Breeder: An Arrow's Flight Novel

by Casey Hays

  I manage to hold myself up on shaky legs when Tara lets go. She paces in front of me addressing the crowd again.

  “We must decide the proper method of execution. The punishment should fit the crime. So, with that in mind—”

  “Wait!”

  Tara stops mid-sentence and turns toward the small voice. I look, too. It’s Anna Maria, the oldest of the Council members.

  “Tara, my dear,” She rises shakily to her feet, leaning against her walking stick, and raises her head as high as her bent spine will allow. “Don’t be rash. We cannot exercise this authority ourselves. Only the leader can approve the death sentence. We cannot proceed until the new leader is revealed.”

  “I am second-in-command,” Tara growls, glaring at the old woman. “I am in charge in the absence of the leader.”

  “Yes, you are,” Anna Maria’s voice is calm. “And if Mona were merely absent, that would suffice. But she is not. For that would imply that she could be present again at a later time. We all know this is not the case.”

  “What are you getting at, woman?” Tara’s patience, if she’s ever had any, grows thinner with each passing moment. “Are you testing me with riddles?”

  “You cannot be in command if the former leader’s successor has been chosen. As second-in-command, surely you remember this.”

  “She’s correct, Tara.” Leah, another Council member steps up and stands next to the old woman. “It’s in the ledger. We must fetch the box. If Fate has revealed Mona’s replacement, the name will be there. She must be the one to decide Kate’s punishment.”

  I swallow hard. Truly? It comes to this?

  “And if there is no name?” Tara’s eyes narrow angrily as she understands that her chances of choosing my punishment have slimmed considerably.

  “Then you will take charge until the new leader is revealed.” Anna Maria nods her head in respect. “Who knows? It may very well be you.”

  Tara’s scowl relaxes a bit, and a corner of her mouth twitches up into a semi-smile.

  “Very well.” She gestures to Leah. “Fetch the box. Let us see what Fate has decided. Either way, I am sure she will die.”

  She turns glowering eyes on me. I lower my own aware that the time for humility is now.

  And who is in the box? Will I be just as surprised when the name is read?

  The morning sun grows hotter and hotter as we wait for Leah’s return. I sway in the heat and my knees buckle twice, but Tara is always faithfully beside me to jerk me back to my feet. I wipe at the sweat beading across my forehead and swallow to wet my parched throat. Everything in me aches.

  When Leah appears, she carries an intricately carved wooden box. It appears to be interlaced with gold, but I cannot imagine we would have such a commodity in the Village. It is small enough for her to carry with little effort. She moves toward the platform and places it at the edge where I have good view of it.

  On the lid the faces of hundreds of women are carved into the dark wood. They gaze out in all directions. The four sides contain carvings of conch shells of different shapes and sizes, and despite my gloom, I can’t help but admire its beauty.

  I’ve never seen the box; Mona is the only leader I’ve ever known. But I’ve heard about it. Each time a leader resigns or dies, the box is opened and the replacement is revealed. There is much ceremony in the exchange and a long celebration follows the revealing.

  Today, there will be no celebration. Today’s revealing is a sad necessity. No leader has ever been murdered to my knowledge, and a pall hangs over the heads of us all. It holds us anxiously in place.

  Tara takes the box firmly in her hands and holds it above her head. A cheer breaks through the icy silence. It rings out and soars across the sky. And the women are like one body riding on the tide of each other’s emotions with no sign of individuality. It is an ever-present problem with the Village. They will follow each other off the edge of the world, fumbling all the way. I find Mia, and she, too, has been enticed by the deceptive draw urging her on. She glows with the excitement of the box, my plight forgotten, and I want to cry out to her: Do you still not see? Has the Village warped you so strongly that you can never break free of its lure?

  My heart shakes with a fury until I see Diana. Her eyes rest on me, a calmness overflowing from them that reaches out and wraps me in its arms. And everything in me stills.

  A sharp click, and Tara releases the latch on the box. She raises the lid. I hold my breath.

  “The time has come, ladies, to see who is destined to lead the Village,” Tara says, and her voice reeks of frenzy, mingling with the excitement of the women. From the box she lifts a small, rolled piece of golden paper. “Fate chooses our destinies, and it has never been wrong. I give you your new leader.”

  She slowly unrolls the paper.

  Her face goes white.

  “Who is it?” Leah asks, her eyes wide with anticipation. “Who will lead us now?”

  Tara stares at the piece of paper, her mouth slowly dropping open in astonishment.

  “Tara?” Anna Maria narrows her brows and moves toward the platform. “You must reveal it. Tell us, dear. Who has taken Mona’s place?”

  Tara lifts her head, and her eyes rest dumbly on the old woman.

  “Who Tara?” Anna Maria repeats.

  “Kate.”

  Tara whispers my name, stunned.

  But the Council hears. All of their eyes shift in amazement from Tara’s shocked expression to me. All but Anna Maria. She chuckles to herself softly.

  “Is that so?” she says, and her wrinkled skin tightens slightly into a smile. “I guess that poses quite a problem.”

  Tara explodes and storms from the platform to face the old woman head on.

  “This is abominable! She killed Mona. She cannot now replace her. It defies all that is fair!”

  “It may not be fair,” Anna Maria replies in a calm, even tone. “But apparently it’s possible. We’ve just witnessed it.”

  The crowd of women shift anxiously, mumbling in confusion, unaware of what transpires on the stage. I watch Tara with caution. I don’t know what she will do.

  “Who is it?” The women begin to shout in unison. “Tell us who our leader is!”

  “You must tell them, Tara,” Anna Maria implores. “You cannot delay.”

  Tara glares at Anna Maria a minute longer before climbing the steps to stand beside me, and she speaks only for me to hear.

  “You cannot possibly be the chosen leader. If you were, Mona would have told you. It’s customary for the leader to tell her successor the news long before her time is up.”

  “She did.” Tara faces me in surprise. I give her a half-smiling shrug. “The Archer has spoken.”

  I say the words flatly, and Tara steps back, sucking air deep into her lungs. But she doesn’t argue. She faces the crowd and clears her throat.

  “Mona,” she begins, and the women quiet to hear her words. “Mona, with the help of Fate, has chosen her successor. I give you . . .” she hesitates only a moment longer. “Kate.”

  Fire dances in her eyes, but she bows her head in the required respectful manner. My eyes move from her lowered head to sweep across each shocked face. Silence fills the clearing.

  Mia’s mouth is so wide I fear her jaw might break away and hit the ground, and Diana is smiling, as if she’s known all along. The Council members are staring at me now, too, not with animosity, but with uncertainty. I know what they must think. I am young. Under different circumstances, I would not have taken my place as leader for many years. How am I supposed to lead an entire village with so little experience? I see all of it written on each one of their faces, and I agree. I’m not prepared for this responsibility. But here I am. Even Tara no longer objects completely. Fate is never challenged.

  Except by me. And I don’t plan on changing now. I don’t know what to do next, so I search out Anna Maria for guidance. The old woman nods.

  “It’s your cue, child. Step forward and address your
people.”

  I stare at her, unsure. After all my ramblings about change and making a difference in the Village, I am suddenly speechless.

  Hesitantly, I face the crowd and move to the front of the platform.

  Chapter 34

  “You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self; created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.” Ephesians 4:22-24

  The women’s faces are a mixture of emotions: shock, anger, confusion. Stern eyes stare up from the crowd, and a low grumbling erupts. They are not any happier with this turn of events than Tara. I’m terrified, and I know that every one of these women can tell; their anger is fueled by my terror. Some shake angry fists and shout their disapproval at their brand new and very frightened leader. Me.

  Not everyone shouts. Some stare up at me in shock, some in sympathy, but even then I shrink back. All I hear are the angry shouts. Tara blocks me, roughly pushing me forward again.

  “You cannot run from this, Kate.” Her voice is bitter. “The legacy has been handed to you for whatever reason, and you must face it.”

  I’m frozen with fear, and tears sting my eyes as I frantically shake my head.

  As I stare out at the faces of the mob, I realize very suddenly that I’ve come to a crossroads. And I am not ready to be leader. It wasn’t supposed to happen in this way—suddenly and without warning. I am at a loss.

  In a different scenario, Mona would be here, handing me the position in her old age. I would have sat in the chair of honor, high above the heads of the women, older and more experienced than I am today. I feel cheated.

  I spoke big words about the changes I would make when I was leader. But now, in the moment, I don’t even know who I am.

  Ian is dead, and I am broken.

  I am in no position to lead a village. I turn away from the crowd and meet Tara’s eyes.

  “I don’t want this,” I whisper. “I never did, and Mona knew it. She planned to have me executed today. Why was my name in the box?”

  Tara narrows her eyes. “I don’t know what was in Mona’s mind. But as far as your name being in the box, she had no choice. Fate chose you, Kate. Mona was just the instrument Fate used to reveal it.”

  “I don’t believe in Fate.” I raise my chin defiantly.

  Tara smirks and meets me nose for nose.

  “Just because you don’t believe in something doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”

  Behind me, the crowd grumbles among themselves. I want to run, but it’s not an option.

  “You need to address them, Kate. They become restless.”

  Sighing, I turn back. I lift my eyes and speak to them.

  “Please hear me out.”

  The words come like a whisper that even I barely hear, and the many voices roar like many winds.

  “Please!” My voice wavers.

  They continue to yell and shake their fists while I watch helplessly. They will never accept me. Why should they? I killed Mona. And if they didn’t love her, they were—at the least—devoted and loyal subjects. I don’t blame them for their anger, and I don’t expect them to follow me, even if I were inclined to lead.

  As I stand slumped and helpless, Anna Maria moves to the steps, painfully climbs them, and positions herself next to me. I look at her. She raises her walking stick and pounds it twice against the platform. It echoes loudly, and the women begin to settle down.

  “I expect we should give our leader the respect that is due her,” Anna Maria says with conviction. “Regardless of the nature of Mona’s death, she would demand it.”

  She glances at Mona’s lifeless form, and the crowd, as if suddenly remembering Mona’s body lying motionless before them, lowers its voice to a dull rumble. I look, too, and my heart beats in my ears as the blood rushes to my head. I’m dizzy with nausea.

  Anna Maria, squeezes my arm with her warm gnarled fingers. My head clears at her touch. She smiles, nods for me to continue, and stays put. I’m glad. I face the women again.

  “I understand how upset you must be by—by what has happened today.” They raise their voices, so I do, too. “I did not mean to hurt Mona. But it—it is done, and I can do nothing to bring her back. If I could, I promise you I would.”

  I know in my heart that I sincerely mean it, even if they don’t believe me. Their voices rise once again, but I push on, determined.

  “Wait! Please, listen. I never wanted this position. Believe me. And—and I realize that—that some things are beyond our control.”

  I scan the crowd, trying to focus on each face. Trying to formulate what I should say next. I speak my words carefully.

  “You cannot choose under which star you are born, or—or choose who your heart will . . . love . . . .”

  Memories of Ian flash through my mind, and I swallow a sob. At the mention of love, the women grow quiet, exchanging worried glances, and I know that some of them, too, know of love. Diana’s kind of love, perhaps, but love all the same. I raise my voice again.

  “And you cannot stop Death when it comes for you.”

  The crowd has grown silent, pondering. I am young, but perhaps they will see something in me. Perhaps this is my one chance to make them listen—to make them realize that it’s up to them to make a difference in their own lives. And since I still don’t know what is to become of me, these few moments are all I have. Several eyes shift toward Mona’s body and back to me. I muster my confidence and go on.

  “But I’ve learned that some things we can choose,” I say, raising my head.

  A grumble rises among them as they contemplate my words. Many of the women stare at their feet, uncomfortable. Others move about restlessly, their eyes shifting toward me and away again. The Council members exchange nervous, wondering looks. Tara draws in a thick, raspy breath and takes a step toward me, but I ignore her. I know my speech is bordering on mutiny. I speak against a Fate the entire village believes. But I don’t care. I suddenly know exactly what I should say. This is my time to finally have a voice, and I will have it.

  “Think about it.” I raise my voice above the grumblings. “You make choices everyday. You choose what you will wear or whether or not you will eat. You decide which day of the week to go to the Pit, hunt for rabbit, plant seed, perform whatever duty you’ve been assigned. No one controls you in this.”

  The tone of the crowd changes, and I know they are considering my words. Heads are nodding in agreement, however cautiously. I close my eyes and consider every choice I’ve made since my birthday. Fate had nothing to do with any of them. I refused to be a breeder all on my own. I tried to save Layla. I helped Ian escape. I pushed Mona into the Pit. These were my choices alone. And good or bad, they make up who I am. I make eye contact with each woman who dares to look at me.

  “If we have these choices, why can we not decide other things for our lives?” I move across the platform, spurred on by boldness now, speaking directly to the women, pulling them in. “What if you could be whatever you want, instead of what the Council, or Fate, or the leader decides for you? Maybe you want to be a doctor instead of a hunter. Shouldn’t you have the opportunity to find out what you can be? And perhaps—perhaps you don’t want to be a breeder. And perhaps there should be no jailers at all.”

  Shock soars through the crowd. Tara grits her teeth, and out of the corner of my eye, I see her fists tighten.

  “No jailers?” A woman cries out. “Are you mad? Who would control the stock?”

  “Who says there should be stock?” I ask. “Shouldn’t the men have a choice, too?”

  This brings us to the heart of the matter. The roar of the crowd explodes. Several women raise their eyes to stare in amazement as if I’ve grown another head. I know what they are saying. This is treason. This is what causes wars. What would the Village be with no stock? With no method of controlling the male population or the births
themselves? What I suggest will cause our village as we know it to crumble into chaos. There must be breeders because there have always been breeders.

  I see all of this behind their eyes, ruminating in their brains. I raise my head.

  “Choices matter to me,” I continue despite their displeasure. “They always have, even though I’ve had very few. But I made one choice that I have never regretted, and it has changed my life forever. It made me who I am, and it saved me from a life I would have despised.”

  I walk the length of the platform.

  “My friend once called me the rebel breeder.” I glance at Diana and smile. “I guess . . . it’s what I am.” I pause, face the Council. “And I would be that kind of leader, too. I’m not certain you are ready for me.”

  Diana claps her hands, and several women turn to stare. Her eyes widen, and she lowers her arms, face red. I smile at my one supporter.

  I take a deep breath and address the crowd one final time. And despite all the mixed emotions roiling inside me; despite the fact that I convinced myself that I had no choice but to take the leadership one day, suddenly, as if I’ve finally come out of a fog, I know what I have to do. The realization spreads through me like a cool drink of spring water, and I raise my eyes to the sky, collecting myself. My hands fall to my sides, and I meet the waiting faces.

  “I cannot be your leader. Not like this.”

  Stunned silence replaces their grumbling as they gawk at me. No one has ever done such a thing before. It’s unheard of to defy Fate so openly, to disregard a destiny the stars have prepared. And not one of them knows how to react.

  Anna Maria stands by me silently, her face lacking any kind of emotion, as if she expected me to say these things all along. She doesn’t appear worried, but the other Council members wait expectantly, hoping this is not something they will have to repair. Tara is a statue standing tall and silent in the background.

  “I do not believe anybody should become leader of the Village, simply because Fate put a name in a box.”

  I wait for their reaction. Silence answers.