“Whadda you lookin’ at?” I snarl, and he backs off in a hurry, holding his shooter out in front of him like I’m about to pounce on him. The other merely flicks the twig he’s chewing on at the cage and wanders casually back to his post. Seems I don’t bother him at all.
Finn approaches me with a quiet, “Tara?”
“What?” I yell, and he takes an involuntary step back at my show of temper. Instantly feeling ashamed at scaring him, I mutter a contrite, “Sorry,” but he only keeps staring at me in uncertainty. Jax by now has decided he’s done with all of us and sits in the corner of the cage, legs crossed and his back to us. Which is fine by me. Tater clears his throat.
“Hmph … yes, well, I suggest we do as the giant says and get some rest. Night has fallen, and we will think much clearer in the morning after we sleep.”
Don’t know who Tater’s trying to fool. None of us are going to get any sleep tonight, and I’m too wound up to rest. Too full of anger and burning with questions. But they are questions I need to ask without Jax around to give his input. So since there ain’t nuthin’ else I can do, I settle against the side of the cage as far away from Jax as I can get. Finn comes to sit hesitantly beside me, and I take off the heavy jacket, motioning him closer so we can both use it as a blanket. At first he don’t want to come any closer. I can tell.
“It’s okay, Finn,” I whisper, giving him a ghost of a smile. “I ain’t gonna bite.”
Finally deciding I could be trusted again, he scoots closer and I wrap the jacket around the both of us.
We sit in silence, listening to the sounds of the raiders go about their business off in the distance. The smell of an evening meal cooking wafts by us, and Finn squirms a little.
“That smells real good, Tara,” he says.
“Aye, it does,” I say.
“I’m hungry.”
“I know, Finn.”
We’re quiet for a bit more.
“What’s gonna happen to us, Tara?”
I think about lying to the boy. To tell him there ain’t nuthin’ to worry about, and that everything is going to work out just fine. But before I can say a word, a loud wailing not far from the camp reaches our ears. Finn bolts upright, and out of the corner of my eye I can see our two guards jump to their feet and grab their weapons.
“That’s Cat,” he whispers to me. “She found us.”
“You sure?” I say, scared for what that might mean. Hopefully, she isn’t about to attack the camp. We don’t need her getting fired on by the raiders.
“Aye, that’s her all right. I know the sound of her bellyachin’. She’s letting us know she’s there, and she’s waiting for us.”
He settles back underneath the jacket, and I can feel his scrawny little frame strumming with happiness at knowing his beast is okay. I cain’t help feeling a little relieved myself, although what the cat could do against an army of raiders I ain’t sure. But just knowing she’s out there still gives me some measure of comfort. The wailing stops finally, and our guards settle back down, although I notice Hat Head keeps his shooter in his hands. Cat’s howling has rattled him. Good, I think. I hope he’s as scared as we are. Finn stays quiet for so long I think he’s asleep, but then he speaks.
“Everything’s gonna be okay, Tara. I know it. With Cat watchin’ out for us, and you bein’ a New Blood and all. Tater says it’s a good thing, so it must be. Yup, everything’s gonna be okay.”
I cain’t help but smile to myself in the dark. He sounded so sure, so positive. A total turnaround from his earlier outlook. I don’t say nuthin’, just move closer to him so I can rest my chin on the top of his head. If only I could believe that, Finn, I think. But how can it be okay? I just found out I was some sort of freak of nature from an idiot who, it seems, would be happier to see my head on a spike than be stuck in a cage with me. And we’re on our way to be turned over to a madman. All in all, I’ve had better days. But I don’t burst the boy’s bubble. I just sit quietly with his head resting against my shoulder ‘til I hear the deep, even breaths that tell me he’s asleep. Good, I think. At least one of us should rest.
I fall to my knees on the hard ground and grab eagerly for the tin of water dangling in front of my face. I don’t even try to fight the raiders tying me to the fallen, dead tree like I did the last evening. There isn’t any use, and I’m just so thirsty. The water is warm and tinny, but I drink from it deeply and it eases my parched throat.
Without warning a body falls on me, sending the tin flying right out of my grip and spilling its precious contents into the dry earth. From the muffled cussin’ I know it’s Jax, and I push at him angrily with my tied hands.
“Get … off … me,” I grunt, pushing at his weight, and he falls awkwardly face-first in the dirt beside me. His own tied wrists offer no help in cushioning his fall, and it seems to delight our captors immensely. Their laughter at his misfortune is met with his icy glare, but he don’t say nuthin’ as he struggles to his knees. They watch still laughing ‘til he rights himself, then three of them drag him back to my side and lash him to the same tree I’m tied to. Tater is quickly tied as well, but he manages to reach the water tin before it can be kicked away by any of our numerous guards. I blow the hair that has come loose from my braid out of my eyes and look for Finn. I spot him being lifted off of Winnie’s back, his hands tied just like the rest of us.
We’ve been on the move, non-stop, for two days now towards the exchange with the Prezedant’s men. Me, Jax, and Tater have been walking, tied behind Busher’s horse, but at least the raider leader had taken pity on Finn and his injured leg and let him ride the mule. He ain’t taking no chances though. There must be at least ten or more of ‘em accompanying us, plus the scouts and guards he had posted in the hills. I don’t rightly know if he expects the threat to come from us or the men he’s meeting, but I know we ain’t no threat. New Blood. Hah, what a joke. No matter how hard I try to summon this power, this “Chi,” it don’t happen. Oh the anger and hatred is there all right, but there ain’t no fire in my blood or buzzing in my ears. There ain’t nuthin’ I can do except follow along like some trussed-up hog.
Cat has been trailing after us, and a couple of times she’s even attempted to attack the camp but they chase her off with their shooters, much to Finn’s dismay. They ain’t nicked her though ‘cause she’s still off to the side, wailing and rattling all their nerves. They cain’t understand why they’re being stalked by a devil cat, and I see their glances and hear their whispers about me, about the New Blood and how I must be controlling the she devil. It makes me smile. Good Cat, I think.
“You all right, Finn?” I say once they have us all settled away. They’ve tied us together, all in a line along the tree’s carcass. Tater, then Finn, then me, and Jax. Even our feet are bound. They ain’t taking no chance of any of us getting free and making a run for it during the night. Finn looks up at my question. I can tell the past couple of days have been hard on him; he looks tired. His face is stark white, and there are dark bruises under his eyes but he gives me a crooked grin.
“Aye, I’m fine except for my unmentionables. Ridin’ on a mule all day ain’t easy on a man’s parts.”
I know our situation don’t warrant it, and maybe it’s just a mixture of exhaustion and shock, but I cain’t help but laugh. It even draws a low chuckle out of Jax, and I stare at him in disbelief. Did I just hear that? He can actually laugh? If these past few days had been any indication, I figured all he knew how to do was scowl and cuss and hurl insults. Besides that, we ain’t heard a single word come out of his mouth. He catches me staring and raises a dark brow. Hurriedly, I look away and busy myself with fussing with the boy’s ropes.
“Well, I’m glad you three can find humor in our situation,” Tater huffs, frowning at me from under his bushy brows. He has been unusually quiet over these past two days too, and I realize it has to do with me and my condition. The whole idea of him staying on at the camp for the raider girl’s amusement was totally thrown
to the wind at my almost killing the girl. Instead, he found himself still a prisoner and on his way to certain death at the hands of a madman along with the rest of us. I can see where his annoyance with me may stem from.
“You’re right, Tater, and I’m truly sorry I got you dragged into this mess. You and Finn both,” I say, instantly feeling ashamed for my laughter. I ignore Jax’s mocking snort at my words. The raiders look over at us talking amongst ourselves, but they don’t seem too concerned. After two full days of no sign of any “powers” on my part, they don’t seem to jump at my every move anymore. They’re paying more attention to setting up their campfire and cooking their evening meal than they are to us. Tied and bound as we are, we don’t seem to offer them no threat.
Tater seems a little taken aback at my apology. The look of surprise on his face, coupled with his wild, gray hair blowing ‘round his head, almost makes me want to laugh again. But I don’t. The half-man is right; there ain’t one thing about our predicament that should be making any of us laugh. And if last night was any indication, we’re in for another long and uncomfortable night. I try the best I can with my bound hands and feet to get closer to Finn so as we can prop up against each other’s backs for sleeping.
Cat, unfortunately, chooses that moment to start her howling again, and Finn bolts upright, causing me to almost fall over. He cain’t contain the sharp cry that escapes from his lips when Busher orders two of his men to “Go find that hell cat and get rid of it for good.”
“She’ll be fine, Finn,” I whisper to the boy as we watch the raiders leave in search of Cat. “She’s smart, and she’ll smell ‘em approachin’ well before they can get anywhere near her.”
“Tara’s right, Finn,” Tater adds, and Finn’s fearful gaze darts back and forth between us ‘til finally he seems to accept our words as truth and settles back uneasily against the tree trunk.
“And no need to apologize, my dear.” This is directed to me I think, though he’s still looking at Finn. “Maybe a little joviality and whimsy is what we all need at the moment to keep our minds off of the severity of our situation. As my dear mother would say, we are indeed between a rock and a hard place. But I have been in many strange predicaments during my years of travel. Sometimes the unexplainable happens when you least expect it, eh?”
As scared as Finn is for his beast, he cain’t contain his gasp of wonder as Tater’s tied hands deftly reach for the boy’s ear and pulls out a white feather. It truly surprises me that Tater seemed to care enough to distract the boy from his fear.
“How’d you do that, Tater?” Finn says, mystified.
Tater merely winks and whispers, “Magic,” as he tickles the boy’s chin with the feather, causing him to snicker.
“Well maybe you can use some of that magic, old man, and get us out of here. Our time is running short. Instead of a feather from the boy’s ear, can you pull a knife from thin air?” The amount of talking coming out of our moody companion surprises me. He ain’t said more than two words in the past two days, and I expect Tater to be upset at his harsh tone but he merely sighs in defeat.
“Ah, I’m sorry to say that I cannot do.”
Jax just grunts at Tater’s answer, but his words have unsettled me some.
“What do you mean our time is runnin’ short? What do you know that we don’t?” For the first time since I have known him, the light blue eyes look at me with more than utter contempt and disgust. If I had to guess, I would say he looks more worried than anything.
“We’re getting close to coming out of the mountains. Closer to his lands. We have at best a day—possibly two—before the Army will be here to collect us,” he says.
“How do you know that?” I question.
“I know this area. It’s on route to my own village. Gray Valley is maybe only four or five days ride north of here.”
This interests me some. “You came from a village? So there are others … your family who know you’re missin’? Will they be searchin’ for you then?” I feel a little hope flicker at his words, but the flat look on his face destroys any expectations of a rescue.
“Nah. No one’s gonna come looking anytime soon. I don’t have no other family besides my ma, and she’s used to me disappearing for days at a time. I was on a hunting trip. Sometimes, I can be gone for as much as two weeks. She’s not gonna start worrying for a bit yet,” he says.
We all fall quiet at this, Jax’s words extinguishing that tiny spark of hope for a rescue party. If we’re going to get away, it’s going to have to be of our own doing. And we ain’t got nuthin’ remotely close to an escape plan. Frustrated with myself and the whole situation, I give a hard tug on the ropes binding my hands and have to bite my lip to stop from crying out at the pain it causes me.
How the hell did we end up in this situation? I think. How the hell did everything go so wrong? Find Lily in Littlepass. That was all I had to do, yet here we are. Prisoners and on our way to see a madman. And Finn … he don’t deserve to be involved in this. Why hadn’t I left him back where I found him? At least he had been safe there. What was I thinking dragging him into this mess? As if he can hear what I’m thinking, he looks up at me and smiles that gap-toothed grin of his like he’s trying to reassure me, and I feel the guilt envelop me twofold. I’m almost glad for the distraction of our raider guards as they bring us each a tin cup of hot broth, our only meal of the day.
“Broth again,” Finn mutters in disgust as soon as the guards walk away, but it don’t stop him from downing his hungrily, almost in one gulp and then start licking the cup. I take a sip of my own, watching him try to get every last drop, then pass him my cup.
“Here, have mine. I’m not hungry,” I say, lying through my teeth, but his obvious hunger bothers me.
“You sure?” he asks with hopeful eyes. My grunted “Aye,” is all it takes for him to eagerly lap up mine as well.
“What I wouldn’t give for my ma’s wolfling stew right now,” Jax sighs wistfully as he tosses his own empty cup aside. “Or a big platter of her sweet corn and boiled snips.”
My stomach rumbles loudly at Jax’s mention of his ma’s cooking, and I snap at him. “Really?” I say. “You suddenly choose to talk to us, and you talk ‘bout food to a bunch of starvin’ people? Were you dropped on your head as a baby, or were you just born stupid?”
His light blue eyes narrow in anger at me, and I’m sure Finn’s muffled snicker don’t help matters none but Tater intervenes smoothly and turns the conversation before he can respond.
“Gray Valley was it you said, Jax? That’s where you’re from? I have never been there in my travels, surprisingly. What’s it like?”
At first, I don’t think he’s going to answer Tater. His eyes still regard me with hot fury, and I almost welcome his angry outburst. At least it would be something to take my mind off of my stomach eating itself. But just like that, he dismisses me and turns to overlook the raider’s campfire.
“It was a good place to live … once,” he says quietly, almost to himself.
“And it’s not anymore?” Tater questions again. “Why is that?”
“Why is any place not a good place to live anymore?” Jax says in contempt. “It belongs to the Prezedant now. What little we are able to grow or hunt, the majority of it goes to him and his lot. Same as anywhere, I guess. We may not live in his strongholds, but we are under his oppression just the same.”
Finn, done with his second cup of broth, belches loudly and joins in on the conversation. “Is Gray Valley a big place, Jax? Is it as big as Littlepass? Tater says a multitod … a multitad … Tater says a lot of people live there, more than he even knows. Is Gray Valley the same?”
I’m shocked to see the corner of Jax’s mouth twitch in almost—but not quite—a smile.
“No, not that many. There are maybe a hundred or so. There were more, but we had … an incident a few years back and some of our people died, my pa included.” Any trace of his earlier smile disappears almost instantly at his
own words, and the steely eyes rake over me like it was my fault. Why is he looking at me like that? What did I do?
“I’m real sorry about your pa, Jax. My pa died too … and so did my ma …, ” Finn trails off, his voice quivering with emotion, and unbelievably, I think I can see compassion in Jax’s sky blue eyes as he looks at the boy’s downcast face. So he did possess a heart after all.
“Everybody I ever knowed died except Cat, but then Tara found us, and we found Tater. And now we’re on a mission to find Tara’s kin.”
Jax turns away from the boy and gives his usual scornful snort at this. So much for any compassion, any chink in his shell I thought I’d witnessed.
“The only mission you all are on right now is to survive the Army. And good luck with that. I have never heard of anybody tangling with the Army and living to tell the tale,” he says.
“Aye, then. Thanks for that little tidbit, Jax. We all needed to hear that,” I say, angry at him again for the new fear showing on Finn’s face at his words. Why’s he always such a mule turd?
“I’m just speaking the truth,” he grunts. “It’s not looking good for any of us.”
“Yes, well, as much as I hate to admit it, Tara, Jax is right,” Tater says. “We do have a bit of a problem on our hands. We are indeed in a tight spot. I suggest, girl, if you have any use of your powers whatsoever, this would be the time to use them.”
“You think I ain’t tried?” I snap back at Tater then clamp my lips shut as a couple of the guards glance over at my heated words. Once they see we ain’t going anywhere though, they go back to their meal.
“I got nuthin’,” I say, a little lower this time so as not to draw attention. We don’t need them watching our every move.
“A useless New Blood, as if there’s any other kind,” Jax mutters, and the grunt of pain I get from kicking him in the shin don’t give me near enough satisfaction.
“If you insist on being a part of this conversation, Jax, then at least make your contribution worthwhile.” Even Tater is vexed with his constant insults. It somehow makes me feel better. “And as my dear mother would suggest, ‘If you have nothing good to say, then don’t say anything at all.’”
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