by A. G. Henley
The rock amplifies sounds inside, but it seems to swallow most of the noise from outside; I can barely hear the rain striking the ground. Three sets of footsteps echo and then disappear as Peree, Bear, and Kai leave.
Derain’s rumble and Amarina’s high birdsong lead me over to the fire. Moray and his brothers talk in low voices somewhere on the other side of the flames.
“Mirii, will you help me, please?” Amarina asks.
I reach out a hand and find the wall they must be sitting against, opposite to the one I’ve been following to the back of the cave, and I slide down beside them. An unpleasant, spicy herbal scent makes me sneeze.
“Calendula?” I guess, eyes watering.
“Very good,” Amarina says. “It is a poultice for Derain. Hold it on his hand while I secure it.”
When I find his hand, it's as hot as a boiling pot. I feel along to his wrist; the skin there is warmer than it should be, too. I swallow.
“Derain, your hand—”
Amarina makes a small sound of acknowledgement. She helps me position the poultice, and I hold it until she begins to wrap. He sucks in a breath as if the gentle pressure hurts. I’m sure Amarina’s doing the best she can, but she’s not a healer. He needs Nerang.
“It is not worse,” he says.
“But it’s not better,” Amarina responds.
I gnaw my lip. “Should you… go back?”
“No. I can’t return to Arika without our guru.”
He presses something soft and lumpy into my hand: worn cloth, straw poking through seams, misshapen arms and legs. I lift it to my nose and smile sadly. “You brought Bega.”
“Can you smell Kora?” Derain’s voice is urgent. “I have been keeping her doll close, but I can’t smell my daughter now.” His voice cracks, leaking tears.
I close my eyes and sniff the doll again, this time isolating the faint scent of Kora.
“She’s still here.” I deliver her back to Derain’s trembling hand.
His shoulder shakes against mine. I slide an arm around him, offering him the only thing I can—my companionship—in his grief. I touch Amarina’s shoulder on his other side. I know she’s thinking of Ellin. I hold back my own tears for Kora. Instead, I hum softly, the way I used to with Eland when he was worried, or upset, or had a bad dream. After a while, Derain slumps between Amarina and me, asleep.
A few minutes later, I succumb myself, my head pillowed on his hard shoulder.
I dream of Aloe and Eland. Nothing disturbing or sad. Just a humdrum little dream—the three of us sharing a meal in our shelter back home, talking about our day, teasing and laughing—but one that provides a brighter glow and more comfort than a fire in a dark cave ever could. I have my family back, if only for a little while.
Until, sometime later, shouts and hard footfalls echo through the cave. I ease my numb arm out from behind Derain and wobble to my feet. Then I hear it: the keening cries of the sick ones.
From the faint sounds of their shrieks and moans, they’re outside the cave.
And so are Peree, Bear, and Kai.
Chapter Eleven
Moray and Conda are near the entrance to the cave, yelling at Cuda. Their brother sounds like he’s outside, screaming and shouting. I stumble that way. Night has crept through the forest since I fell asleep, dragging its black cloak over the sky.
I rub my face. “What’s going on?”
“Cuda’s out there, bashing the fleshies’ heads in.” Conda sounds disgusted.
“What?”
“They popped up out of nowhere a few minutes ago. We came over here to block the entrance and be sure they weren’t coming in. Cuda got real quiet, then he grabbed a torch and ran out in the rain. The torch went out, so he’s hitting ‘em with the log.”
I feel around the rough rock to find the entrance, stooping as I move forward through it. Rain begins to pelt me.
“What’s the big deal, little Fenn?” Moray yells. “Let my brother have his fun.”
I don't bother to stop. If Moray doesn’t understand what the problem with that is by now, it won’t help to explain. I leave the cave, hands outstretched in the darkness, calling for Cuda.
“Stay away from me! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you,” he yells.
His voice is close—is he talking to me? I lower my hands and step back a few paces. A moment later, something rushes audibly past my head, ending with a wet, splintering sound like a melon slamming to the ground. The sick ones howl with rage, or maybe sorrow. None speak. My mouth dries up, and my heart sticks in my throat.
“Stop, Cuda! They aren’t attacking you. They’re people, and you’re killing them.”
He makes a strangled noise as the sick ones wail all around us. Why don’t they run away from him? Why don’t they save themselves?
“Watch out!”
Bear comes out of nowhere and yanks me back—just in time. Cuda’s log flies so close to my head, I feel the rushing air, and rain flings into my face. I’m relieved not to be alone out here, but why isn’t Bear affected?
“Get away from me!” Cuda screams. “They’re going to kill us, don’t you see?”
He’s not having fun. He’s delusional.
“Cuda! Come back, brother!” Conda yells from the cave. He sounds scared for his double. Amarina and Derain call to Cuda, too.
“Damn it, you idiot, get in here!” Moray yells. At least he finally seems to appreciate the situation.
Holding my hands out toward Cuda, I say, “Drop the log and come inside. Please. They won’t hurt you. We won’t hurt you.”
“Fenn, I don’t think he can hear you. He’s not all there,” Bear yells over the pelting rain. “We should go in.”
I hear another terrible blow.
“Cuda, please,” I say. “Your brothers are worried; they want you to come inside with them.” I’m saying anything I can think of to keep him from swinging that log again, to keep him in contact with reality for a little longer.
He howls. It’s not a scream or a shriek; it’s a cry that wells from some deep pit of terror inside him. I know that place well. Is it too late? Is he becoming a sick one?
I’m not even sure what that means anymore. I only know that in this moment it’s difficult to remember the things that the anuna told me about the poisoned water and how it’s all in our heads. Right now, the cries of the sick ones batter my certainty; the reek of putrefaction weakens my confidence. I feel in my bones what all Groundlings and Lofties know to be true: the Scourge are killers. Their icy hands will be on my arms next, their teeth tearing into my flesh.
Fight it, Fennel. I can almost hear Peree’s encouraging voice from the trees as I used to.
I pry Bear’s hands off my shoulders and force one foot in front of the other, a shaking hand thrust out toward Cuda. He whimpers and whines like an injured animal. The sick ones surround me, screaming and groaning. Fetid breath blows in my face; I fight the waves of nausea that rush through me.
“Come with me, Cuda.” My voice is surprisingly steady.
“My brothers… the fleshies will kill them."
“We’ll all be safe if you come with me now," I say.
“Come on, Cuda,” Bear says from next to me. “Listen to Fennel. Come inside.”
Nothing happens for a long moment. Have we lost him?
Cuda’s heavy, trembling hand falls in mine. Bear grips my elbow, and we lead him back to the cave.
“Let’s get you warmed up, brother,” Conda says. Cuda’s hand disappears from mine.
Bear squeezes my arm as if to say good job, and lets go. I move over to the fire, hunched and dripping. Someone, Amarina maybe, wraps a mostly dry blanket over my shoulders.
“Where are Peree and Kai?” Bear asks.
“I… was going… to ask you the same thing." My teeth are clacking.
“They aren’t back yet?”
Dread fills me. “No… why? What happened?”
“We got separated by the sick ones. I was feeling okay, so I kind
of charged through them. Maybe—maybe they stopped to climb a tree? That would be a Lofty’s first thought, right? See the Scourge, climb a tree.”
I can tell from his light tone that he’s trying to keep me from worrying. I clutch the blanket around me and move back toward it, listening hard. All I hear are the cries of the sick ones. A fresh round of shivers takes my body. Are Peree or Kai starting to see them as the Scourge again, like Cuda? He’s gibbering and crying over by the fire now.
“That was stupid, sweetheart, running out there like that after my brother,” Moray says from behind me. “Brave, but stupid. He could’ve killed you. It was only a few fleshies after all.”
I turn on him. “How many times do I have to tell you? They aren’t fleshies. The sick ones are people.”
I stiffen as he rests a gentle hand on my shoulder.
“Not anymore,” he says.
Pent-up air rushes out of my chest. Is he right? Are they not? I don’t know anymore.
I sink down by the entrance and cross my legs, tucking my feet under me to try to warm them. Warming up beside the fire would be smarter, but I’m too anxious about Peree, and I want to be sure the sick ones stay out. All we need is for one of them to wander in and get Cuda going again. Get me going again.
Now that we’re inside and safe, being afraid of them—ill people, as I keep telling everyone—feels shameful. But the sick ones seem as much a danger as they ever were, because we’re as vulnerable to the poison as we ever were. They haven’t changed, because our tainted environment hasn’t. My head falls in my hands. Bear sits down next to me, his particular scent of soil, salt, and sap mingling in the damp.
“I’m so confused,” I say. “I thought knowing the truth about the poisoned water might protect us from the delusions when we had to drink it again, but now I’m not so sure.”
He doesn’t say anything at first. When he does, his words are hesitant. “It’s getting easier. Seeing them as sick people, instead of monsters.” He pauses. “I noticed it when we saw them that first night we left Koolkuna. I wasn’t as scared and confused, but I chalked it up to the pure water. Only, we’ve been drinking from the Restless for a few days now, and I still wasn’t that bad tonight. It’s like, little by little, I’m trusting that they won’t tear me up or turn me. Every time I’m around them, I can stay a little longer without panicking. I feel dizzy and kinda sick now, but it’s better than it used to be.”
“That’s good news, Bear,” I say. “But if you’re getting better, then why is Cuda getting worse?”
“Because he’s stupid.”
I elbow him. “I wonder if it has to do with how open you are to believing the sick ones are poisoned people, not monsters. Trusting, like you said. Moray and his brothers have never seemed to believe it, but you’re at least trying. Could that counteract the poison a little?”
Maybe we have to be really open to believing the sick ones are safe. Open to a new way of thinking. Open to change. And as I found when I returned home from Koolkuna to tell my people the truth about the Scourge, not many are. I still struggle with it.
“Maybe, but my guess is that eventually nothing will help if we keep drinking the bad water out here. We need to get back to Koolkuna soon.”
Cuda groans from back by the fire as if he agrees.
The rain pounds harder outside the cave mouth. Moths flutter through my stomach, leaving powdery traces of worry wherever they touch. Is Peree safe? And Kai, a little voice chides me.
“Peree will be okay,” Bear says.
“How did you—?”
“It’s not too hard to tell when you’re thinking about him.”
Not that again. Back home, every other minute someone told me they knew things because of the look on my, or someone else’s, face. But I try to believe him. Peree will be fine. He’ll be here soon.
I push my sopping hair back. “How are you doing with everything, Bear? We haven’t talked much lately.”
He doesn’t answer for a minute. “What part of everything? The everything of settling in Koolkuna, the everything of the Sisters taking the children, or the everything of you and Peree?”
I tense. I wasn’t expecting him to talk about that, at least not with me.
“Okay.” I take a deep breath. Might as well get the hard part out of the way first. “Peree and me to start.”
“Better. It, you know—” He clears his throat. “Hurt… for a while. But it’s better. Still, if you have a forgetting potion or powder or something from Nerang, I’ll give it a try.”
I reach for my old friend’s hand, feeling the ridges and rough patches on his palm and fingers as they close around my own. I might know the terrain of Bear’s hands even better than Peree’s. He has his own scars, inside and out.
“I’m so sorry.”
He leans into me. “I know. Couldn’t be helped, I guess.”
We’re both silent for a while, listening to the rain and the sick ones.
“Did any girls in Koolkuna catch your eye?” I ask.
“Yeah, a few.” He pauses. “And there’s always Kai.”
I snort. “Did Cuda hit you in the head? There’s something loose in there.”
“She’s interesting. Kind of mysterious. Brooding. It’s attractive.”
“Brooding? It’s called surly. Sullen.”
“She’s unattached, anyway. I’ll start with that.”
I lay my head on his shoulder. The sick ones howl mournfully outside. “Just wait, Bear. There’ll be a line of great girls fighting over you when we get back.”
“Yeah, sure.”
I start to say, I promise. But I’m sick of promising things I can’t deliver.
I promised Aloe I’d be back from searching for the Hidden Waters after three days. It took weeks. I promised Eland he’d have a huge home in the trees in Koolkuna, complete with a pet tiger, although I knew I wouldn’t be able to deliver on that. Eland never even left home. The cesspool of despair that puddles around my feet every time I think about my family begins to trickle in.
I swallow hard. “What about the other everythings?”
“Koolkuna is great. Even better than I thought it would be. Until…”
“The Sisters," I say. “We can’t afford to be stuck here for long. I don’t know what we’ll do if they make it back to the Cloister with the children.”
“You’ll have to move in. Become one of 'em. I could see you wearing the white paint and those little feathers and learning to throw a spear like that. You’d be fierce.”
I laugh.
“At least we’re getting to see the world outside of Koolkuna,” he says. “Well, some of us are, anyway.”
I smack at him. Joking about my Sightlessness is an old and time-honored tradition between Calli, Bear, and me. I rub my chest right over the spot that always seems to ache when I think of my other best friend.
“I was hoping we’d run across some other survivors,” he says. “Not a couple of run-down shelters and a pile of old bones.”
“Do you think there are survivors besides the anuna, the Sisters, and us?” And the sick ones.
“Probably. It’s a big world out there, bigger than I even dreamed. The Restless is pretty amazing. And the forest is changing; the mix of trees and the terrain is different. Where does the Restless go? What else could be out there? I want to see more.” His leg twitches against mine, like he can’t wait to jump up and go explore, rain and sick ones and all.
“Not me. I want to get the children and deliver us all back to Koolkuna. Then maybe I can think about what’s next.” I press a swollen spot on my shin, courtesy of an angry stump, and lower my voice. “Besides, I’m pretty sure the forest here has a secret plot to kill me.”
Bear touches a group of itchy scratches on my arm. “The bushes are in on it.”
I reach down to a welt around one of my ankles. “And the vines.”
He nudges my shoulder. “Yeah, you’re done for.”
“I know. Some star in the sky I a
m.”
He chuckles and nudges my shoulder with his own. “You are different, you know? Since you started collecting the water.”
I tilt my head. Do I want to hear this? A lot of things are different, both good and bad.
“Being with you used to be like… sitting by a small, warm fire. All sweetness and light. That’s why I hung around you and Calli after my parents died. You two were the only things that kept the darkness away.”
I smile, remembering. We were a trio, a team. We did everything together.
He pauses, selecting his words. “You always did what you were told. Did your duty. You didn’t really stand up for yourself. Remember when the Three sent you outside to spend the night with the Scourge as punishment? You didn’t say a word. Bet you wouldn’t do that now.”
I flush at the reminder. Being publicly humiliated by the Three was awful. He’s right—if that happened now, I would fight it.
“But then you found the Hidden Waters,” he goes on. “You convinced a lot of Groundlings to go to Koolkuna with a bunch of Lofties. You kept us from killing each other along the way. Now you’re like… an unlit torch. The promise of sweetness and light is still there, but there’s also more potential. People respect you. Groundlings and Lofties. The anuna. Even Moray.” He must see the look of confusion on my face. “He called you brave. Moray doesn’t sling compliments around often.”
“He also called me stupid.”
“It’s Moray we’re talking about. He can’t give without taking away.”
“What about Kai? She clearly thinks I’m an idiot.”
“Nah. If she did, she’d be nicer to you.”
I laugh. “What?”
“People are always nicer to the people they think are idiots. It’s the only way they can hide the way they really feel. Kai might hate you because you got to Peree before she could, but she doesn’t think you’re an idiot. You can see it when she looks at you: the envy and the admiration.”