“Whoa,” he said, grabbing my shoulders so I wouldn’t fall backward down the steps.
“Shh,” I warned him. Marsh closed his mouth, following my orders for silence. I snuck up to the second floor and waved to him to follow me. We went back into the master bedroom and softly shut the door. Using the curtain to hide me from the outside, I reached through the panels to open the door to the patio. Either the kitchen windows were still propped from the night before, or the servants’ door was left ajar, because I heard every word from where we stood.
“I told you, I don’t know,” Jeorge said.
“You were supposed to let me know if there was anything, anything suspicious going on around here!”
Noran.
My mouth fell agape.
Jeorge was spying on us?
“What’s going on?” Marsh whispered, and I hushed him. I didn’t want to miss anything said.
“Nothing was out of the ordinary, sir.”
“If nothing was out of the ordinary, then why did I see half of our security officers accompany Calish off property? What was in those wagons?”
“I was late this morning, sir. I didn’t know they were gone until I arrived.”
“Where are the others?”
“What others, sir?”
“The other two maids, you idiot!”
Jeorge’s whimpers turned to a wailing cry.
“Let me guess; you don’t know!”
Jeorge’s torture ended as quickly as it began.
Thump.
Hard footsteps paced in the room below.
“What about his brother, the big one? Did he leave, too?”
“There’s no one here, so I assume so, sir.”
“If they are headed back to that camp, and we missed it…” Noran took a deep breath. “You better hope you didn’t fuck this up again.”
“I’m so sorry, sir. Please show pity on your poor servant. I swear to you, I didn’t know who those other people were. I thought they were Authority. They all had badges just like the rest of the officers. Calish said he recruited his brother to protect the lady of the house.”
“I’m done with this.” Noran cleared his throat. His voice became calm and controlled. “You came to the house late, and you will continue with your day as you had planned. We did not meet. When Calish returns, you will find out where he traveled to and what he transported.” His voice was smooth and seductively persuasive.
He’s charming Jeorge.
The servants’ door slammed shut. With my heart pounding against my chest, I peeked out between the curtains. Noran stormed back toward his house across the rear lawn.
I closed the sliding door and leaned up against the wall. “We have to get out of here,” I whispered.
“But Calish told me to stay here with you,” Marsh argued. “They’re supposed to be back tonight.”
“Jeorge is watching us for Noran. They think we’re gone. If he knows we’re here, he might ask questions then charm us to make us forget. We can’t let that happen. I cannot go through that again.”
“We won’t be able to get out the front gate,” Marsh said. “You remember what happened when we were trying to get thistle.”
“Then we’ll have to get over the rear fence.”
“With all the security around here?” he replied indignantly.
“You’re right. We’ll need a diversion.”
“We won’t be able to take horses if we go the way you’re suggesting. We’ll have to walk.”
“We’ve made the walk from the river to our parents’ house a hundred times before,” I said.
Marsh finally stopped making excuses and decided to brainstorm with me. We sat alone in the dark and hatched a plan to get out of the house and hopefully out of the neighborhood. It wasn’t our finest plan, although with any luck, it would work well enough to get past the guards. We’d take our chances with the Citizens later.
* * *
I must admit, it was not as hard as I’d feared to move around the house undetected by Jeorge. Since he assumed everyone left, he wasn’t expecting to find anyone inside with him. Being in a familiar place brought comfort as well as complacency. It’s interesting how comfortable people get in their surroundings. As Scavengers, we always looked over our shoulder, but at home, we let our guard down. We always felt threatened when we were out at the river or on the road, yet our rigged traps and safeguards gave us a sense of security when back on our parcel. Jeorge, I’m sure, found this house safe and therefore relaxed, too. That was our only advantage to escaping. Well, that and his shuffling footsteps.
Marsh and I crept to the guest room to fetch his bow and arrows. On his hands and knees, he fished around under his bed and grabbed a half-empty bottle of alcohol hidden there.
“Why did you hide it?” I asked as he poured it over a sock.
“Don’t be stupid.”
“I didn’t consider it a dumb question.”.
“It was for me and Trisk,” he said abruptly.
“Why not wine? It’s more romantic.”
“It also takes longer to work.” He wrapped the sock around the shaft of one of the arrows.
“Did you get her drunk to…”
“Gods, no! What kind of a man do you think I am?” I apologized, but he ignored it. He changed the subject. “Do you realize if this gets out of control, it will destroy everything in existence?”
“There’s been a fire before. People survived.”
“Yeah, then they created this amazing place full of beauty and prosperity.” He took a swig from the bottle and offered me a sip.
I refused. “Then I suggest you aim well, and we don’t force the cowards to recreate this atrocity.”
My brother walked over to the window and peered out between the sheer fabric. “There’s a strip of dried grasses and some shrubs next to the fence over there. I’m pretty sure the arrow will reach it, even with the extra weight on it.”
He pulled the panel back for me to see it for myself. “I agree. It’s close enough to the stone fence the flames should be contained but still threatening enough to get it quickly controlled.”
A community well sat near the area he intended to hit. It had been there long before the neighbors found a way to install plumbing. Although it stood mostly as decoration, we assumed the thing still functioned properly. If the Authority guards worked fast enough, they’d be able to put out the fire before it spread too far to be unmanageable. I doubted the new recruits would be efficient. All we needed was a little time to get out of the house and over the boundary fence at the back edge of our yard. If we escaped without burning down all of civilization as we knew it, I’d consider our job well done.
Marsh opened the window wide and took his stance, bracing himself against the casing. He lined up his shot while I got the matches from next to the lantern. When he indicated he was ready, I pushed the drapes out of the way and stroked the match along the flint. A small but dangerous flame appeared.
“Don’t miss.”
“I don’t plan to.” Marsh met the flame with the tip of his arrow. The saturated sock lit up and black smoke licked the ceiling. Careful not to burn the curtains, he quickly pulled back, aimed, and let the arrow fly. I slammed the window closed, not bothering with anything but the smoldering match. Marsh threw the bow over his shoulder, and we hustled with soft feet to the bedroom door. A whistle from outside caused us to halt at the top of the stairs. Shouting erupted from the guards monitoring the perimeter. Through the front windows, we saw the patch of grass fully engulfed in flames.
Jeorge rushed to the front door and swung it wide. “Good gods.” He gasped, never seeing us on the staircase behind him. He took a few steps forward until he found himself standing in the street. His body twitched, unsure if he should run toward the fire or away from it.
“Now!” Marsh flew down the last few stairs with me at his heels. We dashed down the hallway to the kitchen and out the servants’ door. We stopped briefly to survey the yard a
nd neighboring houses, especially Noran’s. The normal guard posts for this side of the neighborhood were unmanned, but we both knew it would not be for long.
The stone wall reached much higher than I had noticed before. Marsh saw my hesitation and reassured me we could make it. He led me up against the wall and bent down to offer me a lift up. “You get up to the top and wait. I’ll climb up and over and help you down on the other side of it.”
This would have been so much easier if I weren’t pregnant.
Measuring myself against the height of the fence, I stepped into Marsh’s hands. By strength and fear, he elevated me so high, I could nearly sit on the top with little effort.
“Here.” He handed me his bow and arrows. Taking a few steps backward for a running start at the wall, he scaled it quickly. With the adrenaline racing through his veins, he made the feat look easy. He didn’t stop; he whipped his legs over and slid down the other side in one continuous motion.
I handed him his things.
“Come on,” he said, but it would not be as quick for me. I rolled over and tried to find his hands with my foot. My belly was keeping me high on the wall. “I’m right below you, just let yourself fall a bit.”
“I can’t.” I grunted. “I’m too fat. And too scared.”
“I’m right here!”
Just then a neighbor came out into the backyard of their house. Desperate not to be seen, I let myself go. Thankfully, I didn’t go far. Just as he said, Marsh was right underneath me. I collapsed against the outside of the fence, still hanging on to the top of the stone with my fingertips.
“You’ve got to let go!” When I did, he lowered me to the ground and dusted off his hands. “Wow, you’ve packed on the weight.”
“Thanks, as if I don’t feel self-conscious enough,” I mumbled as I straightened my shirt over my pregnant belly.
“It’s almost as if I were lifting two people instead of one,” he mused.
“Oh, shut it.”
Now where do we go?
The land on that side of the fence grew into a natural mess. Unkempt and overgrown, the wandering berry vines had woven themselves through the branches of wild woody weeds and evergreen trees, making the brush impassable for anything bigger than a rabbit. Everything around us had been dried like kindling, and the vegetation that outlasted some had browned in a failed attempt to spite the unforgiving sun. Even in death, the vines continued to threaten trespassers with their mature, wooden-like thorns ready to take a blood offering.
Our best bet was to stay close to the fence and wedge our way along it as long as it allowed. We struggled against the tugging of branches, occasionally working together to pass the difficult areas.
“We should have brought a machete or something,” Marsh lamented.
“What do we do when the fence ends?”
“I don’t know,” he said, lifting a branch up and ducking underneath it. “So, what did you hear that made us run out anyway?”
I kept my voice low so no one on the other side would hear. “Noran is using Jeorge as an informant.”
“You told me that already.”
“Yes, but I don’t know if Jeorge is aware of it.”
“Is he charming him?”
I nodded.
“That’s all it takes for him to make people talk?”
“Not to talk, but definitely to make you forget you did. Maybe Jeorge is easier to extract information from,” I guessed. “He knew we were leaving today and where we were headed, yet he didn’t say a word about it. Noran was pretty angry something happened right under his nose.”
“I wonder what the maids told him,” Marsh inquired.
“If he’s asked either of them, he wouldn’t be questioning Jeorge.”
“Good point. We need to warn Calish.”
“That’s not all. Noran knows you’re from the Resistance.”
He stopped, grabbing my arm. “How?”
“I don’t know, but he knows you’re impersonating Authority with those badges.” I tapped his lapel.
My brother took off the badge and stared at it. “I hated wearing this thing anyway.” He chucked it deep into the overgrown vegetation.
“What did you do that for?”
“Think about it. What good does it do if they know who I am? Besides, we might be safer traveling the road without it.”
“You could have just put it in your pocket.”
Marsh looked out into the area he threw it. “That probably would have been a better option.”
I shook my head and nudged him forward. “We should keep moving.”
We continued along the fence until we came to a small clearing in front of a door in the rock. “I didn’t know there was an exit back here.”
“There’s not.” Marsh looked around the door. “I’ve walked the perimeter. There is no door.”
“You’ve been through the entire neighborhood? There must be a hundred houses in there.”
“Six hundred thirty-eight, to be exact,” he said proudly. “Not including the barracks. Those are tents, not houses. I’ve not counted those.”
My eyes widened. “The Authority kicked six hundred families out of their homes?”
Marsh scrunched up his face and shook his head. “Oh, gods, no.” His expression relaxed. “They stole six hundred and thirty-eight of them and gave them to their generals. Didn’t you know? You live in the temporary capital of Ashlund. After the landslide, the Authority required the safety and accommodations for its ‘most worthy Citizens.’”
If he spouted off a number like that, either he counted them himself, or someone who knew told him. It was too accurate to be made up. “With that many people, there had to be other entrances,” I finally said.
“I thought the same thing. A couple of roads extend under the stone fence. The Authority must have walled them off. The only access I’ve seen is the front gate.”
“Well, there must have been something you missed if there’s a door out here.”
Marsh jumped up and grabbed the top of the wall.
“What are you doing?” I whispered.
“If this is a secret entrance, it’s got to be in a place not seen by the guards or else you couldn’t go in and out of it without being detected. I want to see what’s on the other side.” He slowly pulled himself up. Everyone knew Marsh was strong, but not that strong. He hung suspended for a moment, confirming no one was watching. He worked faster to scramble himself on top of the wall and leaned over it, balancing on his stomach. He scooted away from me before pushing himself off and landing next to me. “It’s a shed. There are a few of them in the backyards. I would have never guessed one was a pass-through.”
“Do you think someone is using it?”
“Someone’s got to be. This path is well traveled,” he said. “Do you think it’s Noran?”
“Honestly, it could be anybody,” I said with a sigh. “Who knows whose side anyone is on anymore.” The trail led off into the overgrowth beyond. It wound back on itself toward the river. “What do you think?”
“It’s got to lead somewhere,” he said. “Even if it’s to the water, it will give us a clearer way away from here.”
If it went there, I’d feel better about its existence. “What if someone else is on it?”
“They won’t be expecting us, that’s for sure. How good is that wolf hearing of yours?” He took a couple steps down the trail.
“Pretty good, just walk softly, and don’t talk.”
“Then, let’s go,” he said, pulling an arrow from his quiver.
A flash of light hit my eyes, and I saw Marsh standing in a deep green tree, drawn on me. I gasped and fell backward on the trail.
“Una? What’s wrong?” He reached down for me, but I inched away from him. “Una?”
How could that be? We are surrounded by nothing but brown dead or dying vegetation.
Marsh knelt.
I blinked hard. “It’s…nothing.”
“What happened?”
Marsh looked at the ground under me. “I think I know you well enough to know when you’re lying.” He stood, offering to help me up.
“I’m not.” I accepted his assistance then dusted myself off.
He stepped back. “Yes, you are. But I trust you.” He turned to go down the path before us.
The quiver attached to his belt knocked against his leg as he walked, the limb of the bow long across his back. Inside my shirt, I touched an aching spot where the arrow would have pierced my chest if he released it. My breast, smooth and plump with milk, felt no different than it did that morning; still, I felt evidence of the arrow’s mark.
A vision.
He stopped. “Are you coming?”
“Yeah.” I swatted a mosquito and proceeded down the path.
My brother and I never played with arrows as children. If we had, I could have dismissed what I saw as a memory, but our parents wouldn’t allow us to play with weapons. Besides, Marsh hated them. He preferred thistle spears.
It must be a foretelling, but why would he draw on me?
If I couldn’t read the archer’s future, I wouldn’t be able to see Marsh’s. I cursed myself, counting the experience as one of a dozen things I didn’t understand today. All I should have focused on was putting as much distance between us and the neighborhood as possible.
The well-trodden trail confessed its frequent usage. The width unwillingly admitted the traveler came alone. If it were not for the hot sun turning mud into dust, we might have seen footprints pointing in one direction or the other. Knowing where they headed last may have brought me relief. Where did the traveler call home? Was he or she a neighbor of mine or an opportunist trying to survive? The thought of intercepting either caused me to hyper focus on the sounds around us. Singing birds and a chorus of bugs seducing a potential mate might be pleasant when eating lunch on a warm day, but honestly, I wished they’d all shut up. They interrupted my ability to determine the difference between an enemy from the other ambient noises of the overgrown field.
Scavenger Girl: Season of Toridia Page 19