process. "It's okay," Nigel said gently, and I could understand why Odessa loved him. "Just swing your legs over and roll on your belly. Put your feet against the wall, grab the rope. You can do this, Naomi. Hand under hand and foot under foot this time."

  I followed his instructions. My heart skipped a few beats when my feet slid. Thankfully my right foot was stopped by a crack in the wall. It became easier than I thought. I didn't look down and I kept thinking "hand under hand and foot under foot." When I felt I was close enough to the ground, I let myself drop.

  The other three men waiting there nodded at me politely. My duffle bag dropped by my feet. I'd forgotten about that. It was sweet of Nigel to carry it for me.

  I put my duffle bag around my shoulders. "Thanks for your help," I said, particularly to Nigel. I turned to be on my way.

  "Where are you going?" one of the men asked.

  "I don't know." The plan was to just walk and see what happened.

  "Get over here," Nigel said, waving me over. The men began to walk and I followed.

  We walked for what seemed like an hour. I wanted to stop and remove my hoodie. It wasn't cool outside the wall like it was in Nowhere. The humidity caused my clothing to stick to my body, but I couldn't stop. I didn't want to slow them down.

  The men kept walking like it was nothing. From time to time Nigel would look back and ask if I was okay and then Moore would shoot me a dirty look. Nigel took the duffle bag from my shoulder. I was tempted to grab it back, to prove that I didn't need his help, but the relief felt so good, I decided against it.

  "Everything's looking good," said one man whose name was Eris.

  "Yep. I think we're ready," said another. I hadn't caught his name.

  "Shhh," Moore hissed, pointing his thumb in my direction.

  "It doesn't matter," Nigel said. "She's not going back there."

  Moore glared at Nigel. "So she says. For all we know, Dunningham could have gotten a whiff of this and she could be a spy. He'd be smart to do that—send a little girl who people would take pity on." I didn't appreciate him speaking of me that way.

  "I'm not a spy or a little girl, and Dunningham doesn't work that like. If he knew about whatever you were talking about he wouldn't go through all the trouble of sending a spy. He'd just have you killed."

  "She has a point there," Eris said. "Moore, you are the most paranoid man I know. Relax, man."

  "I'll relax when this is all over," Moore grumbled.

  I stopped walking. "Please . . . I really need to stop just for a minute." I had been trying desperately to endure, but I couldn't any more.

  "Okay," said one of the men.

  "See—" Moore began, but Nigel held up his hand and he stopped.

  I sat on my duffle bag. Eris knelt next to me. "Sorry, we don't have any water to give you. We've been going through a drought."

  "Oh. Sorry to hear that."

  The men sat on the ground around me. Moore frowned. "Are you really? Do you even know what a drought is?"

  "Moore, knock it off," Eris said. "What I'd like to know is why you're running. It has to be pretty bad for you to want to leave paradise to come live among the rats."

  I looked at each of the men, wondering what they would think of me. "I prevented deaths on my assignment. It was a big one."

  "Oh, you were the one who cost us those lifestones. We needed those," Moore carped.

  I looked at the ground and waited for them to throw me back over the wall. I wouldn't blame them.

  The other men were silent for a minute. "That's respectable," said the man named Port.

  "It is? I went against the Grim Covenant."

  "Yeah," said Nigel. "To save human lives. Human blood runs through our veins."

  Yes, it did. Dunstan's descendants were the product of his relationship with a human woman.

  "We did need those lifestones, though," Nigel added.

  "Why'd you do it?" Moore asked. "Why'd you give up the cushy life to save humans? Real Grims don't care about them."

  "I don't know." I really didn't know. "I just felt like I had to do it. I didn't think those kids deserved to die and if I could stop it from occurring, why not?"

  The men nodded, and I wanted to change the subject.

  "Now tell me what you guys were doing in Litropolis. Why do you go there every other day?"

  The men looked at each other. "It's nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about," Port replied. "Trust us. It'll be better for you not to know."

  We sat a few minutes longer and then we were on our way again. I couldn't believe they made this trek every other day. At long last, we came to a large cluster of cottages. I was amazed. The place looked better than Litropolis. I had expected it to look much worse.

  There were copper-brown rooftops for as far as I could see. The cottages were beige with rounded doors and windows. There weren't many people in sight. A few men were going about their chores, carrying pails and lumber. I spotted two carrying an elderly man on a plank of wood.

  The men who had brought me from Litropolis split off into separate directions. I stood there feeling lost. Nigel turned to me. "Come." I followed.

  We walked through a lane of small cottages. They almost reminded me of gingerbread houses from children's books. Nigel stopped and knocked on one on of the doors. The door opened after a few seconds. Nigel motioned for me to go inside.

  Skeptically I stepped inside. A woman with a mane of gray curly hair raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Who's this?" she asked Nigel as he came in behind me.

  "This is Naomi. She needs some help. I thought maybe she could stay with us for a while."

  The woman frowned. "Nigel, are you crazy? She can't stay here."

  "Oh, come on, Mother. She's just a girl."

  I was sick of people talking about me as if I wasn't there.

  "I'll leave if this is going to be a problem," I said, turning for the door.

  Nigel put his hand on my shoulder. "No."

  His mother stepped closer to me, examining every inch of my face. "You're from Farrington. What are you doing here? What kind of trouble are you in?"

  "I defied the Grim Covenant," I mumbled, wondering how many more times I'd have to repeat my offense.

  "By?" the woman pressed.

  "I prevented deaths from happening. Many deaths."

  The woman whistled. "You pretty much sentenced yourself to death, didn't you?"

  I shrugged, and she continued to stare at me. "Fine, you can stay for a few days. That's it."

  "Thank you," I said, placing my duffle bag on the floor of their cottage.

  "Have a seat there," the woman said, pointing to a small round table. "I'll get you some tea."

  I sat at the table, happy to finally be off my feet. My feet were hot in my leather boots. I surveyed the cottage— small, but warm and cozy. On one side of the room were three pallets where I assumed Nigel, his mother, and someone else—maybe her husband— slept. A pot-bellied stove sat in the corner. A cupboard and several covered buckets made up the kitchen. Nigel plopped down on one of the pallets as his mother started on the tea. I watched her shakily pour water from a pitcher into a small pot. I felt bad, remembering the men had mentioned a drought.

  "My name is Merna, by the way."

  "Oh," I answered because I didn't know what else to say.

  Merna sat at the table with me while the tea boiled. She rubbed the sweat off her forehead. It was very warm here. I longed for the coolness of Farrington. "So, what's your plan?"
she asked me.

  I had no plan. "I guess to stay as far away from Dunningham as I possibly can for as long as I can."

  Merna nodded. "I know most Grims will not think so, but it was a very admirable thing you did."

  "Thank you."

  Just then the door flew open. A boy, maybe seventeen or eighteen, came in and dropped a pile of wood on the ground. "Hey, Nigel, how'd it go?"

  "Fine," Nigel muttered. He sounded half-asleep.

  "Good. Next time—" He paused and closed the door as his eyes fell on me. "Who's this?"

  "Naomi," Nigel answered.

  "What is she doing here?"

  "Colden—" Merna began.

  "What are you doing here?" Colden demanded. Colden was a younger, more handsome version of Nigel with curly dark hair and noticeable golden highlights.

  "I'm just passing through. They're looking for me, and I'm in hiding, that's all."

  Nigel told Colden my story and Colden turned and glared at me. "You know Dunningham will find you. Somehow, someway, he will. He'll come here with his men and see that we're harboring you and destroy our entire village. You can't stay here."

  Chapter 27

  "It's just for a few days," Merna said.

  "No. For all we know Dunningham could be on her scent right now. She has to leave," Colden replied.

  Merna went to the stove to cater to the tea.

  "And you're making her tea, from our limited water supply. Come on!"

  "Colden!" Merna snapped. "Enough! This is my home and I'll do as I please. I say she stays, and that's final."

  Colden scowled at me and then bolted from the cottage, slamming the door behind him.

  I drank the tea, which tasted like chamomile and made me sleepy. Merna offered me her pallet to take a nap. Because I was struggling to keep my eyes opened and exhausted from the walk, I took her up on her offer. I nuzzled my face into her soft pillow and covered myself with the blanket. I thought about home and my family. I wondered what Mother was doing at that moment. She was probably the most worried about me.

  "You'll have to excuse my brother," Nigel said. "He's an arrogant ass."