Breeder: An Arrow's Flight Novel

by Casey Hays

  Other breeders are in the Pit making it alive with activity. Some wait to be let into assigned caves. I see two climbing the ladder. They disappear over the edge. Several mates sit close to their gates taking in the sun. They stare at us with blank expressions as we pass them.

  The jailer stops to let a breeder out of one cave. Her name is Joy. She waves at us as she hurries past toward the ladder.

  “What is wrong with you, Kate?” Mia finally says. Her voice is low, but I hear irritation in it.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Back at the cave,” she blurts in full exasperation now. “Introducing me to your mate, as if he could possibly comprehend it.”

  I purse my lips, hesitating for a minute as my fear of her rejection consumes me. I don’t want Mia to side against me—ever. I need her. But I also realize I’m tired of us pretending as if the stock are not of any value. They are of some value, after all. Without them, the Village would die. I suddenly feel bold.

  “He does comprehend. He’s not stupid.”

  Mia stops walking and faces me, hands on her hips. “Dogs are not meant for socializing. It’s . . . unnatural.” Suddenly, her eyes darken. She tilts her head to one side and reaches up to turn my face. “What happened to your cheek?”

  Uh-oh.

  I pull away and begin walking again. “I fell.”

  “In there?”

  I walk faster.

  “It wasn’t like that when we arrived,” Mia continues. “And that doesn’t look like you fell to me.”

  I keep walking. “I fell,” I repeat. “You can believe me or not, but that’s what happened.”

  “Fine. Whatever you say.”

  I swallow. I’ve never lied to Mia. But Ian didn’t mean to hurt me, and I’ve handled it already. There is no reason to discuss it anymore.

  We reach the ladder, and I start to hoist myself onto the first rung.

  “Wait.” Mia loosens a small leather strap tied to the fifth step. She stuffs it into her pouch.

  “What’s that?”

  “What?”

  “That piece of leather you just took. What is it?”

  “It’s the marker,” she answers, confused. “Didn’t you put one there when we came?”

  “No.” I’ve never heard of the “marker” until now. “What’s it for?”

  Mia looks surprised. “You tie a strap to the rung. That way, when you come back, you know whether to leave the ladder down, or pull it up. Didn’t the Council tell you?”

  “They didn’t.”

  I frown, mulling over the times I’ve been to the Pit. Until now, I was either forced or ordered to come. Or it was in the middle of night, and the Pit was empty. There was no need to leave a marker.

  I examine the ladder again. Three of its rungs are filled will leather straps. So the ladder stays.

  “It’s good that you came with me today, Kate. You might have been trapped down here.” Her voice rings with disgust. She steps up onto the ladder and scurries to the top. I watch her disappear over the ledge, and then, I smile.

  One problem solved. I know how to get Ian out of the Pit. Getting him out of the cave, however, is another matter entirely.

  >--->

  Diana’s baby is a girl. She has the same blonde curls and blue eyes that characterized the first baby. The difference is she’ll get to live. I sit across from Diana’s mat, cradling the tiny baby in my arms. She whimpers softly and nuzzles close to my chest.

  “She’s so pretty, Diana.” I peer down at the soft, pink skin, trace a finger across the baby’s cheek. “I think Tabitha is a beautiful name. That’s exactly what she looks like.” I lean in and kiss her tiny head. “Isn’t that right, Tabitha?”

  We both know, of course, that Tabitha won’t receive her true name until she’s handed over to the nursery. Then, the Council will select a name themselves, Tabitha will disappear into anonymity, and Diana will never be able to distinguish her from any other girl thirteen years from now. It is the way, and it will always be the way.

  Diana smiles and leans over to brush her fingers through the blonde curls. “She is so beautiful. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I don’t think I can live a minute without her, ever.”

  I read something in her tone. Cautiously I say, “And you won’t have to, for at least a year. She won’t be weaned before then.”

  Diana reaches for the baby, pulling her in close. She tilts her head, letting a finger hover over the child’s chest. Tabitha’s tiny hand grabs hold of it and clamps down. Diana smiles again.

  “I’m not speaking about a year, Kate.”

  Her gaze is calm and steady, and something deep inside her stares at me. Determination. It is a beast with no end, and it nestles in the seat of her heart. It breathes life into a cause which seems to raise its head and prompt Diana into a dangerous scheme.

  “What are you saying?” I ask tentatively.

  “Tabitha can’t go to the nursery.” Her statement is simple and straightforward. “She will never become what I am.”

  In my mind, I’m carried back to my childhood—back to long, lazy, carefree days. For a time, we had no real ideas of what was in store for us as adults. None of us had yet wielded a sword or shot our first rabbit with a bow. We hadn’t cooked a meal, nursed someone back to health, given birth. Life was sweet and simple. I knew I would one day be a breeder, but I didn’t know all that it meant—only that it was an honor to receive such a position. Until our lessons moved into specifics, our duties clearly defined, I only gave fleeting thoughts to what the Archer had in store for me. But if I knew when I was in the nursery what I know now about my life—if I had merely an inkling of an idea—I might have fought harder. The nursery doesn’t care about what is best for each individual. It’s only concerned with the greater good. Preserving the whole, not the parts. Training children to fall into a chosen role.

  I think of the woman who brought me the books. She knew what I would face, and yet, she did not fight for me. Perhaps she was my mother, as Ian suggested, but to my knowledge, she never considered to do for me what Diana now proposes for the tiny baby in her arms. But how will she accomplish it? She can’t possibly hide Tabitha away forever. The Council knows the baby exists. My heart softens with a sadness because Diana knows this, too. She is only speaking brave, empty words.

  “There are other duties,” I say quietly. “She may not become a breeder. Maybe she’ll be a hunter or a fisher. Maybe she’ll be a jailer.” I laugh at Diana’s raised eyes. I wouldn’t wish that duty on anybody’s baby.

  Diana doesn’t find the humor in it. She studies her baby closely. “Look at her, Kate. She’s going to be a breeder. There’s no doubt.”

  I sigh. Tabitha is absolutely breathtaking. But there is no way to avoid the nursery. And what would Diana do? Raise the child herself? It’s never been done. Would she even know how? No, Diana will have to give Tabitha over one day. The Council will demand it. And if she does not, they will take the baby anyway.

  “You know,” I reach out and lay my hand on Diana’s arm. “Someone told me once that after the first time, it’s not so bad. Now who was that? Oh, wait a minute . . . it’s coming. It was . . . Oh, yes. It was you!”

  I raise my eyebrows and point a finger playfully at Diana, who shakes her head, rolling her eyes.

  “I have to say that something very good came out of that for you.” I glance at Tabitha. “So see, breeding is not so bad. Not when this is the end result. It will be the same for her.”

  Diana tears her eyes away from her baby.

  “Do you really believe yourself, Kate? Or are you saying this only for my benefit? How was it after your first time?” Her eyes are playful. “Oh wait, wait . . . there hasn’t been a first time quite yet, now has there?”

  Before I have a chance to wipe the shock from my face and pretend I have no idea what she means, Diana laughs. I shake my head in resignation and frown.

  “Mia told you.”

  It’s not a question. D
iana tilts her head, and her eyes crinkle with amusement.

  “So tell me, then,” she continues. “How can you sit here and say all these things about my baby when you don’t even accept them for yourself?”

  A kind of shame invades me, and I lower my eyes because it’s true. If Tabitha were my child, I would fight with all my strength to ensure that she never bent to the stars. If it meant leaving the Village, or dying even, I wouldn’t flinch. I would never allow her to be subjected to the unfair demands of Fate.

  And I would never want her to disappear behind the walls of the nursery where children fade into oblivion and become merely citizens of the Village with no ties to the women who brought them into this world. The practice is evident. We have no mothers because the Council wills it. Loyalty of a mother toward her child would undermine loyalty to the Village. And I see it now etched in Diana’s eyes. Such loyalty is dangerous.

  “I only wanted to protect you,” I say. “I’m treading dangerous water in my own rebellion, and I would hate to see you there with me.”

  “Oh, Kate,” Diana sighs, shaking her head. “I would gladly join your rebellion. You are the rebel breeder.” I raise my head, startled, and she laughs. “That’s what they call you, anyway—which makes no sense, because you’ve never mated.”

  I swallow. How many people has Mia told? Does the Council know? Mona? I panic for a moment before I realize I’m being unreasonable. Mona couldn’t know. She would have approached me by now.

  “I’m proud of you for taking a stand, Kate,” Diana continues. “True, not everyone knows you have, but those of us who do? You’ve inspired us.” Diana smiles. “They forced you into the Pit, expecting you to play your part, and you have. Just not the part they scripted. You were made for something else.”

  I don’t know what to say. I stare numbly, dumbfounded by her words.

  “And what you tried to do for Layla?” she continues, and her expression lights with a sense of pride. “It has not gone unnoticed. The women see a kind of hope in you, Kate.”

  I had no idea. Diana’s eyes bore into me like an unquenchable fire, burning with the promise of a new and different world—a world where her child can grow into the woman she is supposed to be without Fate’s interference. I see it in her eyes: She will fight with me if it comes to that. She glances at the child sleeping in her arms.

  “I cannot erase time for myself. It’s too late. But I can change her Fate.” Her eyes harden, a sharp contrast to the gentle way she caresses the baby. “She will not go to the nursery.”

  Something in my heart quickens. Diana’s face is lined with resolve, her words deliberate. She is going to do this. She is going to defy the Council.

  And for the first time since I was forced to the Pit, I don’t feel alone. If what Diana says is true, there are others like us. Maybe we can change this place after all. No more senseless dying. No more deadly rules. No more Fate. We could choose our own destinies.

  I am the rebel breeder! My chest thuds at the prospect—whether it’s from fear or excitement, I cannot tell.

  Rebel Breeder. Could it be true? Has my rebellious heart triggered a fire in others?

  I shake my head. I’m jumping to conclusions—delusional with the idea of one day never having to set foot in the Pit again. Still, Diana has awakened something in me: a tiny fire sparked by a mother’s determined love. Mother, not breeder.

  It’s a hope that could kill us, but it might just be strong enough to save us instead.

  >--->

  Mona is waiting for me when I return from Diana’s hogan. I know the moment I see her something is wrong. And I know what the “something” is the moment she grabs my jaw and twists my head to the side. My cheek has turned from a swollen redness to a purplish bruise. With an angry sigh, she releases me and steps back.

  “Who did this to you, Kate?”

  Her voice bounces back at me from the walls of my hogan, loud and demanding, and the room seems to shrink. I shrug and push past her.

  “I fell.”

  “You fell. This is a lie.” I’m silent, my back to her. “Mia seems to think your mate did this.”

  Mia. Of course, she would run straight to Mona if she thought my mate was harming me in any way. Whether she did this for my sake or simply to appease Mona is uncertain, but it angers me all the same that it’s brought Mona snooping into my hogan. I whirl on her and rear my shoulders back to reach my full height, and with the action, a sense of domination shudders through me. I feel in control, level with Mona. I look her straight in the eyes.

  “Mia doesn’t know everything. She didn’t see what happened, so she can’t be considered a witness. Besides, there was nothing to see. I was clumsy. I fell.”

  Inside, I fume, irritated with Mia—the one person I should be able to depend on to keep my secrets safe. Apparently this is another one of my delusions. What else has she told Mona? Has she told her that I’m not a breeder? Has she betrayed me there, too?

  Mona’s eyes narrow. “We cannot have mates who are out of control. He will have to be disposed of.” She clucks her tongue. “It’s too bad. He was unique.”

  My heart races.

  “Disposed of? Is that your solution for everything?” All the pent-up anger raging inside me against this woman bursts forth. “Why don’t you just call it was it is?”

  I see the blow too late. In a moment of sudden anger, Mona’s hand crashes into the side of my head and sends my flying across the room. It is a powerful strike, and my surprised cry is stifled when I smash into the opposite wall. I fall to the floor with a grunt and a gush of blood from my skull. Mona stands over me, her green eyes sketched with rage.

  “You are not the leader of the Village yet, Kate. And until you are, which is becoming more questionable with each word you utter, you will not defy the one who is. When I say something is to be done, it is the last word!”

  I’m a crumpled heap at Mona’s feet. For a moment, all I can think of is the throbbing pain that soars through my body. Blood trickles down the side of my head and drips to the floor. Drip, drip, drip. My sight blacks out, and in my mind, I see Layla in a river of blood, floating face down, her hair fanned out around her. My bottom lip swells. I press my fingers to it tenderly, assessing my injuries.

  Today, I’ve been slapped by Ian, betrayed by my friend, and pummeled by Mona—and all of this before the noon meal.

  My eyesight blurs back into focus, and Mona stands boldly in her self-importance, arms crossed, feeling justified by what she’s done. And as she looms over me, breathing smoke and fire, I realize how utterly pathetic we both are. And I laugh.

  The absurdity of it hits me with sudden clarity. How does one insignificant girl get herself into such a mess? My laughing becomes uncontrollable. I just lie here, laughing, clutching my side in agony, but I can’t stop.

  Mona steps back, her anger turned to astonishment, and I feel good. She doesn’t seem to know what to do about me. She doesn’t look so collected now. And what do I have to lose? I’ve suffered under her torture enough to know that I can survive it. I’m ready for more. She frowns.

  “Compose yourself, Kate. You look like a fool.”

  I drag myself up and sit against the wall. My face is bloody when I wipe the back of my hand across it. The red streak stains my fingers.

  “I understand now, Mona.” I smile grotesquely through my swollen lips. “You’re the only one who’s allowed to beat me. Anybody else gets disposed of. I see how things work. Thank you for enlightening me.”

  This strikes a chord. She inhales deeply and crosses her arms. “You will not disrespect me. If you do, you will regret it.”

  A muffled laugh escapes my lips again. Apparently, my conversation with Diana has given me a false sense of security. Suddenly, I don’t care what Mona does to me. I’ll defy her. From this day forth until I die, I will do everything I can to make Mona’s circumstances that much more difficult. And I’ll enjoy every moment of it. I glare up at her.

  “
I may one day regret a lot of choices I make in my life, but disrespecting you is not one of them.”

  I’ve gone too far. Mona pounces, drags me to my feet. She clutches my throat and presses me against the wall. Instinctively, my fingers shoot up, grapple with Mona’s, desperately trying to break free. I can’t breathe. Mona’s eyes bear into me as I gasp for air. My feet leave the ground.

  Her eyes are wild with frenzy, a ferocious animal bent on killing her prey. I panic. So this is it? This is how I will go? Mona doesn’t even know what she’s doing. She isn’t herself anymore. She is gone, and some crazed killer who will not quit until I’m dead has taken her place. I kick my feet out, hoping to make contact and break her hold. A few more seconds, and I will black out.

  “Mo . . . na,” I manage to choke. And as quickly as she attacked, Mona releases me. I collapse, sucking precious air into my lungs. Bright stars burst through the narrow darkness behind my eyelids.

  Mona is shaking, and sweat has broken out all over her skin. She raises a trembling hand and wipes her forehead. Her breathing is labored.

  “You’ve crossed yet another line, Kate,” she whispers heavily. “And look at what you’ve made me do? Tomorrow, your mate will be taken out and . . . killed. You had better hope that you have already conceived. If you have not, I’m sure you will not like the alternative.”

  She runs her sweaty hands across the front of her short rawhide skirt and slips through the bamboo leaves without another word.

  After this, I crawl slowly and painfully to my mat, groaning all the way. My side aches. I’m sure a rib is broken. But even through all the pain, my mind is a clear, quiet lake, and I know what I have to do.

  Ian is going to die in the morning. I’m getting him out tonight.