Recurve

by Shannon Mayer

  I turned to her, giving her a light shake. “Fern. Cassava thinks you are too weak to survive. She won’t look for you in the human world, which makes it the only chance you have. The forest is too dangerous for you right now, you know that.”

  Her back slowly stiffened and she gave me a slight nod. “You’re right. I have to be strong enough for both of us. You’ll come back for me when you’ve made it safe?”

  Well damn, it looked like Fern had done some maturing. And then her words hit me. She expected me to fix whatever problems there were with Cassava. “I’ll do my best, but it will probably be my father who makes things better. He has to deal with his batshit crazy wife.”

  Fern gave me a smile and then wrapped her arms around me tight. “You’re going to be the best step-daughter ever.”

  “Ack, let me go.” I wanted to shove her away and would have if she hadn’t been in her particular condition.

  Now came the tricky part. While we’d both been educated on the human world, the history of it, where they were at with their technology, actually stepping into their world was entirely different. How to deal with humans was all good in theory. Putting it in practice, I wasn’t so sure.

  “Have you ever been out of the forest?” Fern asked.

  I shook my head. “No. Have you?”

  She shook her head. “I remember the books from school, about the humans, but I never wanted to go. I’m ashamed to say I didn’t pay much attention.”

  And really, I hadn’t, either. I took a deep breath and let it slowly out. This was not how Enders traveled when they had a Hunt. That much I was sure, but we didn’t have a choice left to us. “I think we can do something called ‘hitched’ hiking.” Taking her hand, we walked to the side of the black ground. It was fully dark now, and the vehicles were lit up like owls, their lights giant glowing orbs that aimed at our midsections as they whooshed by us. Each time a car passed, Fern clutched me to her.

  The real problem though was I didn’t really know how to make one of the cars carrying humans, stop.

  “Do you think the painted lines in the middle are important? Maybe we should stand on them.” Fern asked, pointing to the middle of the road.

  I shrugged, not recalling anything from my lack luster human history lessons that would help. “Worth a try.”

  Watching the cars zip by, I waited until there was no great glowing orbs coming our way, then led Fern to the middle where the lines were. “When one of the cars gets close, wave at it,” I instructed, recalling that the hitched hiking required you to signal the drivers of the vehicles so they knew you wanted their attention.

  The first set of lights curled around a bend in the road and the sound reverberated in my chest. “Lark, that one is far bigger than the others.”

  I grit my teeth. Bigger was an understatement. It was ten times the size of the others, and the lights were lit all over it. Like a squat mountain on fire, it hurtled toward us. But humans did this hitched hiking all the time, so it couldn’t be dangerous. Fern squealed and clung to me as the lights hit us, blinding us completely.

  “Wave at it!” I yelled and I assumed she did because the vehicle let out a powerful roar and then something that sounded like a monstrous goose. If a goose could be the size of an elephant. The screeching of metal on metal, the goose honking and the blinding lights, the ground bucking underneath us with the impact of a massive weight slamming into it, and we just stood there, waving our arms as the world went to hell around us. I held my breath hoping I hadn’t made a mistake and just killed us both.

  The silence was what made me open my eyes, my arms still over my head. The oversized vehicle was on its side, inches from our faces, and vehicles were stopping all around us, humans getting out of them as they rushed to the aid of the driver of the big vehicle.

  I pulled Fern to the side of the road, nodding. “Well, that worked well.”

  She turned her eyes up at me. “Now what?”

  I did a quick scan of the people who’d stopped their vehicles, spotting one that had flowers painted in a variety of colors on the side. It seemed a good omen. “That one.” I dragged her with me, through the growing crowd.

  The people in the car saw us coming and rolled down their windows. A haze of smoke rolled out and I recognized the smell. I wrinkled up my nose. “Fern, they smoke the funk weed.”

  She shrugged her shoulder peeking out from the collar of my t-shirt. “That’s okay, my uncle grows it for the healers.”

  “Hey, two groovy babes.” A human man stuck his head out, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. “Need a ride?”

  “Yes, my friend does. Can you take her to the next closest city?”

  Fern clutched at me. “You aren’t coming with me?”

  “I have to go back, you’ll be missing and if they figure out I’ve helped you we’re both sunk,” I growled at her. The human was bobbing his head.

  “Yeah, no problemo. We’ll take her to Eureka.”

  I shoved my bag into Fern’s hands, lowering my voice for her ears only. “There’s human money in here. Find a place to stay on the outskirts of town, close to nature. Don’t show the money to anyone and bargain wherever you can. It should be enough for a few weeks. If it takes longer than that, I’ll come get you.” I didn’t know how the hell I was going to manage, but the fear in Fern’s eyes was enough to make me promise her something.

  “How will you find me?” she asked as she slid into the boxy car.

  I gave her a grin. “I’m an Ender, that’s what we do.”

  She smiled in return. “Be careful, Lark. Please be careful.”

  The sound of a high pitched whistle, like that of distant screaming tornado was drawing close, and with it flashing lights of red and blue. “I will. And you too, Fern.”

  The car started up and I saw Fern’s eyes widen as they pulled away from the scene. I slipped back into the forest, leaving behind me the human’s highway.

  Now I just had to figure out how to keep Fern safe, and prove that Cassava was a murdering bitch.

  No problemo, as the human had said.

  Right.

  Chapter 13

  The disappearance of Fern went relatively unnoticed. Most people thought she ran away in disgrace when my father refused to marry her—a rumor I started—and it seemed to be working in our favor. I’d mentioned it to one of the Edge guards in passing; they were all as gossipy as Coal.

  As far as I knew, Granite hadn’t noticed the missing money, either. Of course, why would anyone steal human money? We didn’t use anything of the sort here, and it would only be good for starting a fire.

  Three days after Fern “ran away,” it was my turn to spar with Granite, one-on-one and no audience. He used his abilities with the earth, and I was to try and use only my weapons. Like I had any choice. I still couldn’t reach that spinning green orb of power I could so easily see if I closed my eyes. No, the pain dropped me every time, and yes, I tried regularly enough to know.

  The upside of not having my own power was the more I looked for the telltale sign that Granite was tapping into the earth, the easier it got for me not only to see the sign, but pinpoint what he was going to do. Like when the green glow deepened, I knew he was going to shake the earth, and when it brightened and danced, rocks flew hard and fast. So while I couldn’t fight him in some ways, I could outthink him, and dodge what he sent my way.

  “Damn it, how are you doing this?” Granite growled, wiping off a spot of blood where I’d caught a rock on the shaft of my spear like a baseball and fired it back at him.

  “I think I’ll keep that secret to myself.” I smiled and offered him a hand up. He shooed me away.

  “I’m not so feeble I can’t get to my feet on my own.” He stood, wobbled, and I put a hand on his shoulder.

  “Sure about that?”

  “Bah, see how steady you are after you get a rock smashed into your brain cup.”

  Smiling, I crinkled up my nose. “Brain cup?”

  He waved
me off again. “Go get something to eat. We’ll go again in an hour.”

  With a twist, I split my spear in two, the halves easily carried on the belt at my side, blade pointing down. The spear hung as if it were a part of my body, never getting in my way as I moved and fought, yet always right there when I needed it. I wrapped my fingers around the two pieces, wondering how often my mother had worked with the weapon. Of course, her spear was back in my room, waiting for me to become proficient enough to use it.

  Granite, seemed to read my mind. “She wasn’t as good as you are with it. She didn’t want to hurt anyone, so she hesitated; it made her vulnerable to being attacked.”

  His eyes met mine and I thought maybe he was going to say something. Maybe he knew something more since the last time we’d spoken about my mother. The tension between us rose, questions unanswered, fears hidden in the dark coming to light.

  I opened my mouth to ask him, to demand he tell me what he knew. “Granite, my mother—”

  Three Enders ran in, carrying one of their—our—own. The face was pale, but I recognized Oakley bouncing along in their arms. “What happened?” Granite barked, running to them.

  Oakley coughed twice, blood burbling out of his mouth. “On a job in the east.” As if that somehow explained things. The Enders shared a glance that swept over me. Apparently, I wasn’t supposed to know about whatever it was Oakley had been doing.

  I moved to help them and Granite put an arm out, stopping me.

  “Don’t come any closer, Lark.” His face paled, almost to that of Oakley’s color.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Lung burrowers.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath. “Already?”

  Granite’s eyes shot to mine, narrowed. “You see too much. But yes, the eastern front is being overwhelmed with them. At the rate they’re being pushed, it won’t be long before they’re here, a day or two at the most.”

  They swept Oakley to the healers’ rooms, leaving me standing in the middle of the training ground. My father had gone to the eastern front.

  A cold chill of premonition curled around me. If something happened to him, the one left ruling would be Cassava, with no one to rein her in.

  The thought had no more hit the front of my brain and I bolted for the doors, running to the Spiral. The doors were locked shut, a bar across them. Snap, one of the queen’s personal Ender’s stood to one side.

  “You aren’t allowed in, Cuckoo.”

  “Shut your hole, Snapdragon,” I barked at him and his eyes widened in surprised. I pushed into his space. “Is my father back?”

  He tried to push me back, but I held my ground. A snarl curled over his lips. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

  I wanted to grab him and shake him ‘til the truth fell from his stupid face. I backed off a few steps, and glared at him, unable to think what I could do. My father was strong, but even he could fall to a disease. I snapped my fingers and bolted off to the north, running through the forest. Coal would know, he always knew the rumors before they reached the center.

  The northern edge of the Rim was always quiet with the mountains ranging ahead. I found Coal asleep, an arm flung over his eyes.

  “Edge Guard,” I snapped at him, using his proper title. He propelled himself up, his eyes blurry.

  “Damn, Lark. You scared the life out of me!” He gave me a grin that slipped off as his eyes focused on me. “What’s wrong?”

  Breathless from the fear coursing through me, more than the run, I finally got the words out. “Do you know if my father is back from the eastern front?”

  Coal shook his head. “No, he’s still there. The last guard change came with news, the eastern edge is having problems with the trees dying still.”

  Closing my eyes, I breathed in the air and tried to still my mind. Who could help me? “Be careful, Coal”—I turned my back on him—“promise me that. It isn’t just a disease, it’s the lung burrowers.”

  “Hey, aren’t you going to stay and keep me company?”

  I dared a glance over my shoulder to see him beckoning me back, his eyes full of heat. A surge of answering desire whispered over my body, giving me a shudder of unease. The last thing on my mind was sex, so why the desire?

  Forcing myself to step closer to him, to test my theory, shock faded to need, the heady thrum of blood rushing through my body heightened. He moved toward me and I swayed. I kept myself from touching him. “Coal, something is wrong.” His green eyes, they had that same pink tinge that I’d seen in Mal’s eyes when he’d made a move on me.

  “Nothing has ever felt so right,” he whispered, catching my hand in his, and then his lips were pressed against my own, that strange haze flowing over me. The comfort of his love, the familiarity of his touch, the smell of his skin—they sucked me under. We were there, cocooned in that feeling for what seemed like hours, not doing anything but touching, holding, kissing. No sex, just together.

  Like we were under some kind of spell.

  I jerked backward, the light around us having shifted enough that it was easy to see the hours that had gone by. My stomach growled, loudly, and I put a hand to it. I was starving and so thirsty. I reached down and scooped up Coal’s kit of food and water. The food was rancid, mold growing on it. The water, though stale, was clean and clear, and I gulped it down, the raggedness of my mouth and throat grateful.

  Hours, it wasn’t hours I’d stood there with him but days.

  “Shit on a green stick,” I gasped out and really looked at Coal. Like I was trying to see him use his abilities. That faint pink glow hovered in the whites of his eyes. I never would have seen it if I hadn’t drawn so close. I stepped back, easy to break away now that I knew what was happening. Days—days had been wasted here.

  Frowning, I continued to back away.

  “Lark, please don’t go.”

  That clinched it. “You never ask me to stay with you, Coal. Not in all our time together.”

  He tipped his head and the pink faded from his eyes. “What? I didn’t ask you to stay.”

  Anxiety began to heat in the bottom of my belly. “No, of course not,” I said and turned away from him. I put a hand to my head; was I going crazy? Seeing pink glowing eyes, and feeling things I shouldn’t be feeling, hearing words Coal would never say . . . .

  I trudged back to the barracks, my body exhausted and unable to give me more than a clipped walk. I slipped into the barracks through the back door. There was no one waiting for me, no one to ask me where I’d been.

  A cold rush of air circled up and around my legs. A faint hint of herbs and sour sickness crept along with the air and I followed it down to the healers’ rooms. I’d only been in the room once, when I’d first started my training, to be sure there was nothing seriously wrong with me.

  Then, the room had been large and spacious, the skylights letting in plenty of natural light to brighten the room. The beds had all been empty, the room rarely used. Bottles and jars of herbs and healing ointments, a couple of curatives from the Pit had been lined up along the walls then. Everything in order.

  Now, every bed was taken with an Ender, and the recruits were using the floor. Jars and herbs were scattered, blood on the sheets, wriggling worms weaving their trail of death down the bodies.

  The healer, Orchid, saw me, gasped, and ran to my side. “If you aren’t sick, leave, now. Ender Ash is the only other one not showing symptoms.”

  I pushed against her hands. “Is my father sick? Raven?”

  The sorrow in her eyes was all I needed. “Yes. Everyone except the queen, and Ash. And now you.”

  Chills swept through me, followed closely by a rush of heat. “Why am I not surprised?”

  A rattling cough drew my eyes to the wall on my left. Granite sat in the bed, but only just barely. His shoulders slumped forward, as if he was no longer able to hold his own head up. I moved as if to go to him and he held a hand up, stopping me.

  “Don’t come any closer. I’ll be okay, go hel
p Ash. Tell him I ordered you to go with him.” He held out a piece of paper to the healer, as another cough rattled through his chest, shaking his entire body with the aggressiveness of it. A ripple of pain passed over his face. Gingerly, I stepped forward and took the paper from the healer, then quickly stepped away, putting space between the disease and me as much as I could.

  I looked at the bed next to him, Oakley laying there, barely breathing. The burrowers were there, just under his skin, breeding, and then their spores were coughed out into the air ready to dig into another set of lungs.

  I nodded and backed out of the doorway, wondering if even with that small interaction I’d breathed in a lung burrower. I clamped my lips shut and held my breath as I ran back the way I’d come, gulping for air only once I was at the end of the hall. My legs were wobbly, a reminder that I’d been trapped in some sort of spell with no water or food for three days. I didn’t have time though to stop and eat, or rest—none of us did.

  My hand tightened the crinkle of paper reminding me. I opened it, my fingers tingling as I read the words.

  Go to the Pit. The healers there will help. And beware of Ash. Cassava owns him.

  Cassava owned Ash? Worm shit, I was right about that then. And it explained why he hated me so. I had to find him, and quickly. I made my way, my hand against the wall for balance, down to the lowest level of the barracks. There was only one place he could be if he was going to go for help.

  The Traveling room.

  I knew about the place only from the training, and I hadn’t seen it yet. It had taken all four families to create, and it was a powerful tool. A way to traverse the world, and allow us access to the other families without having to deal with the humans disgusting, loud, filthy vehicles. The stairs that took me to the lowest level of the barracks were lit with torchlight, a good indicator that Ash was already in the Traveling Room. I made myself hurry, stumbling over the last few steps and crashing through the doorway.

  Ash was still there, just grabbing something from the chest in the middle of the room. He was, of course, wearing his Ender leathers. But he’d added a long cloak that swirled between brown and green. The material fell to the floor in thick layers and was far too heavy for the warmth of summer. I couldn’t help but wonder what it was for. But I didn’t ask, knowing I was going to have to push him to take me along. I didn’t want to waste my breath on petty things like, “why are you wearing a winter cloak?”