Breeder: An Arrow's Flight Novel

by Casey Hays

  “This feeling that I have? It’s almost as if . . . even if I left the Village to look for it, I wouldn’t find what’s missing. As if it’s not the Village that’s causing the emptiness. It’s not the Archer or the Moirai. It’s something else. Some root problem that is deeper than all of these.”

  He shrugs, completely lost as to what I’m trying to say. I try again.

  “What I mean is . . . I might be able to find what fills the emptiness if I knew what I was looking for. And if I could fill this void inside me, it wouldn’t matter if I was here or somewhere else. I would never feel empty again.”

  John looks at me for a very long time before he reaches out and takes my hand. He squeezes, and my tiny hand is swallowed up in his massive one.

  “You do understand, don’t you?”

  He smiles and shrugs again.

  John is very different from Ian. There is no comparison except that he is also intelligent and interesting. But many things distinguish them from one another. John is compassionate in a way Ian never was. Ian was fire where John is extinguishing water. And when I’m feeling downtrodden or depressed, even without words he’s able to “say” just what I need to hear. He is a firm rock amidst my ever-slipping avalanche, and I am amazed at what we have. It’s a true friendship, untainted by any awkward feelings. I don’t know how I would have managed all this time without him.

  Our relationship is not full of fiery passion that shifts with our changing moods. When John touches me, it’s mild and reassuring, and it doesn’t cause my pulse to race through my veins at full speed. No. John brings nothing of this out in me. Only Ian. Where Ian is concerned, my heart takes the lead, and I can do nothing but follow.

  Ian took a piece of me with him when he left. It belongs to him now. And a piece of him is here with me . . . in dreams, memories. No one can fill his place, and, frankly, I don’t want anyone to.

  I run Ian’s last words through my mind. He spoke of having a family . . . with me. I hope he’s changed his mind. I want him to have it all. All the things his life has to offer that he can never have with me. And as much as it pains me to think it, I hope he finds someone with which to have those beautiful moments.

  I chew on my lip. I don’t like thinking about what could have been.

  I sigh heavily, and John senses my mood. He squeezes my hand again.

  “Mona plans to hand this village over to me someday,” I say. He stares in surprise. I shake my head. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you, but I don’t care. I don’t want to be the leader.” I pause and fall back onto the mat again. “But . . . I suppose if it turns out I must someday, I vow to make this a different place. A better place. You just wait, John.”

  His eyes glaze over a little, and he nods his head.

  “I’m so glad I met you,” I say, reaching out to run a hand across his cheek. “With you I feel peace.”

  >--->

  I’m surprised to find Mona waiting for me near the barracks when I leave John’s cave. Puddles of different shapes and sizes dot the Pit, and I hop between them looking for any dry spot to place my feet. When I see her, the familiar tenseness I feel every time she comes near pokes at me angrily.

  “Kate,” she nods. “I would like a word with you.”

  She matches her stride with mine as we continue toward the ladder together.

  “I can’t help but notice that you are not yet with child.”

  I swallow and keep my eyes ahead, hoping she can’t see the dread that suddenly creeps in. This is why she’s come.

  “These things take time, Mona.” My voice is quiet.

  “It’s been nearly four months, Kate.” She takes a hold of my arm and pulls me to a dead stop. “I had certainly hoped you were done with your silly rebellion by now. We should be finished with that nonsense.”

  I want to scream at her. I want to say, “Never, Mona! Remember my promise? I will defy you until the day I die!” Instead I keep my eyes lowered with a submission I don’t feel. But I don’t have the energy to fight today.

  “We know John is strong—one of the best from our stock. He’s produced five very strong, healthy children. All of them were good quality, so there is only one explanation. You are not complying with your duty.”

  I don’t say anything. Her grip tightens on my arm, and it takes everything in me not to let the pain show on my face.

  “You never have, have you?”

  Her words are angry, and they sear into me. I cringe as her fingers squeeze my arm even harder.

  “I assure you, if you are not pregnant soon, you will not like what my next plan is for you. I would think very carefully about any contrary decisions.”

  Her eyes burn me with their power, and terror grips me. I see Death.

  “I—I thought I had a year to produce.”

  She narrows her eyes dangerously. “There are no concessions for those who deliberately refuse to fulfill their duties. You will not be afforded any grace after your behavior. Mind yourself, Kate. Time is running slim for you.”

  She lets go of my arm, climbs the ladder, and disappears at the top.

  >--->

  I can’t sleep again, so I lie on my mat, staring out the tiny window at the one big star I can see, and I think of Ian.

  After all these months, his kiss still glows hot in my memory. I can’t erase it.

  Madam Belle briefly touched on kissing in her classes, but I never intended to use what she taught. Kisses are optional in the Pit, and since I am not inclined to do anything that’s required in the Pit, I certainly am not interested in options, not even after Mona’s threat.

  But Ian’s kisses have made me curious. In another life, maybe we could have had more. Maybe passion would have swept us off our feet and dropped us into each others hearts forever. Maybe I would have been free to love him the way Meg loved her mate. But I know how her love story ended. Love is not welcome here. Not when the rules of my life make such an act a forced obligation.

  Ian asked me once why I was different, and I gave him my best answer at the time. I wish I could understand it better myself. I don’t know the answer. I only know that I can’t give in to Fate. I can’t obey the rules when they seem to be in direct opposition to some innate drive in me that won’t let me compromise myself no matter the cost.

  And now, with Ian’s memory haunting me every night, I will never become a breeder. It is too much like a betrayal.

  But it will cost me. Mona’s threat promised it.

  I like remembering Ian. It keeps him alive for me. I remember how his fingers felt when he tangled them up in mine. The blue of his eyes is permanently painted on my brain. I even miss our fights, and I miss those times he let me see his sensitive side, too. And when I concentrate fully, I can feel how warm his lips are, and I’m transported to a place where nothing seems impossible.

  Ian has been gone a long time now. I don’t expect to ever see him again. I’m glad that he’s not here, for his sake. But I do miss him. Even under the cover of darkness, it seems dangerous admitting this. I hardly knew him, but I know him. In my heart, I know him well. And even though John is there, the monotonous trips to the Pit seem pointless when they aren’t to see Ian.

  A more pessimistic side of me fears that he might have died somewhere along the way, and the vultures are now feasting on his sunburned body. And even though I told him to stay away, part of me hopes death is the only thing that’s kept him from coming back. I hate myself for thinking it. I’m not a fan of self pity.

  But my days are filled with thoughts like these, swinging themselves back and forth like a black pendulum clanging against my heart.

  >--->

  Diana is pregnant, and depression sets in. She stays inside her hogan most of the time now. She refuses to eat, and nothing Mia or I do can persuade her to come with us to the riverbank. She remains inside, Tabitha cuddled close to her, and mourns.

  I’m worried.

  “Do you think we should try to get Diana out of the Village?”
r />   Mia and I lounge on a blanket in our favorite spot by the river. The chores are done, and we have the rest of the day to ourselves. Mia and I still have very different opinions about life and Fate, but despite this, we can spend hours together without once mentioning the Pit or the Moirai, and I’m grateful for this. We laugh; we talk about our childhood; we sit in comfortable silence. Sometimes on days like these with Mia, I feel like I’m a child again. It’s comforting.

  She lies on her back making pictures with her eyes out of the big, puffy clouds that float above us, but my question takes her by surprise, and she squints at me curiously.

  “Get her out of the Village? We can’t even get her out of her hogan, and not for lack of trying. How would we manage to get her to leave the Village for a whole day?”

  “I don’t mean for a day.” I clarify. “I mean forever.”

  She rolls over onto her stomach, her eyes wide.

  “As in what we talked about before—when she wanted Ian to take her, but it was too late?” she whispers. “Do you mean this sort of ‘out’?”

  I only raise my brows, indicating it is what I mean. Mia sits up.

  “How? He’s gone.”

  “I know, but you’ve seen her. She’s dying inside. And it’s obvious why.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s going to have another baby, Mia. For the nursery . . . if it gets to live.”

  Mia says nothing. I take a deep breath.

  “If we could get her past the guards, she could find her way from there. Ian told me there are villages in many places—miles from here, but still. If we sent her with enough food and water for a few days, perhaps she would find one.”

  “Kate,” Mia stands up, so I do, too. We face each other. “That’s absurd. We can’t just send Diana out into the unknown with a new baby, and pregnant, too. What if she travels in a direction where there is no village at all? What then? I don’t want to be responsible for her death. And—and we have no proof any other village but our own exists. We’ve never seen another one.”

  I raise my shoulders, peering at her. “I believe Ian. I believe Mona.”

  And I believe John.

  “Mona?” Her mouth drops in disbelief, but she shakes her head and pretends I didn’t mean to say it. “Kate, you didn’t know that much about Ian. Perhaps he was from another village, or . . . he contrived the entire story. He could have been from our own nursery.”

  “Where did he go, then?” My eyes plead with her. It’s emphatic that she believes me. Diana’s welfare depends on it. “He is from Eden. And I know him better than you think.”

  “Are you so certain? When you calculate the days you spent with him, what is the sum?” Hands on her hips, she arches a superior brow. “And you believe you know him.”

  I glare at her. “I know him.”

  I turn sharply and walk back toward the Village. I feel defensive, and I don’t care what Mia says. Everything he told me is the truth. I may not have seen it with my own eyes, but Mona admitted it to me. John’s been there. Eden is real.

  “Kate! Where are you going?” Mia gathers up the blanket and follows me. “Kate! This conversation is not finished!”

  “I’ve had enough fresh air.”

  I keep walking, moving quickly, trying to put distance between us. I want to be alone. Mia has suddenly become an irritation, rubbing into my sensitive parts. I quicken my pace.

  “Wait!” Mia catches up. “Kate, I’m sorry.”

  “You should be.” I stop walking to face her. “You have no right to assume things about me and Ian. Have you talked with your mate yet? Because I can guarantee you that in one week, I learned more about Ian than you’ve learned about your mate in all these months.”

  I spin on my heels and trudge toward the Village.

  “His name is Chad.”

  Her voice is so quiet I nearly fail to catch what she’s said. I stop.

  “What?”

  “Chad. That’s his name.”

  I stare at her. She sighs and casts her eyes toward the tree line.

  “He’s smart. Smarter than I thought he would be. And he—he wants us . . . not to be separated.” She looks at me; her eyes glisten faintly. “He’s afraid if—if I don’t conceive soon, they’ll take me away from him and give me to someone else. I didn’t know. I didn’t know he could feel such things.”

  I take a step toward her and tentatively wrap an arm around her shoulders, our fight forgotten. “What did I tell you? They’re more complex than the Council wants us to believe. Madam Belle doesn’t teach us this in her lessons because Mona doesn’t want us to know it. ‘Men start wars, and they must be controlled.’”

  I quote my last sentence mimicking Mona’s common expression.

  “All men?” Mia asks. Her wet eyes search my face.

  “I don’t believe so. Some men must have wanted peace at some point. But they aren’t given the chance here. We don’t offer it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I weigh my next words carefully. I want Mia to understand more than I ever have before. I piece it together in my head first.

  “Ian told me that in Eden, the men want what the women want. It’s more than just peace. It’s unity and sharing a life with someone.”

  “We do that here.”

  “It’s different there.” I shrug. “He could explain it better, so I won’t try. But I think it is a beautiful concept to be treated as a human. Because we are all human: fisher, nanny, breeder . . . and stock.”

  Mia thinks on it, and nods. “Yes. I—I think I’m beginning to see it.”

  We walk arm in arm.

  “And what do you think of Chad now?” I prod, gently squeezing Mia’s arm.

  She shrugs. “He’s very nice. He makes me laugh sometimes. We spent an entire afternoon talking, as you suggested. I told him about the Village, he told me what he could remember of his younger days in the nursery, but he wouldn’t tell me everything, Kate. He says some things are too terrible for his own mind, and he will never put them into words.” Her eyes turn cautious, as if she’s protecting his secret. “He treats me differently now. He touches me and holds me so . . . tenderly, I suppose.”

  I smile. And then I say something that may or may not be true because I don’t necessarily have any standard by which to gauge it.

  “Perhaps this is love.”

  Mia raises her brows. “Love? Do you think it could be?”

  I shrug. “I can’t say, but if it is, cherish it. I don’t believe it comes often.”

  I chew on my lip as we continue down the lane toward the Village. I can’t quite decide if Ian’s kisses equal love. Both times, we were on the edge of danger, so how would I know? Perhaps they were a desperate attempt to calm our fears or hold onto some kind of sanity.

  But a deeper part of my heart is leaning toward the idea that love might very well be a possibility in the Village. And Mia gives me further hope that change is in the air. It’s coming on strong winds that even Mona can’t subdue.

  “Meg loved her mate,” Mia breaks into my thoughts. “And she died for it.” She glances at me sideways. “Love is dangerous. I’m not sure I want it.”

  I assess her words as we enter the Village. I’m not sure I do either.

  But something within me whispers that it might be worth the risk.

  Chapter 24

  “Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth—for your love is more delightful than wine. Pleasing is the fragrance of your perfumes; your name is like perfume poured out. No wonder the maidens love you! Take me away with you—let us hurry! Let the king bring me into his chambers.” Song of Solomon 1: 2-4

  I can’t sleep—again. Insomnia makes the days long and exhausting. I drag myself through my chores, anxious to be released to lounge at the edge of the woods where I can at least rest my eyes.

  My nights are even longer. I toss on my mat, sighing, counting, singing quietly to myself, anything that might help.

  Nothing helps.

/>   Tonight, I crawl outside to stare at the stars—habitually looking for the Archer despite myself. But it’s cloudy, and the misty air wets my skin. I wrap a thin shawl more tightly around myself and make my way toward the woods behind my hogan. I walk along the tree line, rubbing a finger over each tree trunk.

  I try to picture Ian’s face. By now, it’s becoming a fuzzy memory, and this bothers me even though I know I think about him too much, and it needs to end.

  It has not escaped me that he’s one of the reasons I can’t sleep. He plagues me. The thought of never seeing him again haunts my thoughts and only makes the fact that I can’t remember his face even worse. But he’s here. Always here, every night in my head, calling my name.

  “Kate!”

  Like this.

  “Kate!”

  I stop dead in my tracks and spin toward the voice—which is not in my head. My heart beats loudly against my chest. Did I just imagine that?

  “Over here!”

  I scan the trees, panic prickling every inch of my skin. A light flickers on, and a beam flows out from the tree line. Terrified, I take a backwards step.

  A shadow behind the beam separates itself from the trees and moves toward me, the light bumping along with each step. I brace myself, stifle a scream, and prepare to run.

  “It’s me, Kate.”

  The light falls over Ian’s face. I gasp and my hand shoots up to cover my mouth.

  “Ian?”

  Disbelief hammers me. I reach for him, touch his arm just to make sure he’s not another dream I’ve concocted inside my overly-tired head. And it’s him—in the flesh. My heart does a strange jumping-for-joy flip as his features form out of the darkness and sketch themselves back into my brain. It’s him. He’s here!

  Before I can stop myself, I’m leaping into his arms. He laughs and wraps them around me, squeezing me tightly. I can’t believe he’s been foolish enough to come back here again, but this does nothing to staunch my complete joy at seeing him.

  “What is the matter with you?” I say, my words muffled against his neck. “Do you have some overwhelming desire to die?”