Before I can respond to her puzzling words, we’re interrupted by a young girl, maybe my own age, as she starts gathering the stew bowls. I hand her mine, and she bows her head as she takes the offering. I notice the reddish sores on her skin. Once she is out of earshot, I cain’t help but ask ‘cause I need to know.
“What’s wrong with ‘em? What sickness do they carry?”
Orakel shakes her head. “It is no sickness that comes naturally, child. They were given those pox marks on purpose-like.”
Her words shock me.
“Who would do such a thing?” I say, horrified, but it’s surprisingly Tater who answers.
“They are refugees from Skytown, are they not?” he says.
Orakel leans back in her chair and studies Tater with shrewd eyes. She’s trying not to show it, but I can tell she’s taken aback by his question.
“Aye, that they are. And what do you know of this, little man?”
He shrugs and takes a sip of his tea. “I have heard things. Rumors about experimentation being carried out by the Prezedant. Experiments that end badly and leave his subjects strangely marked,” Tater says, answering Orakel.
Her loud, “Hah,” rattles us all, and the fist she slams on the table makes the tin cups all wobble, but they don’t fall. “Marked? Is that what they call it? Try deformed and diseased and minds so damaged that madness is all they know. And they are the lucky ones. Marked.” She snorts the last word with derision.
“The Prezedant did this to them? But why?” I cain’t even begin to understand the reasoning for something so cruel.
“Because he is the maddest of them all,” Orakel says. “His whole life he has been obsessed with hunting your kind, New Bloods. Why? No one can say. Once he has found one, though, they are never seen again, that we do know. He has brought your kind to the point of extinction, I’m afraid. There haven’t been any true New Bloods for years now, not any possessing Chi anyway. So what do you do if you can no longer find the object of your burning desire? You try to create it yourself. His … experiments, as your friend refers to them number in the hundreds, maybe more. Most end in death for the fortunate ones. Some end up like the ones you see here, deformed and disfigured. But none yet have ended in what he is so desperately searching for or so I have been told.”
“Is it true what they say about him, Orakel? Is he really magical and hundreds of years old?” Finn, who had been real quiet up ‘til now, speaks, and his question makes her cackle again.
“Mayhap it is, boy. Mayhap it ain’t. I could say the little man over there has a boil on his arse the size of a toadie. That don’t make it so.”
This gets a chuckle from Jax and Finn, but Tater ain’t finding it so funny.
I’m still too full of questions to get any amusement out of this either.
“Why, Orakel? Why does he need New Bloods so badly?” I say. “And why seemingly wipe them out on one hand and then try to create his own on the other? It don’t make a lick of sense.”
She shrugs. “Like I said, child, no one knows what he does with them, but I’m guessing it isn’t anything pleasant. And he’s a madman, as crazy as they come. He don’t need no reason.”
This coming from the queen of the crazies is kind of funny.
“So you give shelter to the ones that get away?” I say.
She nods and shoos the tall woman away who’s trying to refill her cup.
“The ones we can help. If they are lucky enough to escape, to find their way to us. They are mostly always young’uns that much we do know. Most of the time, there isn’t anything we can do for them. They pass on quickly to meet their gods. But sometimes, if they’re strong enough, we can nurse them back to health, physically anyways. Mentally, well, we aren’t sure if they can’t remember what’s happened to them, or they choose not to remember the horrors they’ve endured.”
It’s starting to make sense to me now—some of it anyways. Why he sent his men into the sand lands. He was looking for New Bloods. And he takes the young’uns on the off chance they may be what he is looking for or at least more fodder for his experiments. I desperately hope Tater is right, and my kin were sold off as slaves or put to work in the iron mines. It would be a much better fate than becoming a diseased, mad creature. Just that thought alone fills me with despair, but I push it down deep. I cain’t think of that—not now, not with everything else I’ve heard. What the old woman is saying, what she’s telling me, it’s overwhelming, and the weight of it crushes me. But there’s one more thing I need to know.
“What exactly is a New Blood? What exactly do you believe I am?” I whisper to her, and all my fears, my frustrations, my anxieties, it all comes out in that one burning question. It’s like she understands my inner turmoil, my need to know, and she leaves her chair and hobbles to my side. Taking my hand in her wrinkled one, she stares at me fiercely.
“You, my child, are hope. A New Blood, born of the land, chosen by the gods, able to heal and purify and repair all that has been destroyed. Our world—what the settlers did to it with their wars and their plagues—it was left in ruins. Our kind nearly wiped out, unable to survive in what was left after The Shift. But then the gods made the New Bloods. Stronger, better beings than us, able to withstand this harsh world, to thrive in it almost. You and your kind are the reason we still exist. It is said that your Chi, the power that comes from within, it is a part of the gods themselves. You are a symbol of all that is pure and good, and that is why the Prezedant fears and reveres your kind so. You can heal this world and bring back the light to everything he has worked so hard to keep in darkness for in that lies his power over the people.”
I stare into her feverish eyes, and for a moment, she has me truly convinced I am something special. That I could be the one to bear truth to their prophecy. Then a harsh laugh from Jax breaks her spell.
“That’s a load of mule shite if I ever heard it. Tara may be a New Blood, but she’s just a mutie with a different name. A bit stronger than most and a lot more irritating, but a mutie all the same. She’s no earth healer and no symbol of ‘pure goodness’ any more than I am.”
“And yet you follow her willingly and without coercion.” She don’t take her eyes off of me, but her words are directed towards Jax. “That in itself speaks volumes, boy. You are a true believer; you just don’t know it yet.”
“I know that you are one crazy old bitc—”
“Jax,” Tater interjects smoothly. “I think it’s time we thanked Orakel for her hospitality and her words of wisdom, but I think we should be on our way. Get back aboveground. I think it would make us all feel much better.”
I can hear Jax whispering to Tater about Orakel’s sanity, but like her, I pay no heed. I still have questions, and this old lady standing in front of me is the only one right now who has the answers I seek.
“Jax is right,” I say to her. “I’m not any healer. I have done things, things I cain’t explain … things that terrify me to no end, but I ain’t got no control over ‘em. How am I supposed to do these things you people believe I am capable of? I don’t know how to fix or heal anything. I don’t think I’m the one you’re waitin’ for, Orakel.”
She smiles at me then, and in her eyes, I see the sparkling reflection of the dozens of lit torches ‘round us, and it gives them an almost unearthly glow.
“Don’t rush it, child. It will come. We have been awaiting the arrival of a true New Blood for many years. Some had even given up believing that your kind would ever appear again, yet here you are in the flesh. The prophecy will be fulfilled, and the darkness will be defeated of that I have no doubt.” She stops talking and looks over at my companions, studying them with her piercing eyes, her head tilted to the side as if she’s listening to something that the rest of us can’t hear. Finally, she gives a slight nod and leans in to whisper in my ear words that make my stomach drop. A numbness seeps over me, and a foul taste fills my mouth.
“True followers they may be, child, but be careful with wh
om you share your secrets. One of the three will betray you greatly. It will be so.”
7
Littlepass
Betrayal. That’s all I’ve been able to think about, all that’s occupied my mind ever since we’d left the city of iron bones and Orakel’s whispered words. Days of watching my companions, wondering if her warning of betrayal was true. Wondering if any of what she said had been true. Sometimes, I feel more confused than ever from what Orakel had told me. Her explanation of what I was expected to be, of what I was expected to do … Well, it left me with more questions than answers. Did she truly believe I could do as their prophecy said? Or was it all just a bunch of hokum like Jax believed? Talbert and Beanie seemed to think there was truth to it. They had wanted to accompany us on our travel to Littlepass, insisting that the mistress of light needed their protection, much to the dismay of the others. I don’t know who had protested the loudest—Finn, Jax, or Tater—but I had politely refused their protection and said our goodbyes. They had been truly disappointed at my refusal, but thankfully, they had heeded me. The one thing I do not need is more craziness in my life.
I sit staring at our campfire, keeping watch over the others as they sleep, Cat at my side. I feel her purring with pleasure as I scratch her ears and head, her fur still holding the warmth of the day’s heat. I lift her paw to have a look at her injuries. They are healing quite nicely. Whatever Orakel had given us to treat them had worked well. I have to thank her for that at least.
I drop Cat’s paw and turn my attention back to staring at the low campfire, my mind wandering again. If Orakel’s calculations were correct, we would be upon Littlepass in the early morning. I ain’t quite sure how I feel about that. Littlepass meant finding Lily, and Lily meant answers, and by the gods, I have a lot of questions. But it also meant the end of the journey for them at least. No more Finn or Cat or Tater … or Jax. I would have to say my goodbyes to this motley little crew of travelers. It don’t sit well.
And do I truly want to hear those answers Lily supposedly has for me? Am I ready to hear what she has to say? Maybe the only question I need to ask—the only question that I need to know the answer to—is how do I find Ben? That’s the most important thing right now, isn’t it? That’s the whole point of my journey, the whole point of finding Lily, to help me get my kin back. The rest of it … of them … doesn’t matter. And if Orakel is to be believed, one of them will betray me anyway, so why should I worry about any of this?
More confused than ever, I lift my flower from inside my tunic and hold its warmth to my lips. Shizen, Ben. If there’s ever a time when I needed to talk to you, for you to tell me everything’s going to be okay, well, now’s that time.
“I will find you, Ben,” I whisper against my flower as if doing so will help my promise to reach his ears across the distance separating us, wherever he may be. Tears prickle at the corners of my eyes as a wave of loneliness and self-pity threatens to overwhelm me.
“You okay?” The unexpected voice confuses me, and for a split second, I believe it to be Ben. Then the shadowy figure moves into the firelight, and I drop my flower back inside my tunic and turn my head so Jax doesn’t see my moment of weakness.
“Aye,” I say gruffly as he sits cross-legged on the other side of Cat.
“Well, why you talking to yourself then?” he says.
“I wasn’t talkin’—” I start to protest but realize he’d caught me red-handed, so I change the subject, snapping at him in irritation. “Why are you up? It ain’t time for your watch yet.”
He shrugs, staring into the low flames of the fire and running his hand through Cat’s fur like I’d been doing. Cat arches her back with pleasure, accepting his touch. Accepting him. When did this happen? When did Cat accept him as one of us?
“Can’t sleep,” he says, not seeming to notice my displeasure at Cat’s behavior. “I keep dreaming about those crazy bastards we just left behind. Especially that tall, thin one.” He gives an exaggerated shiver. “I’ll have night terrors for years.”
I don’t want to, but I find my lips twitching in amusement at his words.
“Really? She was the one who scared you? I kinda think she was sweet on you. I think Sky maybe has some competition,” I say.
“Ha ha, not funny, New Blood, not at all,” he says, scowling at me. “Besides, you’re one to talk. The way Talbert was following you around like a lovesick young’un, I thought he was gonna cry when you turned down his offer to take us to Littlepass. I think you broke his heart.”
Is Jax actually teasing me? Did he actually have a sense of humor?
“You wanna hear something weirder?” I say, going with it and grinning at him. “Just before we left, he gave me that creepy skull from ‘round his neck. Said it would bring me good luck. I was gonna throw it away, but who knows? Maybe it will.”
Jax arches his brows and stares at me in disgust. “You kept it?”
“Aye, it’s in my slingbag,” I say.
“Well, that’s just creepy as hell. Sure wasn’t good luck for the poor animal it came from. Best be careful about that though. Some may take that sort of thing to be a betrothal gift. Missus Talbert. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
“Bite your tongue,” I say, giving a mock shudder of horror. “Now, I’m gonna have night terrors.”
He gives a low chuckle as I hand him a tin cup of the root tea I have hanging over the fire.
“Here. Even though it serves you right now to have night terrors, this will help you sleep.”
He nods a thanks and sips carefully at the hot liquid. We sit in silence for a bit, just enjoying the tea and the peacefulness of the night. It’s almost nice. But then Orakel’s words snake their way into my thoughts again. Is Jax the one Orakel spoke of? Would he be the one to betray me? Stop it! I scold myself. Stop raising doubt. She is just a crazy old lady. Besides, Jax is about to part ways with us. Didn’t matter. I would never see him again, so how could he betray me?
“Why are you here, Jax?” I ask the question that has been eating at me ever since his unexpected arrival in the dead city.
He looks at me, confused. “I told you, I can’t sleep—”
“No, I mean why did you follow us? Why are you takin’ us to Littlepass? And don’t give me the story ‘bout an owed debt. You should be home in Gray Valley with your ma and Sky, gettin’ ready for your wedded ceremony. Livin’ a normal life. Why are you here with us?”
After his earlier teasing, I ain’t expecting the harsh snort he gives me at my question.
“Normal life? Is that what you think we have in Gray Valley? No such thing. Breaking our backs working the dead soil, praying to the gods to get enough harvest to pay our taxes so the Army doesn’t punish us. Hiding the extra meat or grain we have managed to hoard away so our families can make it through to the next season without starving. Living in fear for the children, wondering if at any moment they will be taken away from us by that madman. Fearing to have children of your own. Is that what you call normal?”
He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture I’ve come to realize he did when most agitated. I want to tell him I’m sorry. I’m sorry to have brought it up. I hadn’t realized. But he goes on talking.
“Hell, I don’t know. Maybe I just wanted to get away from that. To get away from Sky, her talk of our betrothal, her talk of a family. How can I disappoint her?” he sighs a little. “Maybe I’m here because of Finn. I kinda see a little bit of me in him: a lost, lonely little kid wondering why things had to happen but trying to deal in the best way he can. You know what he asked me the other day?” I shake my head at his question. “He wanted to know did I think my pa and his pa were hunting and fishing together in the afterlife. Having adventures … friends like him and me.”
I laugh a little at this. That was such a Finn thing to say. Jax looks up at my laughter, his eyes burning feverishly from the firelight, and the laughter dies on my lips.
“Or maybe I’m here because of you. Ma was right.
You remind me of Jenna so much. Maybe in some strange way, I believe that by helping you, I can make it up to my sister, make up for failing her. I stood aside and let her die. I watched it all happen, and I didn’t do anything. Maybe I don’t want the same thing to happen to you. I owe you that much …,” he trails off and drops his gaze back to the fire.
However I’d expected Jax to answer my question, it was not with such brutal honesty. I’m speechless at his words. Tongue-tied as always, unable to express how I feel at his admission. Is he saying that he cares about us? That he truly cares what happens to us? To me? I should be thanking him for his honest answers, telling him how grateful I am for his help, but all I do is show how uncomfortable I am by saying, “I ain’t Jenna, Jax.”
He laughs, but there ain’t no humor in it. “No, you are much more irritating and annoying and a damn sight more mule-headed. Trust me, that much I do know.”
I shake my head at him. “No. You don’t get it. I don’t want you helpin’ us ‘cause you think you owe me something, Jax. What happened was out of your control. You don’t owe it to Jenna, and you sure as hell don’t owe it to me. Your debt is paid, Jax.”
He looks at me, confused.
“Your debt is paid,” I say again. “Not only did you help us back at the iron city, but we made it to Littlepass alive and well, just like you promised. Thank you for all you’ve done, but you may as well make your way back to Gray Valley in the mornin’. Gods speed on your safe return home.”
For some reason, his admission is scaring me, and I respond in the only way I know how. Change the subject and make it less personal. The old expression passes my lips automatically, and I hold my hand out to him in a goodwill gesture. He looks down at my outstretched hand, ignoring it as his eyes come to rest on my face again, and I can see the disbelief in them.
“Really? That’s how it’s going to be? You ask me a question, and I answer it in the most soul-bearing way I can, and you want to shake my hand? You’re a real waterfall of emotion, you know that, Tara?” he says, and I know sarcasm when I hear it.
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