Tithe

by Claire Vale

  She yawns, rubbing her eyes. “Tell me again why we have to be up so early?”

  “No idea whatsoever.” It seems a bit excessive. Last night we were left to our own devices, supper and then a couple of hours in the recreation room. It’s not like our schedule is packed to bursting. “I guess we don’t. I mean, if you can sleep through that siren, that is.”

  “If I can sleep through Emily’s snores, I can sleep through anything,” Jessie groans.

  “At least you got Emily,” I say unsympathetically. “I got Rose.”

  “She’s not all that bad.”

  A stall vacates and Jessie slips in before I can vent my disagreement.

  I need ten minutes flat to get ready for the day. Jessie takes considerably longer, and I lie on a bunk in her room, chatting while she fluffs and puffs and detangles her curls. I love her hair, but I don’t envy her the maintenance.

  On our way past the whiteboard, we pause to read.

  As I suspected, there’s not much planned for the day.

  08:00 FT - quad

  “What is FT?” asks Jessie.

  “Free Time?” I say with a laugh

  We step outside to find Gabe and Harry waiting for us in the quad. A smile lights my face.

  “We were starting to think you two had skipped town,” Harry says.

  Jessie flips strands of long, loose curl. “Making this look good takes a lot of work.”

  “You don’t have to tame it for me, babe.” He grins, snaking an arm around her waist. “You know I like you wild.”

  I’m still rolling my eyes at them when Gabe twists me around and into his arms. “Hey, you,” he murmurs as his lips brush mine.

  He keeps an arm around me as we walk and I can’t stop smiling over nothing much at all. Seems this is what love does to a person. It strikes me that I haven’t yet said the words to Gabe, the words he gave me so freely. I do love him. I love him with all my heart. I wonder what I’m waiting for.

  When we reach the door across the quad, Gabe holds me back after Jessie and Harry have gone through.

  “What is it?” I ask, worried by his serious expression.

  “This…” He presses me up against the door for a proper, thorough kiss.

  I’m not complaining.

  My hands slip around him, scrubbing the edges of his t-shirt to explore his warm skin and hard muscle. His familiar scent is all around me, musky traces of earth and the tang of ripening fruit. He smells like home.

  Gabe pulls out of the kiss, too soon, resting his forehead on mine. “Good morning, gorgeous.”

  “I like this,” I sigh, my palms still pressed skin-to-skin on his back, still relishing the touch of him, wishing we could stay like this forever. “If this is how you say good morning, sign me up for life.”

  “I intend to,” he says, standing back to smile at me.

  He’s looking at me that way again, as if I’m his world, and I realize I’m not waiting for anything.

  I reach up slowly, my gaze drinking him in as I cup his strong jaw, my thumb stroking the buzz of his blonde stubble. “I love you, Gabe Winter. I’m not sure I ever did anything to deserve this, but I’ll take it, and I’ll never let it go.”

  “Is that a promise?” he says softly.

  My hand moves from his jaw into a fist over my heart.

  He leans in for another kiss that ends too soon. He scoops my hand in his, doesn’t let go until we’re in the cafeteria and need our hands to grab a plate. There’s no one behind the counter, just hot trays of scrambled egg and platters of quartered oranges and diced melon. I place two slices of thick bread under the grill to toast while I serve myself a hearty portion of egg, giving Jessie a nod when I see her waving for us to join their table.

  “Go,” Gabe tells me. “I’ll bring the bread.”

  I arrive mid-conversation that doesn’t pause, the subject immediately obvious.

  “Oh, yeah…” Jessie smiles my way. “Senna says it’s Free Time.”

  Chris wags a brow at me. “That’s more fun than mine.”

  Not the suggestive kind of wag, he stopped all that the moment Gabe and I became official. “Which is?” I ask.

  “Foresting and Timber.”

  “That’s an apprenticeship, not a Tithe activity.”

  “Tithe activity?” Daniel mocks me. “We’re not in primary school.”

  I dig into my eggs while they keep guessing.

  “Fancy Tap Dancing,” says Jessie.

  “That’d be FTD.”

  “That sounds like a disease.”

  This goes on throughout breakfast with no clear winner and we’re none the wiser as we gather in the quad an hour later.

  I’m as shocked as June and Jessie and everyone else when Kane Marques walks out onto the grass, wearing gray sweats and a form-hugging black t-shirt. We assumed he’d attended his meeting and left.

  He looks us over with dismissive arrogance. “You all know this is FT, right?”

  A hand shoots up. “Um, we don’t actually know what FT is.”

  Kane pushes a hand through his hair, his eyes narrowing on us. Possibly in disbelief. “Fitness Training.”

  That raises a chorus of Aahs and other mutterings amongst us.

  “PE?” Jessie snorts near my ear. “You’ve got to be kidding! Now I know what FT stands for. Freaking Torture.”

  Kane speaks louder to be heard, “You have fifteen minutes to go change. Those who don’t have suitable attire, follow me.”

  He walks off without checking to see who follows: Jessie, a handful of other girls and nearly all the boys.

  I grab Gabe by the edge of his shirt and yank him back. “You seriously didn’t bring any shorts and running shoes?”

  He extracts himself with a grin. “But they’re not guard issue, are they?”

  I let him go. “You are such a boy.”

  “You’re going to love me even harder when you see me in uniform.”

  That doesn’t deserve a response. I hold my laugh until he’s out of sight. Then I run to catch up to June.

  “I bet this is why they asked us all those questions about our health,” I say in a low voice. “They wanted to know if we were up for physical exercise. It wasn’t about your asthma at all.”

  “Yah, me,” she hisses under her breath and scurries ahead into the dorm.

  We have the room to ourselves. Georga is already suitably dressed in her shorts and sneakers and Rose went off with Kane.

  “I’m confused.” I shoot glances at June as I shrug out of my jeans and slip on a pair of loose shorts. “I thought you’d be relieved.”

  “Well, I’m not.” She drops to the floor and pulls a knee up to tie her laces. Glances at me. Sighs. “We’re not at school anymore, Senna. They’re already suspicious about my asthma. That woman will be onto me like a hound if she hears I’m making up flimsy excuses to get out of this fitness training thing.”

  “So just tell them the truth,” I say.

  She looks at me as if I’ve said something mad.

  I blow out a noisy breath. “Your asthma is a medical condition, not some dirty little secret. For goodness sake, June, you won’t be penalized for it.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Okay, okay.” I bring my battered running shoes with me and plop down beside her. This feels wrong, like I’m enabling her in the very worst way. But either I tell on her (which I can’t, that has to come from her) or I help. I’ll feel a lot more terrible if she collapses out there. “So how bad is it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your asthma,” I say. “What are we dealing with?”

  “We’re not dealing with anything,” she says feistily.

  “You made me part of this when you told me.”

  She finishes tying her laces and hugs her knees. “That was a mistake.”

  “Was it?” I have another thought on that. “All those years at school, you never said a word. You didn’t let it slip now by accident, June. Maybe you’re
done hiding, that’s why you blurted it out.”

  “Don’t psycho analyze me.” Her gaze slices to me, irritated, but I just keep looking at her and her scowl eases a bit. “I was flustered from that medical interview… I was scared and my mom’s not here, I can’t talk to her about it. I guess, maybe, I just needed one person here to know.”

  “So back to my question, what are we dealing with? If you run a mile, do you die or just struggle to catch your breath?” And I just heard myself. “I’m sorry, that came out harsher than—”

  She cuts my apology off with a wave of her hand. “I won’t die. My asthma isn’t severe, I just have to be careful. I haven’t had an attack in ages and…” She reaches under her pillow, brings out a small hemp pouch “…this usually helps.”

  I take the pouch and sniff. A potent whiff of eucalyptus pinches my nostrils.

  “A mixture of dried herbs,” June explains. “It’s quite effective.”

  “Then you’re going to keep it close.” I tuck the pouch into the pocket of her shorts, bite my lower lip in concentration as I look around for inspiration. It finds me with a smile. “And we’re switching bunks. From now on, you’re on top.”

  10

  KANE TAKES US THROUGH a gate in the fence, beyond our designated zone.

  “Are we even supposed to be out here?” Brendon O’Sullivan grumbles.

  Kane hears. “With permission, yes.”

  Even though we’re still inside the compound, stepping through that gate feels like a slice of freedom.

  We will walk for a couple of minutes, Kane tells us, to get our heartrate up, then we’ll transition into a steady jog. The paved road spears into the patchy shade of trees stacked along the base of Mount Claire and goes on for three quarters of a mile before turning into a dirt track. That’s our turnaround mark. One and a half miles. I can’t remember when I last jogged any distance.

  We’re straggling the rear. Kane is up in front leading the herd. I catch the occasional glimpse of him through the gaps.

  Jessie can’t get over the fact that he’s still here. “I mean, it’s odd, right? Surely the Guard has their own fitness instructors. It’s not like they had to bring a civilian in.”

  “Who cares?” Gabe throws an arm over my shoulder, as if we’re on a romantic stroll.

  I’ll never say it out loud, but he does look quite hot in the formfitting black shorts and t-shirt with the Ironcross crest.

  “What do you think we’re training for?” asks Chris.

  “A healthy lifestyle,” laughs Daniel. He gives Chris a pretty hard playful shove. “Idiot.”

  Chris shoves him back. “Asshole.”

  The group ahead of us picks up the pace, giving the two of them the perfect opportunity to chase after each other.

  Gabe’s arms slips from my shoulder. “Come on.”

  “You go.” I prod him after them. “I’ll catch up in a bit.”

  The guys all break into a sprint, overtaking everyone including Kane.

  Jessie hangs back with me and June. We fall so far behind, the rest are swallowed by shadows.

  Unfortunately, Kane is waiting in one of those shadows, jogging in place. When we reach him, he starts a slow backward jog. “Is there a problem here, ladies?”

  “I, um, I fell out of my bunk,” June hedges. “Well, I didn’t fall, exactly, I just had a hard landing. I think I, um, twisted my ankle.”

  Kane’s gaze drops to her ankle, noting her firm walking step. I said she should hobble, but June was scared that would get her an examination at the infirmary.

  “It’s not all that bad,” June says. “It’s not sprained or anything, I’m just being careful.”

  He turns an unimpressed look on me.

  “My breakfast hasn’t settled yet,” I tell him. “If I’d known what FT was, I wouldn’t have eaten so much.”

  She can’t know what’s really going on here, but that doesn’t stop Jessie from playing her part. “My bits and bobs bounce when I run,” she says, her expression deadpan. “It’s undignified and painful.”

  Kane’s eyes come back to me, a curious study, as if he’s decided I’m the main troublemaker here. “Is this some sort of mutiny?”

  I blink at him innocently. “I have no idea what you mean.”

  He blows out a breath. “Fine, but I expect you to walk the route, no matter how long it takes,” he says and turns from us to jog off.

  “Well, that went okay,” June says.

  “Better than okay,” I assure her. Thanks to Jessie, I realize we don’t need elaborate excuses. We just have to say no, we’re not comfortable with the exercise regime.

  “So?” says Jessie. “Is this a mutiny?”

  I glance at June for permission to share the truth, but she squints a definitive don’t you dare at me. I blink at Jessie and smile. “I have no idea what you mean.”

  Jessie laughs and lets it go.

  We’ve been walking for about a half hour when the others pass us on their way back. Red-faced, sweating and panting. I get a tired wave from Gabe, he doesn’t seem to have the breath to ask what happened to me catching up. We also get some stony stares, which I interpret as happy volunteers for our rebellion if Kane makes us do this all over again tomorrow morning.

  Not long after, we hear the sound of falling water. Pushing through the wild overgrowth on our right, we come across a magical copse. The water’s bleeding from a ravine cut into the mountain, splashing into a deep blue pool which in turn feeds into a thin stream. On one end, a giant willow drapes the pool. The other end laps onto slates of smooth rock.

  “That looks so inviting,” exclaims Jessie. “It’s just begging us to come on in.”

  I dip my hand in the water. It comes out numb. “It’s freezing.”

  Not prepared to take my word, Jessie goes down to test for herself.

  “That’s just…” She whips her hand to air dry it “…wrong. Hey, so here’s a thought. Kane’s not here to know whether we walk the entire route or not. We could just as easily hang out here for an hour.”

  “I second that,” June quips.

  “Me third,” I say without a shred of guilt, eyeing a sunbaked slate of rock with my name on it.

  11

  I’VE ALWAYS THOUGHT of the library as some sort of four dimensional crossroads where Ironcross meets a long lost world. The redbrick building stands across from the town hall, two floors of bookshelves navigated by narrow aisles, but the real magic happens in the basement vault. When I think of the computer housed there, I think of a laptop sitting on a solitary table, bathed in hallowed light.

  I know that’s just my imagination, though.

  That computer must be massive to store every book ever written, every film ever produced, every song ever sung, every scrap of knowledge every gained, every word of news ever broadcast, every opinion every postulated.

  Or so we’re taught.

  Only the librarians and the Alders know for sure.

  Due to limited resources, the librarians choose only six new books to be printed every month. Due to censorship, the selection is ultimately approved (or rejected) by the Alders. Not that I’m complaining. They do an excellent job and it’ll take me years to read my way through the Women Fiction and Contemporary Romance sections—my favorites.

  We also get one new movie each month, although favorites are recycled so it’s not always brand new. The movie is screened every Wednesday and Friday night in the school hall to give everyone an opportunity to see it.

  We have a radio channel, too. It plays music 24/7 but there’s a catch—very few people actually own a personal radio to receive it. There are a couple of public places around town with speakers, like the Green Man off Main Street where people go to drink, Lacey’s Diner where people congregate for the music and certainly not the food, and the Ice Cream Parlor.

  For a farm girl like me, music is a rare pleasure and my heart kicks into high gear when I step into the recreation room that evening. The lights are dimmed and a
rock ballad pumps from speakers mounted on the walls. The Foosball and Table Tennis has been pushed to one side to open up the central space.

  “Oh, my…” Jessie fans herself. “They’re romancing us.”

  I don’t care what they’re doing. My feet are tapping and I’m delighted when Gabe swoops me into his arms. We’re the first to take the dancefloor, but certainly not the last.

  Gabe wraps me close, my cheek resting against his heartbeat as we sway to the slow beat. I’ve never danced in Gabe’s arms before, in any guy’s arms if I don’t count Chris (which I don’t.)

  We were young and restless

  The husky, timbered lyrics of the song resonates with me, deep within the marrow of my bones.

  I guess nothing can last forever, forever

  My body feels cocooned in earthy warmth, my heart cocooned in cotton wool. This feels so right, so perfect, so complete, one of those moments that could last me a lifetime—and may need to. We don’t know what our future holds, but tonight I don’t feel sad or uncertain, I feel loved and safe.

  By the end of the third song, a whole lot more couples have joined in. Since we arrived at GHO, we’ve mostly stuck to our groups. Now people are mingling on and off the dance floor—specifically guys and girls.

  That’s the power of music.

  Or maybe that’s just the power of the kick up the butt the Alders’ gave us tonight.

  Gabe dances me off the floor and I spot an unlikely couple moving to the slow beat in each other’s arms. “Chris and Rose?”

  “That’s never going to happen.”

  “I’m watching and it’s happening.”

  Gabe looks and dismisses them with, “Rose has been after him for ages. Chris just didn’t run fast enough tonight,” as we fall into one of the bean bags littered about the room.

  Well, Gabe falls into the bean bag, I fall into him. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”

  “Me bad. You good.” His lips brush mine, there and gone before the kiss has time to start its own rumor. He rests his head back to look at me with a half-baked grin.